IAN CARMICHAEL

I waited, counting the seconds it would take for me to lose patience over watching my mother fake enthusiasm at a story that was not in the least interesting. Unless she had suddenly developed interest in watching old men play golf.

My mother was not usually the ass kissing kind. There were only a handful of people she reserved that privilege for. And the new minister of mining and energy, Nathaniel Falcon was one of them.

I could not fault her for it. She was doing what every good business man would do. Make connections with the right people.

I should be trying to insert myself in the conversation. After all, she had wanted to introduce me to him. But I was in no mood to entertain an old man. I was rarely ever in a mood to entertain anyone.

Yet here I was, at the birthday party, hosted by my mother's politician brother in law.

“Perhaps you should join us in one of our games. I’m sure you'll have a good time”, Mr. Falcon suggested.

“That sounds like a great idea. Or better still, why don't we host a family game?” She asked with a beautiful fake smile plastered on her face.

Mr. Falcon’s smile almost started to slip at the suggestion.

The sleazy old man.

“It would be a lot of fun. You see, these days, everyone is always too busy to spend time with family. I think this will be a good way to do that and also get to know each other more”, she explained with a bright smile.

Get to know each other more, my foot. She knew very well how much those kinds of meetings annoy the shit out of me. Yet she always dragged me to them, saying I needed to make connections.

She was right.

“Right, Ian?” She looked up at me.

“That sounds like a good idea”, I replied mechanically.

“Oh well, it doesn't sound bad”. Mr. Falcon chuckled, the spark of excitement at spending time with my mother back on his face.

The recently divorced man probably thought he had found a beautiful woman with power and connections, who was interested in him. Any smart man would know that Alicia Carmichael only ever used people either for what they can offer her, or for amusement. But Mr. Falcon wasn't one.

“Don't mind Ian here. He has always been like this. I’m still trying to bring him out so he can socialise more”, she said, gently touching my arm.

“Youngsters these days. They're all like that”. Mr. Falcon looked at me with a click of his tongue, and Mum chuckled.

As much as I did not like ‘socializing’ with people I would not normally talk to, I usually bore with it. My position required it.

But sometimes, it can get… exhausting. Which was why I was cranky and losing patience more than usual.

“You should listen to your mother, son. That attitude will get you nowhere”, Mr. Falcon rendered his unsolicited advice.

“I will try to do better, sir”, I forced a small smile.

“That's more like it. Waiter!” He waved his hand.

The smile on Mum's face fell when Christian appeared with a tray, dressed in a waiter’s uniform and wearing a polite smile.

She glared at him. And when Mr. Falcon was not watching, he gave her a wink.

The idiot was probably enjoying every bit of his act of rebellion.

I didn't think I had ever heard of anyone playing waiter on his father's birthday. He was doing it just to piss his father off. And with the way I noticed how Sebastian Mayor would glance at his son with a hard look once in a while, it was working.

“Thank you”, Mum smiled, taking the glass of wine from Mr. Falcon.

I gave him a ‘fuck off’ look when he glanced at me. The punk only smirked, before walking away.

Sebastian Mayor had always hidden away his family for the sake of privacy. But at this point, he was hiding Christian to save himself from public embarrassment by his son.

Not like it ever stopped Christian from trying. There was a chance that a close friend or relative might tell a guest that Sebastian Mayor’s son was a waiter.

Mum was still talking to Mr. Falcon, and I was beginning to tune them out. Which meant it was time for me to leave.

“Excuse me, please”, I said, before walking away from them, without waiting for a response.

I resisted the urge to grab my tie and tug at it. I hated ties. But Mum had seen me without one, and she wanted to help me put it on. I couldn't refuse.

Sitting at one of the bar stools, I grabbed a bottle of non alcoholic wine, and poured myself a glass.

The main part of the party had been over a long time ago. People were chatting with each other, making connections, or just catching up with acquaintances.

I couldn't wait to leave. I needed good sleep. It had been a while since I last slept well.

“Ian?” I looked up when I heard a soft, familiar voice call my name. Jasmine.

She smiled, before walking towards where I was sitting.

I realised I had barely seen or spoken to her since the party began. Probably because she had been glued to her mother.

“You look gorgeous”, I said, observing how well the dress suited her, and how prettier her hazel eyes looked.

