Mike

My dad is going to skin my ass and hang it up in his office along with the rest of his animal heads and hunting trophies. 

He has a lot of rules and contracts for me to follow, but the number one thing that he does not want happening in this house is for me to bring a girl over. I don't know why that is, but I know all Hell will break loose if I break the rule with him around.

And today is the day.

I swear my hands shook as I saw the nerves pop out of his forehead and temples.

It may sound like I'm exaggerating, but if you take a closer look at him you could see the dark circles of skin sink into his eye sockets and the rest of what was left fold tightly onto his face- perfectly outlining his skull.

He looked like a skeleton soul eater that was going to devour my soul. Who knows, he could be one. I couldn't bat that ridiculous theory out of the ball park just yet.

What else explains his lack of humanity and tendencies to be the perfect human form of darkness and evil by sucking up the whole business market and swiping everything away to put his name on top?

"Mike," My father began to growl slowly. "Who the hell is this?"

Fuck. Do I answer? Do I not? Maybe I should start off with an apology.

Tightening my jaw so I wouldn't let it droop down and spill out a lot of nonessential crap, I instantly let go of Ashlyn's hand and stepped away from her and onto a ceramic shard from my mother's favorite flower vase.

It was like someone drove a nail up through my heel and hammered it in.

Damn it, I was wearing converse and I could feel the shard poking it's way up through my foot. I could already imagine taking off my shoe and seeing a little white tip peep up from underneath the surface of my skin like a bone.

This could be my golden ticket out of trouble. My dad will currently take his attention off of me being in trouble and focus it on the foot, giving me enough time to run away and hide some where.

"Mike." He asked again, this time walking closer to me. "Do I have to ask again?"

Oh god, I'm going to die. Shouldn't he be more concerned about mom's broken vase or perhaps my impaled foot?

Looking over at Ashlyn, I could see that she was slowly backing up behind me and doing her best to hide herself off. She would be stupid to think that she could get away from my dad because if he needed to he would hire a team to hunt her down.

I got my act together and shrugged my shoulders, stretching my mouth out to a tight and closed frown. That's the closest I can get to innocent right now.

"Uhm, her?" I managed to ask after a while. "She's uhm."

I've been building up a tolerance to the nervous jitters so I could tell all the teachers that some 'emergency' came up that caused me to skip the whole entire class. I thought that that I had it down, but apparently I didn't.

This is like the third grade all over again when I stuttered so hard that I couldn't even say 'uhm'.

"Girlfriend!" I blurted out really loud- all the energy that I was trying to get out minutes ago finally coming out now.

His eyebrows knit closely together and  the scowl that covered his face transformed into a sudden look of interest. "Really? Well she must be something special since you brought her into the house and practically declared that she was your first girlfriend."

A flicker of amusement crossed Dane's face as he tucked his head into his elbow. "Yeah," he coughed "first girlfriend."

Of course my brother had to insert a snide discreet comment after I made a close call and saved my ass. Before I walked down the hall with our father, I handed my brother a dirty look which he nonchalantly replied with a smile.

Dane is my brother and I know him well. He's jealous because he never has game like I do. I'm not the better brother for no reason. All the model agencies flock over to my hands not his.

"We will do introductions later." my father said behind his back as we walked our way towards the living room "First things first. We are going to have to talk about that vase and this girl of yours after we have some dessert and a late birthday party."

There was no need for the man to still be celebrating his birthday. He is now fifty years old, so he should be tired of them already.

"Really?" I mused jarringly as I threw myself into a chair at the dining room table. "Why celebrate it now? It's only midnight. We have all day to do it."

My dad is like a five year old about his birthday this year, and I can only cross my fingers that he doesn't act like that over seas on his business trip when it is his birthday.

If he does, I'm glad that I'm not around to see it.

Once my father, brother, and I were seated I could hear my father deeply clear his throat a multiple of times to catch my attention. At first I chose to ignore it, but when he continued I tilted my head over to his direction and gave him a dead pan look.

"What?" I answered with a blasé tone.

This is the very reason why I hate people. Instead of constantly clearing their throats to secretly get someone's attention, why not call the person's name out and get it over with? Clearing your throat just makes it painstakingly obvious to everyone else that you have something to say and gets their attention instead of the person your calling.

