DYLAN

I walked downstairs as I ascended the stairs. I looked over the pictures that hung up on the wall—a portrait of me and my mom with my dad behind us, his one hand on my mother's shoulder. I fixed my eyes on them; they both looked very alive, and their presence felt real for a minute.

I kept my eyes fixed on my mother. She was so beautiful, so elegant, and a perfect mother. She did have a rough path when my dad died. All the energy from her face drowned out; she looked like a dead odyssey, her eyes yellow. She refused to eat or talk to anyone. She tried smiling at me, but she would always break down in tears after a few minutes. My dad wasn't a rude guy, nor did he ever neglect his family over work, but there were times when my parents would fight a lot over external affairs that my father had or for the work he did in the underworld. These fights were the things that made me feel anxious, and I didn't give love a chance because my dad said he loved Mom. Why did you fight with her? Why did you make her cry? These were the questions in my head.

I understand fights happen in marriages, but if you really love a woman, you won't understand that she is scared that something will happen to the man she loves and things will be ruined on her end, and they were horrified. Doctors would say she died of a heart attack; I would say she died of grief. Our family wasn't always perfect, but we were okay.

Rejecting those troubling thoughts, I descended the stairs and came into the immense dining room. I felt peaceful, as it was so spacious. Before me, there were various delicious dishes on the table, which seemed to invite one to taste them all by turns.

My gaze flickered to the second plate laid out on the table, a subtle anomaly in the otherwise pristine setting. My uncle had already dined and retired for the evening, leaving me to dine alone. Yet, there it was—a silent enigma begging to be deciphered. Pushing aside my curiosity, I settled into my seat at the head of the table, casting the mystery aside for the moment.

Just as I reached for the silverware, the shrill chime of the doorbell echoed through the house, disrupting the stillness of the evening. The maids, ever-present yet oddly distant, hovered at a cautious distance, their apprehension palpable in the air.

Sensing the arrival of an unexpected visitor, I turned to one of the maids, a question poised on my lips. Before she could utter a single syllable, her words were swallowed by the intrusion of another voice—a voice tinged with familiarity yet shrouded in uncertainty.

"Is Mister Fynder here?" The words hung in the air, a tantalizing echo of the past.

A ripple of recognition coursed through the room as the maid nodded hesitantly, gesturing towards me. With a mixture of anticipation and apprehension, I rose from my seat, my footsteps echoing against the polished floors.

And there, standing before me, was Chase Meadows—my closest friend, long absent yet somehow still a presence in my life. A low chuckle escaped my lips as I closed the distance between us, the weight of six years melting away in an instant.

''Meadows?'' I said, taking a deep breath in

''Fynder,'' he said firmly, and a small smirk appeared on his face.

He walked towards me and extended his hand. I shook it and said,'' Long time, no fucking see'' I let out that deep chuckle from the bottom of my throat.

''Yeah, it's been a very long time. I missed you too, idiot.'' he laughed. 

''What are you doing here, and how did you know I was here?"' I asked him, feeling astonished.

''Well, your uncle's doctor is a friend of mine, and he told me that he has worked as your uncle's doctor and about his condition, so I kind of knew that you would've come no matter what, so I thought I would pay you a visit.'' he smiled.

I nodded and gave him the slightest smile. It was good seeing him after a while, and Chase looked the same, only he had grown a little of beard, the rest remained the same.His hair, eyes, and body were just like before. Chase also pursued business; his father left him nothing, but he did well on his part.

I gestured for him to sit, and then we helped ourselves to the food present before us. At first glance, I thought it was sketchy because we didn't part on good terms, but I guess he didn't hold a grudge.

'' Dylan..'' Chase spoke as one of the butlers started serving food on our plates.

''Yeah?'' I replied, glancing at him, and confusion swirled around my tone.

''I've been meaning to apologize. I know we both didn't end on great friendship terms and honesty. You, Miles, and Broody were all I had to something I would call a family, and you know it, we were teenagers back then, but we have grown up. We both are adults, and I've been wanting to talk to you about so much, but I left NYC and moved to DC, and I didn't have much to say. Then you know, I was a stupid teen who acted like a jerk too. You get where I am taking this conversation right because I am losing speech and my social battery is already dead from the morning, so..wanna call it a truce?'' he laughed at his last sentences, and I nodded while looking at him, my face softening a bit. 

''Yeah, I get where this is going, and I agree you were a jerk, then '' I took a sip of water, and my face is still.