“Thanks”, Jasmine replied sweetly.

“You don't look bad yourself”, Jasmine said, taking a seat.

“It seems like your mother finally let you get away from her side”, I said.

“Yeah”, she sighed tiredly. “I can say the same for you. Are you alright? You look tense”, Jasmine asked, looking concerned.

“I’m just a bit stressed. Nothing a good sleep won't solve”, I said.

Jasmine looked like she wanted to say something, but she held back, sighing.

“I’ll just sit here with you and keep you company. Is that okay?” Jasmine asked.

“Sure”, I agreed, pouring her a drink.

“Thanks”.

I nodded.

And then she did not say anything else. Jasmine was one of the few people whose company I didn't mind. I didn't know how she managed to go from the girl whom I just tolerated, to someone who mattered.

It took her years, but she managed to worm herself into my life.

“What the hell is Christian thinking?” Jasmine asked, watching him with a bewildered look.

“I don't know. But he does seem to be enjoying his job”, I replied dryly. There was a self satisfied smile on his face.

“He just loves seeking attention, doesn't he?” Jasmine seemed to ask herself, still watching him.

I wouldn't call Christian’s antics just seeking attention. On the surface it seemed like he just enjoyed annoying his father. But in reality, it was his own way of coping. Of not letting himself turn back to the darkness again.

“I need to go to the restroom”, Jasmine said, and I nodded at her.

After she excused herself, I caught Christian from the corner of my eye, being dragged by someone behind the wall. From the tip of the dress, I could tell it was Mum.

She was going to give him a lecture. He would apologize to her, but nothing would change. Same old cycle.

“You fucking idiot!”

I turned to the direction of the yell. Unsurprisingly, it was my aunt causing a scene at a party. Again.

Sighing, I left the bar and stalked towards the area where people were already turning to. Everyone's attention was on her.

“Do you know how much this dress cost?!” Stella Carmichael bellowed, her face twisted in rage.

Her blue sleeve was stained with black liquid. There was a half empty wine glass in her hand.

I'd bet a million dollars that she spilled the wine on herself.

There was a waitress holding a tray in front of her, staring back with a hurt expression. I could tell she was shaken, from the way the tray seemed to tremble in her grip.

The girl looked very young, and… small. A single tear ran down her eye, her lips pursed tightly.

“Are you just going to stand there? Apologize you dumb piece of shit!” She yelled, going for her. She nearly stumbled on her feet, probably drunk.

I could not fathom why they kept inviting her to parties. She belonged in an asylum.

“That's enough!” I grabbed her arm, before she could hit her. If she hadn't already.

“Let me go! What kind of people do you all hire these days? I have to teach her a lesson!”

“Leave”, I told the girl gently.

She did not waste a second, before turning around. Her steps were quick as she hurried away.

“Fire her! People like her should not be allowed to work here! She didn't even apologize. Who the hell does she think she is?!”

My ever loving aunt struggled in my arms. I tightened my grip on her, resisting the urge to let her go just so she would fall on her face.

My eyes met with the celebrant. He gave me an exhausted look.

I didn't think the man would be hosting another birthday party in the next few years.

I beckoned the security man standing at a corner.

And then I leaned into her ear.

“Stop causing a scene and leave quietly or get dragged out of here like a criminal. Your choice”. I threatened.

Her stillness told me she understood perfectly.

The last time she was dragged out of a party kicking and screaming, she made the headlines.

“Escort Miss Carmichael outside”, I said dryly, letting her go.

She stumbled forward, towards the security man. Probably because I gave her a slight nudge.

Once she had left quietly, I turned to the guests.

“Sorry for the inconvenience”, I said, not sounding one bit apologetic.

I was walking back to the bar when Christian approached me.

“What happened?” He asked, looking around the hall of people whispering among themselves.

“It's my aunt again”, I said.

“Who's the victim this time?” He asked with a smirk, probably happy that someone had disrupted his father's party.

“Some waitress”, I said, thinking back to the girl.

Christian blinked at me, his smirk slowly slipping off.

“What did she look like?”

“Small, dark haired girl. She didn't look like she was past sixteen”, I described, thinking about her frail form. “Why?” I tilted my head.

A look of dread crossed his expression.