"Mike," he said after a while, "aren't you forgetting something?"

At first I thought he had an itch on his neck since he kept moving his head to the left and rubbing it up against the sharp pressed collar of his navy blue shirt.

But after following the direction his head was pointing at, I found Ashlyn awkwardly standing by the entrance of the dining room. What was she doing there? It should be common sense to sit down when everyone else did.

There are at least ten more empty seats that she could choose from. What was I supposed to do, babysit her and tell her where to sit?

I looked back at my dad and shook my head. "And about it?"

Both my father and brother groaned, but Dane motioned her over to a chair next to him.

"Ashlyn, you could sit down next to me if you like." He flashed her a quick smile, which seemed to ease her down a bit and get her to shuffle over to her chair. 

Even when she did get to her chair, she bowed her head down and stared at the blue checkered table cloth, picking at it occasionally and fumbling her fingers around the edges. It was like she couldn't stop moving.

"So," I began as an attempt to break the silence. "why are we celebrating your birthday so early when we got all tomorrow?"

Focusing his hard steel grey eyes on me, he nodded his head and didn't let a single flicker of emotion cross his face. The only thing that I could see was disappointment, and it's the only face he uses around me.

He folded his hands and proudly looked over at Dane. "Your brother here came up with a good idea. Since his birthday is today and mine is in an hour, we can celebrate both of them at the same time at midnight."

Yes, my dad had to be so proud over Dane coming up with a stupid and ridiculous idea. I rather be sleeping early on a bed of nails than to hear him praise Dane one more time.

Besides, I would have came up with the same idea earlier if I wasn't so busy dragging Ashlyn into a room that she could hide in. 

Holy shit I skipped Dane's birthday. Maybe if I wake up delusional tomorrow morning and passed him a quick happy birthday greeting it would blow over him.

I watched the maids file in one by one to lay down the Black Forest German cake that sat on the delicate China my dad order from- ironically- China. For one birthday, I would love for us to have a cheap typical birthday cake.

But no. It must be authentic German cake or genuine New York cheesecake that was made in New York itself and shipped all the way out here to California. We couldn't have a normal cheap cake because it was too cheap.

We always had to have something luxurious and rich. To my father, it would be an insult to have anything normal or bland.

That dirt old money bag. I'm never going to turn into him.

I leaned back into my chair and slowly picked apart my cake with my fork. "Genuine Black Forest Cake in place of a birthday cake. Typical." I grumbled.

My father, immediately jumping on to my attitude, narrowed his eyes on me. "And what are you implying by that?"

If he was trying to scold me or start a fight, let the old man bring it. 

From the corner of my eyes, I could see Dane nervously glance back and forth between us like it was some weird tennis match. Every time me and my father had a quarrel, he would freak out and try to calm us down- only to make things worse.

I couldn't understand how he always has to hold himself as the peace maker between us. A fight is bound to happen no matter what. Let it happen.

Raising a wine glass filled with sparkling apple cider, Dane tapped it gently with a fork in the hopes of breaking my father and I's tense non-verbal stare down. Unfortunately it worked.

He cleared his throat. "Since this is the second time our father has come home for his birthday, I would like for all of us to say a few words. Dad, I know your not home that often but Mike and I know your working hard."

A man like him tends to over succeed in his business by failing his family. Dane knows it just as well as I do and needs to stop glorifying the man.

"Even though your far away, you show as an excellent role model for both Mike and I."

I would beg to differ.

"Mike and I would be lost with out your guidance."

Great. With the plethora of times that Dane has mentioned the phrase 'Mike and I', the I is starting to sound like Ike and make Dane's whole speech sound like a never ending 'Mike and Ike' commercial.

Maybe I should just take this fork, bang my forehead against it, and escape this debacle.

Dane clicked his glass against dad's and held the glass up, signifying the end to his speech. "And to all this, I wish you a happy birthday dad."

Grinning widely from one wrinkly cheek to the other, my father shook Dane's hand and patted him on the back. "Handsome, humble, talented, and educated. I couldn't have asked for a better son."

Ouch. He might as well press a heating iron against my chest and burn my heart out. I know what the sly sneaky bastard did though. He was indirectly applying that comment to me because I was always disobeying him and not being a good son like Dane.

