I was about to retort with something nasty, but Brett called me from the stage.
“Ey, Ken! We’re up!”
I turned back to Nicholas and gave him a scowl. “We are not yet through!” I said in the gravest tone I could manage.
Instead of being offended, threatened, or intimidated, Nicholas gave me a contended smile. In a voice barely hiding his amusement, he said, “Oh, I’m actually counting on that!”
I was scowling as I took my seat in front of the drums.
“Bad mood, eh? Don’t let him get through to you. Don’t let him linger in your thoughts too much,” Brett said.
I raised a brow. “What do you mean?”
“That is Nick Atkins. Every guy in this town wanted to be him. Every girl wanted to date him,” he replied before going backstage.
I glanced over at their table again. Jen had returned to her seat and was giggling at something that Nicholas said.
As I twirled the sticks around my fingers and hit the snare, I thought, No. Not every girl in this town would want to date you. I promise you that!
***
“Speed is the essence of war.” – Sun Tzu, The Art of War.
I dressed up early for the gig the next day. I thought about it the whole day. In all my years knowing Jen, this was the first time I met a challenging male. An alpha male, much to my disappointment! Not only did he have a strong build and doubtless a six-pack underneath his shirt, but he also had an attractive face—the kind that makes girls starstruck and tongue-tied.
In a fairy tale, where Jen was the beautiful princess, Nicholas Atkins could just be the Prince Charming, who would kiss her sleeping heart awake from its deep slumber.
Very well then, in their fairy tale, I would be the damned Rumpelstiltskin!
I wore a pair of black pants, a dark yellow shirt, black leather boots, and a dark brown leather jacket. I made sure every strand of my hair was in place before I put on my black fingerless leather gloves.
I wanted to pick up Jen earlier than our agreed time. I wanted to make sure that I got to Jen’s before Nicholas could. Whatever he was doing, I would always make sure that I was one step ahead of him.
On my way out, I was unfortunate enough to see my father drinking wine with his friends. They stopped talking when I reached the bottom of the stairs and stared at me from head to toe, scrutinizing my outfit, my hair, and my boots. Then they turned away, dismissing me.
Oh! What I wouldn’t do just to hear the interesting thoughts in their heads right now!
I have an idea. I wanted to know if my thoughts were right.
“Well, gents, look who we have here,” my father said. “The devil’s spawn.”
I smiled acidly at him. The retort came to my tongue effortlessly. “Exactly. Your spawn.”
My father growled. “What do you call a woman who left her husband, unaware that she was pregnant, and let her lesbian lover raise her child? And when she died, she made sure that I would take care of the piece of shit she left behind.”
“That’s all I am to you? A piece of shit?”
He gave me a cold stare. Then he said, with narrowed eyes, “You come here, embarrass me, suck out my resources like a piece of parasite! I put a roof over your head, I feed you, and I even pay for your car! And what do you give me in return? Shame!”
My blood started boiling, and I felt the heat at the back of my eyes. I balled my hands and bit my lips in an attempt to control myself.
Nobody gets to me as fast as my father does.
“Fine!” I said coolly. “I don’t need your money, you know that. I don’t even need that car you gave me. I know you only gave me that to impress your friends, to keep your spotless reputation.”
He looked at me in surprise.
Yes, Dad, I am your kid. I catch on easily.
Addressing his friends, I said, “Have a nice evening, gentlemen.” Then I strode off toward the front door.
Apparently, my father was not done with me. He followed me to the gate, all the while cursing at me. I couldn’t care less because all I heard from his mouth was blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.
“Give me your fucking keys, you goddamn clit licker!” he shouted when he realized he was not getting through to me. I had tuned him out five minutes ago.
I turned around to face him, unable to react to what he said. I forgot that my car keys were in my hand. I stood there frozen, staring at him with a bewildered expression on my face.
When he saw that I was not moving, he snatched the keys from my hand and gave me a push. I nearly fell on the pavement if something had not caught me. My father gave me one last disgusted look, and then he stormed inside the house.
I felt numb. I knew he was drunk, but I didn’t know he was drunk enough to treat me that way, to say the things that he said. I didn’t even know his slang dictionary was so broad.
I felt myself being pulled up to my feet. It was then that I realized I was not alone and that I was not the only one who witnessed my father’s unforgivable behavior.
I looked up and found Nicholas Atkins staring at me.
My god! Of all people…
On his face, I saw all sorts of naked emotions, such as disbelief, anger, and pity, before he could pull himself together and pretend to look cool and nonchalant.
“You okay?” he asked.
I nodded. It was my turn to pretend to be cool. I kept my face as stoic as possible.
“Yeah, I’m cool,” I replied. “W-what are you doing here?”
“Didn’t we agree to fetch Jen together?”
Right! But I planned to leave very early just to beat him to it.
Well, thanks, ol’ man! Thanks a lot!
“That’s all right. I’m okay. You can go now,” I said.
He raised a brow at me. “And what are you going to do? Your father took your keys. Admit it, Ken Clarke. You need me now.” He looked at his watch and asked, “Does Jen mind waiting for a bit?”
I checked my watch and realized that we were already one minute late from picking Jen up. I almost forgot about her.
No, Jen did not have the patience to wait. Make her wait one minute, and she would freak out like a Bratinella.
I’ve never made her wait ever since I met her. And I regret doing so now. But I also could not miss this chance to get on Nicholas’ bad side.
To Nicholas, I said, “Yes. If you’re early, she feels pressured to finish dressing up or putting on makeup. She hates that. So we can take all the time we need.”
According to my best friend Sun Tzu, “All warfare is based on deception.”
In other words, offer unsolicited advice to your rival, the guy who covets my place on my best friend’s side. And make sure it was bad advice disguised with good intentions.