“Shit”, Christian swore, before taking off in a hurry.

What was that about?

INA DAVIS

I did not see it coming.

“You stupid bitch!”

My head swerved to the side, cheek stinging. I turned to look at the woman, meeting her face which was painted with rage.

I waited for the anger to come. But there was nothing. All I felt was the ache in my chest that had been there for quite a while. It was as though I had no strength left to feel anything, except for despair.

“Do you know how much this dress costs?!” She bellowed, glowering at me with her wide, reddened eyes.

My gaze shifted to the sleeve of her dress which was stained with the dark coloured wine.

I might have been partially absent, but I knew there was no way I spilled the wine on her. Not when she had been the one to take it off my tray.

And even if I had, it was no cause for her to slap me across the face.

Everyone's attention was on us. Yet I knew no one would say a thing against her. It was unfair, and I was tired.

Why was everything so hard?

I thought of how much I had to endure and how much I was still enduring. Why was it so easy for her to hit me like that? Like I was nothing.

I wanted to give her a piece of my mind, even if it put me in trouble. But I could not bring myself to do it. A single tear dropped from my face, as I willed my hands not to tremble.

“Are you just going to stand there? Apologize you dumb piece of shit!”

I saw her coming for me. But I could not will myself to move out of her reach.

“That's enough!” I heard a male voice order, as someone grabbed her.

Tears blurred my vision, and I was struggling to hold myself from breaking down in front of them.

“Let me go! What kind of people do you all hire these days? I have to teach her a lesson!” She yelled.

Teach her a lesson.

Perhaps he should not have held her back. Maybe that would have triggered me enough to do something that would probably get me in trouble.

“Leave”, the man ordered.

I did not wait. Else, I would only break further in front of them.

I abandoned the tray somewhere, rushing to get to the restroom.

I wiped my tears on my way, but they kept falling. I hardly cried. But once the tap opened, it was hard to close.

I bumped into someone on my way.

“Sorry”, I heard her apologize.

I nodded, walking forward.

But she held me back by my arm. I looked up, meeting a pair of soft hazel eyes. Her brows drew together.

“Are you alright?” She asked, sounding concerned.

“I’m fine”, I managed to say hoarsely, nodding my head.

“Excuse me”. I pulled myself off her, quickly getting away before she could say or ask me anything else.

Once I entered the restroom, I walked into one of the cubicles and shut the door.

I slid to the floor, supporting myself by the wall.

Alone, without worry of anyone seeing me, I let it all out.

All I could hear was the sound of me crying loudly.

I thought back to how hard I worked, and how much I tried to stay positive throughout everything. Yet nothing much had changed. It was like everything was against me.

And I couldn't even find someone to vent on, except myself. The one person I wanted her comfort, was the main source of my pain.

For how long would this go on?

Of course I was still very young, and had a lot ahead of me. There was still so much I could do. But could I stay strong till then?

My phone began to ring in my pocket. I stopped crying, reaching to take it out.

It was Christian. He probably heard about what happened.

I let out a shaky breath, trying to calm down before taking the call.

“Ina? Where are you? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine”, I replied, my voice hoarse.

“Shit, I’m so sorry about what happened? Where are you now? I've been looking for you”, he asked worriedly.

He also sounded a bit guilty. Christian was the one who helped me get the job. We worked together at a small fast food restaurant, where I did deliveries and he was a cleaner.

“I went to the restroom. I’m good, Christian”, I said to reassure him and myself, as I stood up. I felt slightly better after all that crying.

There was silence.

“Where are you now?” He demanded.

“I’m on my way home. Don't look for me, Christian. I… I just want to be alone”, I said, walking out of the cubicle.

I hoped he understood.

Christian sighed.

“I… Alright, Ina. Just take care of yourself, okay. I'll call you tomorrow”, he said softly.

“Thanks. Bye Christian”, I ended the call.

I stopped to look at myself in the long mirror on the wall. My eyes looked red and puffy, face streaked with tears and snot.

After washing my face and drying it with a napkin, I looked better.

I was supposed to be on my way home. Yet I was sitting on the floor at the rooftop of the venue, staring at the night sky.

Probably because my roommate would be waiting for me back home, and I was in no mood to talk to anyone. I just wanted to be alone. And the view was good.