Screw being a robotic perfect son like Dane. I want to party and live. 

There was a long empty moment of silence, and once Ashlyn got the cue to say a few short words her head popped up and she couldn't have looked more clueless. Her eyes were glued open like she got caught red handed for committing a crime and a thick layer of chocolate was masked over her mouth.

It was like she ate the whole entire cake with her hands. 

She had to be kidding me. While everyone has only been able to take a small sliver of the cake, she managed to devour it all up and lick the plate so clean you could put in on a show case for new chinaware.

This is the very reason why you do not invite street rats to a party or even let them near the proximity of a rich house.

She was being so quiet I forgot all about her. 

Nervously wiping up her mouth, she swallowed the rest of her cake down and dropped the table napkin on her lap. "Happy birthday Mr. Nor. It was nice of you to offer this chocolate cake and it was also a pleasure meeting you."

My father chuckled and tilted his head for her. "Of course, dear. It is my pleasure."

God, that was close. If my father saw her barbarism for what it really was instead of an innocent act he would knew I was lying all along and killed me. We don't talk much, but he knows I don't go after poor girls.

A rich girl with common class would know not to cover her mouth with chocolate and call Black Forest cake, chocolate cake.

"Are you going to say anything Mike?" Dane asked from across the table.

Groaning and rolling my eyes, I swirled the tip of the fork on the table and looked up at Dane. "Do I have to?"

Dane sighed and shook his head. "Seriously, Mike?"

I dropped the fork and held my hands up in surrender. "Alright. Alright. Fine!"

As obnoxiously as I could, I scooted the chair back with a loud noisy screech and snobbishly got up from my chair. They shouldn't be mad at me for I warned and gave them the option for me to speak. 

"Congratulations, on being half a century old! You must feel ancient by now. How are those joints feeling? You know they got to be working cause your only fifty percent of the way through with digging your grave! Hold up. The average American at least lives till seventy so you only got twenty years left!"

All the jaws at the table fell off, but the most rewarding reaction was my father's. His eyes were hollow and empty it seemed that the Grim Reaper did his good deed early and sucked up his soul.

Dane was the quickest to wake up from my blow, and he did everything he could to keep himself in his chair. "Mike, what is going on?"

I shrugged my shoulders to reply Dane's comment, and looked back at my father. "Happy birthday. And did I forget to mention that your half a century old? That's all I have to say. I'm going to my room now."

It took a while for our dad to shake it off, but once he did he acted as if nothing ever happened and stood up from the table and dusted himself off. "I believe we should call this a night. Dane, take Ashlyn to the guest room, since she is over so late she can stay the night and Mike come to my office."

Finally, I could face him off without Dane interfering.

I let my father walk up a little ways in front of me and eventually followed him up the stairs to his office ten exact minutes later. 

The number one rule to winning a fight is you never show up at the appointed time.

You always come over late and make it appear that you don't really care about it by making an apathetic entrance. This move always gives you the upper hand.

Walking in through the door with my hands in my pockets, I walked in and slumped against the vintage cherry oak leather seat and threw my feet on top of his desk. "So, what going on?"

His eyebrows popped up to his forehead and he folded his arms across his chest not saying a word.

"Look at that," I continued as I leaned foreword and snatched the magazine that was in the picture frame on his desk, "we look like a happy family but we know it's not like that in real life." I looked up at him, smirked, and imitated what he said that night, flipping the picture over to face him. "It doesn't matter as long as it brings good press, right?"

I sighed and looked at the picture again. It was the People magazine, and my father and I were in the center wearing the same matching suit and tie while shaking hands with big fake smiles. 

The subtitles read, 'Son like father, father like son. Meet the most successful family in the world, the Nors of Norology'. Sadly, I still remember this even though it was a year ago.

The article was on page seven and my father and I went to an interview and filled it with lies. 

"Take your feet off my desk." My father snapped "And put the picture frame back."

Why would he want this flimsy piece of junk? It was a whole big fat lie.

"This piece of junk?" I derided as I tossed the picture frame up in the air and caught it before it hit the floor. "If you insist." Then sweeping my feet off his desk, I folded my hands on my knee and prepared myself for the long monologue.