Nicholas and I were both quiet on the way to Jen. I was trying my best not to think about my father and how abusive he was becoming. I could move out of his house. I have money from Isabella and my mom. I didn’t need my father’s help to get me through life.
But money was not the reason I came to live with him, why I could stomach everything he was doing to me, and I never fought back. I never needed nor wanted his money. All my life, all I wanted was his acceptance and respect. I wanted him to accept me. And if it wasn’t too much to ask, I wanted him to love me. No matter how hard I might seem on the outside, inside, I’m just this little kid longing for a parent’s love.
Once again, I felt heat behind my eyes, but I tried to blink back the tears that threatened to blind me.
What the fuck.
I’m Ken Clarke. I do not cry!
And especially not in front of Nicholas fuckin’ Atkins!
Six months later, I graduated from the culinary school and became Austin’s sous-chef. I was getting excellent training from him, and the great thing about that was I didn’t feel like I was working at all. Every day was an adventure for me. Every moment was like play time. I was inventing my own fusions and Austin had considered including them in his official menu. Nick comes to New York at least three times a month. Whenever he had the chance to get away from work, he would come to me. And every time I spent with him was pure bliss, pure treasure. I have never been happier in my life. My happiness didn’t come without a price. I thought now that everything was going quite well in my life, I should let go of all the pain and anger I may still be harboring. There would no happiness without forgiveness, without healing. And to start with that, I forgave my father. The day after my graduation, I flew back to Salt Lake City to visit his grave. Nick went with me. I stared at the words on
I didn’t know how long I slept or how I got home. But when I opened my eyes, it was already morning. I realized I wasn’t lying down on the ground by the beach where I last remembered I was. Instead, a down feather duvet kept me warm as I lay comfortably on a firm mattress. The pillows, duvet, and bed covers were all white, matching the eggshell paint on the walls.At first, I thought I was in a hospital, but then I realized the bed I was in was far too comfortable and a lot wider than a hospital bed. Something about the room I was in was very familiar, as if I’ve been here plenty of times before.The next thing I realized was that I was completely naked under the sheets. I felt tired, as though I went through a rigid exercise regimen the night before. Apart from that, I was feeling a little sore there, too, in my most private part. Shit!Suddenly, I felt movement behind me. An arm draped over my waist and I felt warm kisses on my neck.I panicked!I was with a guy! I was naked! We ha
Ken“Ma’am, are you okay? Ma’am, can you hear me?”“Should we call the police?”I slowly opened my eyes and found the girl in Margaret’s diner and another guy looking at me with worried expressions on their faces. I looked around. I realized I was seated in the driver’s seat of my car, with the seat inclined. The girl was sitting on the passenger seat, holding up a small bottle of mint balm and the guy was kneeling by my car door.“What happened?” I asked, sitting up.“You fainted,” the guy said to me. “You’re lucky I was passing by when you dropped your phone and passed out. I caught you before you could hit your head. I called for help. Are you okay?”I nodded. “Th—thanks.”“Do you want to go to the hospital?” the girl asked.I shook my head. “I’ll be… I’ll be okay.”“Well, I found these on the ground,” the guy said. He handed me the pieces of my phone. “I think you’re gonna need to buy a new one.”He was right. The phone was broken that I doubt any service center could still put it
Nick.I wasn’t able to react immediately. I took a couple of hits before I came to my senses and docked and thwarted all her assaults. It took a while to convince her that maybe she was just late. I offered to get her a pregnancy kit just so she could be sure.I waited days for her to tell me that the tests came back negative, as I was sure they would be. I was positive I never touched her. How could I? I spent most of the night staring at her, watching her sleep. I was in love with her. When I do make love to her, I want her to want it, too. I wanted her to remember me. I wanted to be different from the others she had been with.I called her several times, but she was completely ignoring me. I was beginning to get worried. I realized, too, that since I backed out on my deal with her father, he would no doubt employ somebody else to charm her, woo her. Try to succeed where I failed. Well, I haven’t failed yet. In fact, I was only just starting. There were some things that I wanted to
Nick.I went inside the Rhythemes. This was new. The last time I was in town, this joint wasn’t here, not that it would make much of a difference to me anyway. I was not the type to frequent bars or go to one out of boredom. I didn’t fancy sitting at the bar, watching sex-hungry predators pick up their latest clueless prey.I would rather go to a card house. At least there, I could exercise my brains and make money out of it. No, I’m not a gambling addict. I just happened to be gifted at it. Am I counting cards? Well, where was the fun if you use mathematical equations and probabilities? But desperate times call for desperate measures.When I came back to the States, I had no family left to go to. My father was gone, leaving me with the only property he could afford. The house he left behind was too shabby and major repairs had to be done. I didn’t have enough money to build my dream house. But I couldn’t leave my father’s legacy looking like a shithole. I did what I had to do. In a y
“So, how are you doing?” I asked Brett when he visited me in New York. We were up having beer on the rooftop.“I’m fine,” he said, but his tone was not so convincing. I raised a brow at him. “By that, I mean I’m surviving information overload, trial by fire, meeting up with more people in a month than I ever did in my entire life, and trying to become the great Robert Clarke in approximately two hundred and fifty-five days. I’m losing my bachelor years too fast, but yeah, I’m all right.”I reached out and squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry. It could have been me, you know.”He nodded. “Yeah. You could have been in my shoes. But the thing is, I never dreamed of becoming a chef. I’ve always wanted to be a businessman. I can’t force this fate on you, too. It’s just things are happening too fast, too soon.”“Don’t worry, Brett. You’ll do great. Soon, you’ll be in Forbes magazine as one of the youngest, most successful CEOs in the country. It’s written in your stars. You were brilliant in schoo