''Fuck you, Dylan, he snorted. 

''Apologies accepted, and a fight goes both ways, so don't take the whole lame; I did punch you in the face, so yeah, kind of equal.'' I gave a low chuckle.

'' In that case, I take my apology back,'' he said, cutting the chicken with some extra force. , '' You are a real pain in the ass, aren't you?".

''I kind of am'' I said dryly.

''You ruined my heartfelt apology. Dylan I was at least expecting to miss you too, pal, kind of shit.'' he said, looking at me.

''I missed you, pal'' I said my tone was softening now.

''Thank you!'' he emailed dramatically. 

Chase knew me enough to know that I had gotten less expressive since high school. I never failed to laugh around them; I've had enough of life and laughing. Enjoying partying seemed really basic and overrated. It was better to keep a normal expression even around your friends, and I didn't feel more excited like I did before. It's like a part of me died when my dad left within weeks. I noticed changes in my thinking and how I acted. Maturity is one thing; I wanted to absorb myself in work, and nothing else is different. I couldn't manage to think of anything other than my work. I did not have time to date, nor did I want to do the whole dating thing with Amber. She was a good fuck, that's all, and I want loyalty within that. She was my property; I claimed her down, and that's what pissed me off. Cheating, disloyalty, and betrayal are the three things I consider unforgivable, but again, girls like these are nothing but useless sluts.

''So how is your uncle now?'' he asked while eating.

''He will be there soon,'' I replied, hiding my worries for my uncle.

'' So what is new, Mr. Fynder? I know you unlocked a new deal, a new secrecy, and killed a man who offended you at a meeting, huh?'' he replied, smirking at me.

''And I am guessing Miles told you?'' I said, raising my eyebrows.

''Yeah, he did. Are you out of your mind? I know that you are a psycho, but killing people is not okay just because they piss you off,'' he said, raising his voice slightly.

''Yeah, spare me the lecture. Meadows, he was a sketchy guy, and I can cover up well, so yeah, don't worry, he deserved it?'' I said dryly.

''Of course''. he replied and continued eating.

The silence of seconds spoke volumes,soon it broke when Chase spoke again,'' So what are you thinking now'

'' Nothing, Chase. You had people working in NYC clubs, right?'' I asked him. I just remembered that he is a valuable asset. His father owned a few pubs in NYC, which could get me some information on Ruth and Chase. He wasn't an enemy, just a distant friend, and I have done him business favors, so nothing is awkward.

''Yeah, is there anything you need? I am sure I can help,'' he said, taking his phone out.

That's Chase fucking Meadows.

"I need some information on a girl. I received the photos today but haven't forwarded them to my sources. But I think there's a chance she might be hanging around different pubs," I said, my gaze darkening with each passing moment. Chase, who also worked in the State Security Department as a head, was someone I could count on.

"Yeah, I can get the information easily for you. And don't send it to your sources. I'll look it up. I just need a name," Chase replied firmly.

"Ruth Danan," I said, maintaining eye contact with him.

"The girl from high school?" he asked, a hint of surprise in his voice.

"Yeah, her," I confirmed. "I need to talk to her. I want to know everything. A whole document, you understand what I mean."

"Yeah, you need her location, job history, family background, and where she is now," he said, rising from his seat. "I'll get you the documents by tomorrow afternoon."

"Okay, appreciated," I said, shaking his hand as he prepared to leave.

''No problem, man, I owed you this, he chuckled.'' Wanna have lunch tomorrow? Miles is dropping you as well, broody too'' he said.

'' Sure, I am free tomorrow, so I'll see you and the boys tomorrow, okay?"' I replied. 

''Yeah, for sure, and Dylan, a friendly advice: go easy on yourself; nothing was your fault; you should know that,'' he said and smiled, and I nodded.

''Yeah, I know, I replied coldly.

''Send me the photos, okay, ye, now I gotta go, ''he said, and I walked him to the door.

'' I will'' I replied in an undertone.

I took out my phone, sent him the photos, and walked back inside. Yeah, nothing was my fault. My dad dying in a so-called accident was not my fault, and my mother dying from a heartbreak that I could not have pulled her out of is not my fault. I couldn't see the real sh*It happened with my parents, and what was going on with them was not my fault. Me staying out late, drinking, wasting time, and not spending time with them wasn't my fault. Me getting my fucking ego hurt, making a girl cry, and making her beg for an apology, giving her life-time trauma, wasn't my fault. 

Yeah right?