Before he spoke, he quickly adjusted the picture frame, took a moment to cover his face with his hands, and rubbed his eyes and temples. I guess being fifty was taking a huge toll on him already.

"Mike, for the record I am forty-six. And to put things out on the table, I know you hate me." He started, taking down his hands and looking me in the eyes, "And you have a lot of reasons to. I'm not home that often, and I haven't necessarily been the best father out there. We never talk, and when we do I am scolding you for the little things."

Whoa, what is going on here?

I thought he pulled me into his office so he could give me a lesson about my inadmissible birthday toast, but the look in his grey steel eyes that were once sharp and cut throat were empty and filled regret.

Something must have happened over seas because this is not him. 

Leaning a little forward in my chair, I tilted my head but refused to let any emotion get to me. "What's going on here?"

I still hate the man, and my feelings haven't changed but this is terribly depressing to see him like this. It's like the ice cold business man that pummels and lashes his way to the top in the business world hopped out the window and left a sack of dead skin behind.

My father sighed and put his head down like he couldn't even pull himself together to look at me. "I'm not a good father, and I'm sorry." He lightly banged his hand on his desk out of frustration and looked back up at me.

Holy crap. I had to be dreaming or something.

At that moment, I wished that I could say something back.

I felt compelled to say a few words, but I couldn't. They wouldn't come out because they were repressed into the back of my mind from all the times I kept things to myself.

When I was a kid, I had always wished that my dad would come over and have this talk with me, so I can get everything off my chest and say how much I hated him and why he didn't try to care. Now when I'm fifteen- almost sixteen- with a built wall between us, he tries to fix things up.

He's always too late.

"I want to make things right with you before it's too late." His voice maintained it's confident edge, but I could hear a suppressed waver when he rushed out his regrets. "I'm sorry that I wasn't by your side when you needed me the most. You were just a little kid back then and I left you by yourself. You were so young going through things a little kid shouldn't have been going through. Your mother-"

My hands started to shake, and I did my best to not tear down the wall between us. He couldn't change the past and he was too late.

What he did to my mother was unforgivable. For crying out loud, he didn't even cry at the good woman's funeral. He should have been the one that was killed, not my mother. She was a good woman that cared about the people that loved her back.

She wasn't the heartless bastard that my father was. His filthy mouth didn't have the right to bring her up.

Anger started to quickly succeed my pain, and I angrily threw my fists onto the armrest of my chair.

"You have no right to speak about her." I growled "After all you did to us, you think a simple apology would make me like you again? You had at least ten years to make it up to me, but you only decide to bring it up now."

My temper continued to flare and everything that I have decided to keep to myself flew out of my mouth in a wave of fury. I could feel my skin boil beneath my skin and every nerve in my body tingle at the thought of punching him.

I was able to put those violent thoughts aside, but I couldn't stop myself from rising from my seat.

"Where were you when I was in the hospital?" I yelled. "At home packing for a business trip!" I answered for him.

"What did you do during mom's funeral?" I asked again. "You only showed up for five minutes and left to take a business call! What kind of selfish bastard are you? No, I'm not forgiving you this easily. Dane might have, but I won't."

The man in front of me shook his head and cupped his hands around his face. "Mike," he pleaded "please let me explain."

I scoffed and bit my tongue, turning my head and shaking it to the side. He had nothing to explain about. He left us for his job and it was the only thing he cared about.

"Explain what?" I spat "Explain what made you so fucking heartless? What? Did your mommy not pay attention to you when you were younger so you felt compelled to do the same thing to me?"

He shook his head and threw his hands down on his desk to get my attention. "No! Mike, listen to me!" 

My father's calm composure was thrown out into the trash, and he raised his voice at the same level that I was yelling at him with. I would have yelled back at him, but I know it's serious when he looses his cool.

Sitting back down, I crossed my arms and waited for him to continue.

He held his hands out to the side, and exhaled while closing his eyes to pull himself together.

"Please try to understand that it is very hard for me to tell you all of this. I didn't know it was that bad when you were in the hospital. I thought you were suffering from trauma and that it would be temporary."

If it was temporary, I wouldn't be swallowing down a bucket load of pills a day, now would I?