As much as I did not want to drown in my problems, I could not help thinking back to her.

My mother.

She was alive and a taxi drive away, yet I was missing her. So much that it hurt.

Life had not really been easy for us from the beginning, but at least I had her. And now I was alone, left with only a shadow of her.

Sometimes it would seem like she was here with me. But I knew it was just a mirage. It was always so easy for her to slip back into her manic state.

Yet every time I saw her, I always wished to see that shadow. It hurt to know it would not last, but it always gave me hope. The mother I knew was still there.

I rubbed my arm over my sweater, breathing in the cold air. Hugging my bag to my chest, I paused when I felt the bottle.

Christian’s bottle.

He had given it to me earlier, telling me it was stolen that I had to hide it for him. And then he promised we would have it together after work.

Actually, he had shoved it inside my bag with an ‘I love you, you're the best Ina’.

I had blushed, and he had given me one of those mischievous, heart wrenching smiles of his.

A smile touched my lips when I brought it out to look at it.

It was an expensive wine.

And it was the perfect weather and scene to drink. I pouted, realizing I was missing a wine glass.

But oh well, I would manage.

I bit my lower lip with a smile as I uncorked the wine bottle.

IAN CARMICHAEL

I tugged at my tie as I made my way to the rooftop venue. I inhaled the cold air once the tie had loosened.

The party was over, with guests already leaving. But I did not want to go home just yet. My head was reeling, and I knew I needed a breath of fresh air.

I heard a soft groan.

My eyes narrowed when I saw a girl sitting on the floor asleep, back resting against the railing. There was an empty wine bottle lying beside her.

Annoyance tickled my chest. There was always someone when I needed space.

I furrowed my brows when I realised it was the waitress from earlier. The girl Christian had been worried about. After going off to find her, he had told me she left for home.

But then she was here, probably drunk. Her head was tilted in an unnatural angle.

She would be waking up with a hangover and a stiff neck.

Was she even old enough to drink?

The girl moaned, twisting in her sleep.

What was her relationship with Christian? She looked like an inconvenience. But then again, he was fond of picking up stray animals, which he would abandon after some time. Perhaps his attention had shifted to humans.

Maybe I should tell Christian his little friend was here. Or not, I couldn't be bothered.

I tore my eyes away from her.

“Please”.

I stopped walking when I heard a weak plea. I turned around, only to see that she still had her eyes closed.

“Please… don't leave. Stay”, she begged, moaning in her sleep.

I frowned at her.

She couldn't be talking to me. But it felt that way. Like I would be doing something wrong if I walked away. It was annoying.

A single tear trickled down her closed eyes.

She sure seemed to like crying a lot.

“Mum… I’m sorry…”, she cried.

Was she having a nightmare?

I debated on whether I should wake her. And why I was still standing there with her.

“Ahh, shit”, I murmured under my breath.

My legs pulled me forward, and I was walking towards her.

The girl whimpered. Something strange tickled my chest seeing her like that. She looked meek. So… innocent.

“Hey, wake up”, I said harshly.

But it did not look like she was going to wake up like that.

Cursing under my breath, I stooped low before her.

“Please”, she begged.

Unlike earlier, her hair had been let loose from its ponytail, framing her face. The length of it cast over her shoulders, falling down her waist.

With her small face, small nose and pouty lips, she looked… cute.

Not Christian's type. It clearly was not that kind of relationship.

I let out a sigh, realizing I was watching the girl instead of waking her up.

I quickly reached to grab her by her shoulders when she started slipping sideways.

“Wake up!”

She groaned, swaying in my grip.

“Hey!”

Her eyes twitched like she was struggling to open them.

“Oh”. She fell forward, her head on my chest.

“Seriously?”, I muttered, looking up and taking a deep breath to fill up my patience. I just knew she would be trouble.

I pushed her from my chest, supporting her body with my arm.

Not only did she fall into a drunken sleep outside and alone, but she also refused to wake up. Zero survival instincts.

I grabbed her chin.

She groaned again. And then finally she opened her eyes.

My chest tightened. Gray eyes. Dazed, yet stunning. The most distracting thing I had seen all night.

IAN CARMICHAEL

I was pulled out of my haze when she suddenly pushed my hand, pulling away from me.

