My Father Is Sick

I looked at him from head to toe with a bit of disdain. I felt it on my face and eyes, but I couldn't look at him otherwise. It was like I was programmed to be haughty in his presence.

" Is there anything I can do for you?" I asked him with a haughty voice devoid of respect and emotion. He does not consider my nasty gaze and attitude towards him; he just looks at me with a rather lovely look, different from how he is used to looking at me.

"In fact..." uh, that's precisely the question I wanted to ask you... and it was very nice what you were doing, he said hesitantly."

" And what exactly was I doing?" I asked, still glaring at him in disgust.

He chuckled nervously and shifted his gaze away from me. He scratched his neck before responding by clearing his throat.

" Uh, I'm talking about the moves, the dance moves you were performing."

" Oh yeah, did I do that? " I don't remember any of that. " I replied to him by batting my eyelashes provocatively, to make him feel uncomfortable too. I know he hates it.

" Ok, I see... I need to talk to you. Can we talk, please, Wen? "

"Hmm, my name is Ewen. You haven't forgotten that, and it's no, I have to go..."

" I know you don't have class today unless you plan to spend the day with Zack or in your studio. Either way, you can give me just a few minutes, at least three. What do you say? "

"No, it's not that at all; I really can't, and if it concerns the company, I don't intend to take over the lead."

"Stop bullshitting? It's a family business. Who else could I pass it on to but you? "

"Are you sure about that?" I challenged him.

" Anyway, it has nothing to do with the company."

Oh, all the more reason not to accept your invitation to chat. I'm sorry, but I have to slip away. "

" What about your breakfast?"

" I will make sure to have a good lunch. "Thank you for worrying about it," I said mockingly.

* It's my role, after all.

* Tch, since when? I don't think so, unfortunately.

But what's wrong with him? What is this unreasonable attitude? My father is the stubborn type. When he wants something, he will get it. I don't know what he needs today, but he won't get it this time.

I'm willing to do anything to keep my dignity in front of him this time. Never again will I allow him to step on my toes.

Why is he acting so weird? He's polite without a hint of authority, nor is there any mockery in his voice or mannerisms. He asks and does not order. It's not his type. Did he fall on his head?

No, that's not it; he must be very sick, hm? Or at least he caught some sh*t; that must be something dangerous to digest.

* Well, it's up to you... we'll have time anyway, and you have to call Zack. He's worried about you.

* Everyone knows he's still like that; it doesn't matter; he'll calm down soon when he has done whining like a pup.

* So I don't have to worry about you now, is that so? When you disappeared without giving me any news when we were together, Zack's voice rose in the direction of the kitchen.

* What? I see you are already there; I thought you slept at home last night, right?

* Yeah, that's right, but I came early to talk to you before you disappeared again.

* Is it an ambush? Launched my mother, who surely didn't miss anything of the conversation I had with my father until the intervention of Zack. She must be waiting for the right time to step in.

* But what are you talking about? My father asked her, a little annoyed now.

"Because you behave like his jailers." My mother threw at him on the defensive, ready to fight the fight of her life for my survival. She spoke as she walked down the stairs. She stood between my father and me and kissed me on my right cheek before glaring at them.

So honey, did you sleep well? She said it with a hint of mischief in her voice, her eyes shining with excitement.

Like a baby, I hear myself responding cheerfully.

So, what are we doing today? She said, "My day is in your hands, my bunny."

We go shopping and have brunch. I said, completely forgetting the presence of my father and Zack.

My father says, "I can join you."

* Nope! The no left on its own in chorus with my mother's.

My father took a step back from the aggressive response and threw, " No need to be aggressive; I just wanted to try to slip into the duo. It's not as if I was going to impose myself."

" And you, Zack, do you have an objection to the fact that I want to spend the day alone with my son, or would you like to slip into the duo too?" My mother asked, glaring at them.

* Oh, what am I getting into? The latter replied in a conciliatory tone, which made my parents laugh, and I headed for the dining room.