"And once you got out, I thought you were fine. Honest to God Mike, I didn't know you were suffering that much. You hid it so well from me, I didn't know something was wrong with you until we had to send you to the hospital again. When I saw you lying on the floor like that-" 

My father stopped and banged his fists against his desk for the second time and bent over grumbling a few things to himself, but hauling himself back up again.

"I thanked God that I came home that day because it would have been too late and you would have been dead. I really wanted to be with you after that, but that was when I had to leave to my business trip to Switzerland."

Was this really what he thought? Did he- no. It's too late. He can't change anything. He could have told me all of this before, but he didn't. It's too late.

"And I didn't go out to take a business call on the day of your mother's funeral. I couldn't bare to stand in there any longer, and I had to be by myself for it. I couldn't have all those people there see me cry."

That was some lame ass excuse, but I guess it's better then taking my dad as some psychopath.

His eyes softened and his hard shell melted before me. "I do love you Mike. I know I'm gone so much, and I'm a sad excuse for a father. Hopefully, you understand me now."

This was all too much for me to take in now. After all these years of seeing my father as some heartless bastard, it's hard to believe him. 

But the regret that filled his eyes and how low he stooped to have me believe him, I'll take it into consideration.

Holding back any possible feelings, I leaned back into my chair and hardened my eyes on him to tell him that I wasn't going to forgive him that easily. "Your still going to have to prove it to me."

A smile inched up his face and relief seemed to bring out a whole new man in him. "I will."

Alright, this is getting really awkward now. I tried looked at everything in his office but him, but I found myself constantly glancing over at his face to see how relieved he was.

This is the first time I've seen him like this around me. Usually he would have a look of distaste pasted onto his lips whenever I walked into the room, but now the old father that I have known was gone.

I still can't help but wonder to myself if there was anything that happened overseas to have him drastically change like this.

"So uh," I stated as I awkwardly fidgeted around in my seat "can I go?"

My father cleared his throat and immediately rebuilt his business man in a tight pin striped suit poise. "Before you leave, I have one more thing to say."

Please let this not be about Ashlyn. I'll send her home and pretend that this never has existed. 

Even though things between my dad and I have not entirely been fixed, I didn't want to loose what we have managed to salvage.

"About this girlfriend of yours, Ashlyn, does she mean a lot to you?"

Should I come out clean or lie about it all? Ironically being a liar because it's required in his business, he respects honesty. But I'm taking a huge leap here. This could possible screw everything I built with my dad a few minutes ago and eliminating the chances of this happening ever again.

I shouldn't take any chances. I had to lie.

"A lot." I grinned, doing the best I could to look in love. "I have been dating her for two years now. She means a lot to me. I swear, this is the first time I brought her to the house. You just came at the wrong time. I was about to drop her off, actually."

My dad smiled back. "Don't worry, I believe you son. It's good to see that you are over Melody. But how much do you care for this girl? Do you think this relationship will last a long time?"

The moment he mentioned Melody, I could feel my heart sting like an open wound that has been doused with cleaning alcohol. I almost felt queasy and sick just thinking about her. 

I missed her so much, but there wasn't anything that I could do about it because I already did everything possible to get her back. She was the first girl that I ever fell in love with. Sure, I was young back then, but I knew it was real. 

After she left, I never was the same again.

Drawing my attention back to my dad, who was eagerly waiting for my response, I nodded.

"Yeah." I smiled- this time being a little more forced. I had to find some way to sell this thing. But this was the crazy kooky girl that keeps beating people up and crashing their cars. How the hell was I supposed to make it believable that I loved her?

Maybe I could pretend for just a second that Ashlyn was Melody. I closed my eyes and opened them again, feeling the energy and words to sell this thing.

"Both of us are crazy over one another and she was there for me when Melody left. Around her, I never have felt more alive. She's my other half. I'm sure of it. I'll do anything I can to carry our relationship past high school. I need her to breath."

Thank god I got this out. If I had to say it again and picture Ashlyn's face instead of Melody's I would have thrown up.

My father leaned back into his chair with his eyebrows raised- looking clearly impressed. "Wow. She sounds like she's the real deal."

I laughed. "She sure is. She changed me in a lot of ways."

Ashlyn changed me in a lot of negative ways, I wasn't lying about that.