I let her go, rising up.

The girl looked around with confused, heavy eyes.

“Where am I?”

I narrowed my eyes, watching her scramble around. She looked clumsy.

“And who are you?” She asked, when she finally looked at me.

I tried not to look at her eyes.

“Where do you think you are?” I asked in response to her first question, glaring down at her.

She pouted, looking around. And then she scratched her head with a confused look.

“Oh!” Her eyes lit up. And then she giggled. “Party”.

Her smile fell, expression turning sad as if remembering something.

“It wasn't my fault. Why did she slap me? She was so mean”, she complained to no one in particular.

Why was I still standing there? She had woken up.

But I could not just leave her. She was drunk. It was unsafe.

I may not be the nicest person, but I was a decent human being at least. Sometimes.

“Where do you live?” I asked, harsher than I intended.

She looked at me, blinking slowly as if trying to remember her address.

“Why do you want to know?” She asked.

Patience.

“Because I want to take you home”, I explained, willing my voice to be calmer.

She narrowed her eyes at me. “How am I sure you aren't trying to kidnap me?”

I glared down at her. Why would I try to kidnap her? But then again, I was a stranger and she was drunk.

“I’m Christian's friend”, I said. Surely, that was enough for her to trust me.

“Why do you keep glaring at me like I pooped on your shoes?” She asked calmly.

My expression cracked at the weird image that question put in my head. The fuck?

I chuckled, shaking my head.

“Did Christian send you to pick me up?”

My smile fell.

“Yes”. No.

I should have called Christian to pick up his friend. But I did not.

She continued to look at me with a suspicious gaze. Like I was some kidnapper trying to convince a child to get inside his car.

“Okay”, she shrugged, giving in.

I couldn't help but wonder what was going through that drunk mind of hers.

She reached for her bag, before stretching it towards me.

I looked at the black crossbag, then at her. She stared back at me expectantly.

I huffed, before taking the bag from her.

But her hand remained stretched. When I did not answer, she waved it at me.

This girl…

I grabbed her hand. It felt softer, smaller. Trying not to dwell on how nice it felt to hold, I pulled her up.

She stumbled, but I caught her, holding her close by wrapping my arm around her back.

“Thanks”, she said with a smile.

I nodded at her.

“Christian never told me about you. Well he doesn't tell me much about himself either. What's your name?” She asked, as I led her outside the venue, through the back.

The last thing I wanted was someone seeing us and asking questions. It would be troublesome.

“Ian”, I said.

“Ian”, she repeated, as if testing the sound of my name.

I wanted to know hers. But I did not ask. It was pointless when I was not going to see her again.

“Are you like his best friend?”

“Something like that”. I had known Christian since I was young. He was a clingy fucker, who made it his mission to annoy me on a daily basis. After the incident, we became closer.

“Does he have any other friends?”

I let out a sigh.

“Ask him yourself”, I replied dully. Why was she asking me about him? It seemed like they were not close enough for her to know anything important about him.

“Christian is really nice. He's a bit naughty sometimes, and sweet. I like his smile”, she smiled dreamily, as if thinking about him.

I narrowed my eyes at her, hoping for her sake that she did not have a crush on Christian. Not like it was my business if she got hurt.

“You have a cute smile too”, she said, looking at me.

My brows drew together, then I remembered I had smiled when she said something about shitting on my shoes.

I did not know how to feel about her compliment, knowing well I barely smiled.

“I feel sick”, she grumbled, looking away.

We were outside already, and my car was not far away.

“Do you want to throw up?” I asked.

Before I could lead her towards the grasses, she leaned forward and puked over my arm.

“Shit”, I cursed lowly, quickly leading her beside my car.

She bent forward, throwing up over the grasses while I supported her.

She coughed, retching. I rubbed her back.

I frowned at the girl. She was making me do things I would never do for a stranger. It's probably because she was Christian’s friend, and he would not want her to be left alone like that.

“Do you feel better now?” I asked, once she was done.

She nodded.

“Wait here”, I said, leaving her to stand. Keeping my eyes on her, I opened my car and brought out a bottle of water.

“Here, wash your face”. She took it from me.

I watched her wash her mouth and face, before she handed the bottle back to me.

“Come here”, I said, sounding weirdly soft as I helped her inside the passenger seat of my car.