Strangely, all this conversation makes me hungry. I get myself a green apple and a glass of water, thinking about how to tell my mother about yesterday. There's no way I can escape this.

I still can't believe I have a boyfriend, so how can I explain that the boyfriend in question was one of my obsessions for a while? And also that he is the youngest and sexiest billionaire and businessman on the planet.

I must be dreaming, or is it a lousy trick being played on me? Just as I said to my father, I have decided that no one, not even me, will prevent me from living this adventure that has just been offered to me.

I decided not to reveal Quincy's true identity to my mother and keep the most relevant explanations to myself.

My mother says to my father, "Come on, my dear," while putting a hand on his clean-shaven cheek. Let the mother enjoy her son today. Maybe you'll get your chance another day. What do you say, hm?

My father replied, "I don't have another choice, anyway." touching my mother's hand on his right cheek.

He closed his eyes for a moment and let out a sigh. He tried something anyway before giving up completely. " So let me be the driver at least."

"No driver," I shouted from across the room.

"It's bad luck," said my mother with a smile.

Zack followed me to the kitchen with a dumbfounded face.

You haven't slept enough; you have to pay attention to your complexion, I tell him, examining him from head to toe.

Zack is someone who is not too complicated at all. He dresses as he pleases; he just has to feel good about himself or be covered.

My mom and I cleaned out his closet last summer, and we almost threw everything out, but that didn't stop him from finding a way to impress us with his fashion style.

He dresses appropriately, I mean, with class and style, and is very refined when it is imperative or when the occasion in question demands it; then, he has no choice.

Sometimes, with the help of my mother or mine, he lets himself be transformed. We both have magic fingers, and he allows us to choose what he should wear without any problems on these occasions.

After that, he doesn't care about his appearance, but he's a handsome man, not like Aim. Hehe, I'm blushing. It's unbelievable. Will this thing last long? Will it always be like this?

Every time he touches me and brushes me with his hand or his lips, I will have to tremble and blush like a tomato. I didn't even know I could blush that hard. It would help if you never said never.

Would there always be those kinds of after-effects on me when I started thinking about those moments, those feelings? It's as if he left his touch on my skin; all I have to do is think of him to trigger those feelings to surface like an automatic mechanism.

Hmm, but unlike Zack, despite the countless simple joggers and t-shirts he constantly wears, he has a good taste and is very refined. I didn't expect that at all. I was transported to another world.

It's not like Zack couldn't afford designer clothes; they're all designer clothes; he just doesn't care how he wears them. I don't know what he would have done if he wasn't handsome. For him, it's just a matter of not staying naked, nothing more.

Zack stares at me, sulking. I know he's still mad at me. He doesn't worry about his family as much as he worries about me and my safety, and I adore him. He hates it when I let him down, and I know it, but sometimes he overdoes it.

* Don't act like my skin tone matters or something. And don't talk to me either until you tell me where you've been. You scared the hell out of me, man. What's your problem, huh?

Can I know why you're moaning so much? It's not like I ran away to a war zone or anything worse. I was out. I wanted to take some time for myself, so I went out. And here I am, flesh and bone, everything in place, safe and sound. What more do you want?

So, stop sticking to my ass and harping on my ears. I am an adult; I remind you.

You have changed. You don't put yourself so much on defense that you go out without telling me. You apologized, and you called me to tell me where you were. Now, look at yourself. Who were you with?

You know what, man? Fuck you... and fuck you again, Zack. I put the glass down to get away from him.

He took a quick step toward me, but the way I looked at him made him stop his action. The hand he was planning to grab my arm fell limply along his body, and he sighed.

I exaggerated; I'm sorry. I admit it, but I was worried since it's not in your habit, okay? Are you happy now?

I stared at him without saying a word and walked away. He looked tired. He needs to sleep. He stood there staring at me for a moment before following me.

I must have scared the hell out of him, as he said. But I don't think it's my fault that he's always been upside down about me.

I wanted to tell him to go and rest, but I didn't want him to take my worry as some invitation to talk about this whole thing, so I went out to find my mother without telling him anything.