Nodding his head, my father folded his hands and rested them on his desk. "That's good. Now Mike, I know you aren't ready for this yet, but I want us to be thinking about the future here. One day I will pass on and this business will be yours."

I widened my eyes and swallowed hard just thinking about it. For some reason, my father refuses to pass down the business to Dane and is persistent that the burden hops onto my lap.

My father can deny it as much as he wants, but the one thing that I can admit is that I will never be ready to handle that amount of responsibility. I can't quit my acting career to take on a duty that I don't even want.

I'm an actor, and I am meant to be crazy, wild, and free. He can't tie me down like that.

"You will also, in the future, have a family to take care of while handling our business. It's important to succeed in the business, but it is more important to be the good father that I was never able to be."

Wherever my father was going with this, I did not like it. My goal is to be a bachelor as long as possible and not get into that whole 'family' business.

"I know this is not a very comfortable subject for you, since you are still very young, but I want you to be thinking about this so you can be prepared for it in the future. Unlike other people, I think it would benefit you to get married early. Most likely right after high school."

What the hell? This is ridiculous. Fathers are supposed to encourage their children to marry after college and discourage their children from marrying  some one after high school.

"I understand," my father continued "that it's unfair to make such a quick decision. The marriages in Nor family is known to be very confined and barred. Since we are of such high status, we must marry according to our parent's will and unfortunately I can't change a thing and must have a say in your marriage matters. The person you marry will heavily affect the business."

Arranged marriages, a pit of hell and misery. You're stuck with a stranger for life that you don't even know and is required to love them.

One word. Suicide.That's the only way to escape it.

I needed to stop the old man before he boarded the crazy train. "Hey- uhm." I dreaded the day he would talk about this, but here it is sticking it's ugly tongue in my face.

This whole marriage conversation was so fucking awkward. I'm only sixteen. I'm too young to talk about this kind of crap.

My dad resumed his monologue, "Unlike my father and the fathers before them, I have a different plan for you. Instead of marrying you to a woman that would make the business prosper, I want you to marry early with the person you love so you can be a good father that I have never been able to be and a successful business man."

"Hold up." I started, pushing my hands out in front of me and giving him a weird look, "How does marrying early help me be a good father? I don't really understand what your getting at here."

This whole thing was absurd and ridiculous. I thought this was the twentieth century, but I guess in this house it's the eighteen hundreds where arranged marriages still flourished.

He sighed. "It helps because you will be able to know how to handle a family before you get sucked into the business world. I don't want you to turn into me, Mike. And I'm giving you something that I never had, the chance to marry some one you love."

I knew about the tradition of arranged marriages in the Nor family, but for some reason the thought never really occurred to me that my mother and father were arranged to get married.

Could it possibly be- no. They loved each other in the end. They had to. They were my parents and they seemed so happy together.

My father clearly screwed up and failed to realize what just came out of his mouth, but I think it's best if I didn't say anything.

It must have been the sudden and shocked look of my face because my father stopped and furrowed his eyebrows together in concern.

"You do love her, don't you Mike?" He asked, doubts starting to settle in and threaten to shatter his 'beneficial' plan.

I snapped out of my daze, and looked back up at him. "Huh?"

"Do you love Ashlyn?" He asked again, this time being more patient and sedate.

My heart started to pound against my chest and every answer that I could have possibly answered seemed to end in a terrible way. There seemed to be no way out.

"I do. Without a doubt." I replied unfazed, still doubting in my head if I should tell the truth or play along and find some other time to solve this.

"Good." He replied. "Before you leave, I want you to think about this seriously and keep this in mind. There is no right time to fall in love, and once your in it take a leap. There is no right time to get married either, so don't be afraid to propose to her because of your age."

My father smirked. "You can also look at it as good press. That's it. You are dismissed."

Without a word, I left my father's office and rubbed my temples as I hustled down the stairs and towards my room. 

This was all the Nor family will ever result to, big fat liars. My dad lied to me about his marriage coming from true love, and I lied to him about how deeply in love I was with an insane lunatic.

I guess it's true what they say. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

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A/N: Holy crap that was a lot of words 0.0

I'll keep this short. Remember to vote if you liked it and comment to tell me your thoughts!

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This chapter was long, but it hopefully gave you the background information to Mike. 

Thanks for reading <3 Love you all! FLAME ON!