Once she was in, I removed my suit jacket, throwing it in the back seat along with her bag, before heading to the driver's seat.

“You have a nice car”, she said, looking around with a small frown on her face.

“Are you sure you're Christian’s friend?” She asked.

“You can ask him about me”, I said dryly, kicking the car back to life.

“Look, if you're going to… kidnap me just know that I have nothing to offer. My mother is mentally unstable, she probably won't recognise me. And Christian can't afford to bail me out either”, she explained, sounding rather calm for someone who was afraid of being kidnapped.

“Is that so?” I asked distantly, thinking about how she knew nothing about Christain’s background. I was suddenly curious about their relationship, because he seemed to care about her.

“Yes!” She nodded.

And her mother was mentally unstable. She had been crying about her in her sleep.

“What if it's not money I want?” I asked lowly, trying to tease her for amusement. I did not want to dwell too much on how hard it must have been for her, with her mentally unstable mother and all.

“Huh?” She sounded confused.

I kept my eyes on the road as I drove into it.

“Um… I’m not very healthy. My organs won't fetch you good money”.

I looked at her briefly, letting out a chuckle.

“Where do you live?” I asked.

There was silence. I glanced at her.

“I don't remember. My brain feels like mashed potatoes”, she mumbled, pouting her lips.

The hell…

“Try to remember”, I said calmly, trying to be patient with her. There was no way she had forgotten her address.

“I can't. It will make my brain hurt”, she mumbled.

I let out a sigh.

“Fine”, I said. I would drop her at a hotel.

“Where are you taking me?” She asked.

“A brothel”, I murmured.

“That won't work. I’m not sexy enough for that”, she sounded dull and slightly disappointed.

I didn't know why I gave her a once over at her answer, but I did.

With her loose jeans and sweater, I did not really see much.

“How old are you anyways?” I asked.

“Forty five”, she answered dully.

I scoffed, followed by a small tug of my lips.

I could see why Christian was friends with her. I wondered how she was when sober.

After a few minutes of silence, I looked at her to find her staring at me.

“Are all of Christian’s friends as handsome as you?” She asked casually and out of the blue.

I blinked, taken aback by the question.

“Ask Christian when you see him”, I replied, trying not to dwell on the fact that she just told me I was handsome. A lot of people compliment my looks all the time. It should not mean anything.

“Hmm”, she hummed. I could still feel her eyes on me.

“Brown eyes, thick brows, high cheek bones and sharp jawlines. You have a nice set of lips too. I like them the most”, she said casually, like she was listing items off a grocery list.

My cheeks warmed. I ran my tongue over my teeth, tapping my finger on the steering wheel.

She was intoxicated. I doubted she would be that forward while sober.

When I glanced at her, she was no longer looking at me, now staring at the window.

_____________________

“What's the name of this hotel again?” She asked, as I led her inside her room.

I ignored her question, like I had been ignoring her other random ones and sentences.

I turned on the lights, after which I turned on the heater. The room felt cold.

“Is this okay?” I asked, turning to look at her.

“The hell…”, I cursed, quickly turning away. She had taken off her sweater, leaving on what looked like a sports bra.

I had not lingered to stare, but I did see that for a petite person, she had a rather sizable chest.

“Put your sweater back on”, I told her. Was she not cold?

“No, it's dirty”, she refused.

When I turned to look at her, she was climbing on the bed. I sighed.

It wasn't like she was that exposed. I had seen a lot of women walking around in less. I was just… taken aback.

“Fine”, I grumbled.

She brought up the duvet, covering her body, much to my relief. At least she wouldn't catch a cold.

She closed her eyes for a moment, only to open them again.

“You won't take advantage of me in my sleep, will you?” She asked.

As if I would admit to that if I had those intentions.

“Sleep”, I said.

“Goodnight”, she murmured, before closing her eyes again.

I waited.

She remained quiet, already fallen asleep.

I sighed, turning off the bright lights to leave the dim ones on.

“Goodnight”, I said, walking out of her hotel room.

The door could not be opened from outside with the key inside, so I did not have to worry about some weirdo walking inside her room.

Why was I worried about a girl I barely knew?

I shook my head. I probably won't see her again. For some reason, I was glad about that.