The Art of Emptiness

~Williams~

The city hadn’t changed a bit. Still the same thing that happens every day. One can say it’s a boring life to live. Which they aren’t lying about.

Williams stood on the private balcony of his penthouse suite, one hand curled loosely around the edge of the steel rail. From this height, everything below looked manageable. Predictable. Small. But he knew better.

He believed life was about control. He didn’t care for the chaotic optimism people dressed up as ambition. He didn’t trust the fragile highs of love, fame, or beauty, none of it lasted. What did last, however, was power. The kind no one sees until it’s already shaped their life. He hadn’t always thought this way. But that was before. His father was always talking about how to lead and be on your own, trusting nobody but learning to work with anybody. His father was two-faced, one for cameras and the other for anyone he’s dealing with. Sometimes he wonders how his mum fell for his dad and why she stood by him. If it was him, he would never fall for a man like that.

But look at him, he walks in his father’s shadows and lets him control him. “Williams, you have to act this way for the public,” “Williams people who doesn’t have money don’t deserve to live a life” “don’t give a fuck about who you are not benefiting from” and so many other things that’s like a warning anytime he thinks to mess up.

After he lost his childhood best friend, he always felt alone. He still remembers those moments when they would spend a night together either at his place or at Kelly’s.. that was the name he always called him even to the point of not remembering his real name but his last name.. he cracks his brain a bit. Yeah, that’s it. Lutherford. He breaks into a soft smile. They would sneak out to the kitchen, drinking milk and yoghurts and they would clean up quietly before anyone notices, before getting back to bed. He was older than him but they were the only boys back then in their close family, and they were home-schooled together, so they became best of friends. Those moments were never forgotten by him because those were the years he felt genuinely happy and.. maybe the time he welcomed his little sister, Paula to the world. His mother’s best friend and princess; they moved everywhere together, till she turned 19 and his dad had to send her off to marry “someone that would keep the income flowing” his father said. He moves to a table nearby, taking a bottle of wine.

He thinks about that valet. The one who looked at him like he was a challenge. There’s just something about him. Williams hated being kept waiting. He was already late, his father’s voice still clawing at his brain from that last call. “I don’t want this to blow up, Williams, get that file now!”

He pulled up to The Orlen’s in one smooth motion, threw the Maserati into park, and stepped out before the engine even finished humming. Didn’t glance at the valet. He didn’t need to. Just handed the keys in the direction of a hand with a warning and walked straight through the front doors. Or tried to. 10 minutes. That was all he needed to grab the file he forgot in the hotel and say hello to the manager who offered him a drink and small talk about business.

When he came back outside, he demanded for his car to be brought. And the valet got him annoyed without trying, by just walking. “Don’t walk. Run!” he said but the valet paused and looked back without making a move for some seconds and that annoyed him more. So disrespectful for a valet. Williams’s jaw tensed. He turned to the manager and then he scanned the valet line, his cold gaze cutting through every red jacket and polished smile. He saw his car’s headlight after some minutes. The Maserati rolled closer slowly. Too slowly. It was deliberate. “What the hell is taking that guy long?” His voice cracked across the sidewalk like a whip. The hotel manager stiffened nearby. The car came to a stop and the valet stepped out.

Williams moved toward him without thinking, ready to snatch the keys and walk off. But the moment he got close, the valet looked up. And stared. Not timid. Not sorry. Not blank. No, it was the kind of look that had intent behind it. Like he knew something. Then his expression changed. He handed the keys over to Williams. His grip on the keys tightened. He wasn’t used to people looking at him like that. He couldn’t decide if it pissed him off… or intrigued him.

His mind was loud and restless, thoughts pacing in circles with no place to land. Behind him, the door clicked shut. It was Josh, his secretary. Shirtless, still in his trousers. Always obedient. “Sir, do you need the usual?” Josh asked quietly. Williams didn’t respond right away. He turned to look at him, not with emotion, not with interest, but with the tired recognition that came from routine. A kind of emptiness that had settled over time.

Sunlight slipped quietly through the tall glass windows, casting soft gold across the marble floor. Williams stood still, a glass in his hand, untouched. Life was happening somewhere; loud, bright, and full, but not here. Not to him. Behind him, Josh adjusted his pants silently. No words passed between them. There was no need. This wasn’t new. “You may leave,” Williams said, his voice low. Josh nodded and left. The door closed.

Moments later, his phone rang on the table, vibrating once, then again. And again. Mum. He hesitated, then picked it up. “Yeah?” “Happy morning, love,” her voice came through, warm and light. “Are you up?” “I’ve been up,” he replied, voice kinda rough. “Come home today. I’ld be making your favourite for dinner.”