Sweet Little Lies

Chapter Thirty-Two

Tai Hayashi moved through the shadows as he always did. Like he was born from them. From far too young of an age, he had been sneaking around the city. The catacombs under the temple on the westside of Queenstown were his playground. Those were connected to the other tunnels underneath the city, a maze of halls and dead ends that led everywhere.

When he was five years old, he snuck into the capital building, listening in on the politicians arguing for hours. Of course, Tai didn't understand anything of what they were saying, but he went back home and told his sister, Ren. Kazue, his father had overheard him bragging about his adventure, and when he revealed himself to Tai and Ran, both so young, he was terrified.

At that age, he had barely known his father. To be fair, he still didn't really know him. Even with all the time he spent with him now as he trained Tai to inherit his position. But back then, he had been raised by nannies and tudors. His parents were there, but in the way a king and queen looked over their peasants.

What he did know was Kazue was terrifying. Only a few months before that incident, he had spied him coming home late at night, white shirt and hands painted in red. It was only recently he realized that it had been blood.

So, little five-year-old Taiki was shocked when his dad brought him into his private study and asked him more about the meeting the politicians were having. Tai had told him everything he remembered, stumbling over words here and there that he didn't understand.

While he stood there, Tai shut his eyes, expecting a hit to his head at any time, but instead, his father's large hand clamped down on his shoulder, and his deep voice said, "Good job, boy."

A few weeks later, he was called back to his study, this time his father requesting something from Tai. He wanted Tai to go back down. This time to the east, near the docks. There was a map on the desk. His father made him sit there and memorize the turns all night. Then, the next night, he was sent below.

He was silent, always had been, sly and quick. He could hide anywhere. His parents took advantage of that. The rest of his childhood had been spent memorizing the catacombs and tunnels, the streets correlating above, creating his own foolproof map of the underground. He could move through them in pure darkness. He had become a spider essentially.

His father's personal, controllable, spider.

To this day, he used them to travel around the city. It was faster than slumming it above, the traffic a constant. Some days he just hung out below, because everything was too much and he needed some peace and quiet.

His meeting today was one he was taking precaution for. He knew the exits of this particular bar, the door in the back that led to a basement with a hidden door that had a staircase that led to the underground. No one would see him slip away.

Tai was surprised to be asked to meet Harry Styles tonight. The last time hadn't gone well. He had gone in desperate with no plan. Yet another night ending between him and Astrid that led to the same fight, and in turn, him practically begging Styles to let him in on whatever he was planning.

He wanted to go public. She didn't.

Tai knew Harry and Ivy were the blueprint. They could lead the way for him and Astrid. Things were a little different, but they could do it too. Right?

He was tired of hiding in the shadows when it came to Astrid. He was tired of seeing her across the room at parties and not be able to go to her. They couldn't dance when their song came on, or even speak to each other without people whispering.

Tai was seen as the loose cannon, not all there in the head, a viscous fighter in the ring. Only Tatianna Dvorsky and her savage cruelty beat him. Many would see their pairing as he was the hunter and sweet Astrid would be the prey. He was sure her friends, the Malone cousins, would be adamantly against him. But if they choose to come out on their own, do it right, controlled the narrative, then all the whispering and gossip and assumptions would eventually silence.