The Wild Ones | ✔️

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Kyle stepped out into his bedroom fresh from a steamy shower. He wore a fluffy robe with his initials embossed on the right chest, and slippers made of soft alpaca fur on his feet. He slung his towel around his neck, and carelessly shook his head so that his dark hair fluffed up into spikes. The water dripped all over his furry carpet. Glancing at the mirror, he seethed how his newly dyed hair made him look like the spitting image of his father. Which was one of the main reasons he chose to dye his hair outlandish colors. It also amused him how annoyed his father got when he saw what colors Kyle chose. He tossed the towel on top of his head to cover it. Bacon bound over to him and Kyle bent down as he scooped her up into the palm of his hand.

"What's up, Bacon?" Kyle grinned softly. He pet her gently. She had grown bigger. When he first found her, she fit in one palm of his hand but now, she was a black blob that nestled between both of his outstretched hands.

He let out a little groan as he stood back up. He had just finished practicing kickboxing and his arms felt like lead. He plopped down on to the bed, and his body sunk down into the plush mattress. Bacon bounced around on his chest, and her soft padded feet tickled his bare skin. Gazing up at the ceiling, he wished he could be back at the dorms. As beautiful and opulent it was with its post modern furniture, the latest technology, and art ranging from Koons to Kusama, he felt like his room was a museum exhibit dedicated to who Kyle should be - the wealthy, snooty son of one of the richest men in the world. It was a gilded cage. A beautiful prison. Hell, he wasn't allowed to be outside the house once this entire past week. Not even to go to school. His father had arranged for all his schoolwork to be e-mailed by teachers and recorded and sent as a file. Guards strolled through his hallways, wary that he might stage an escape attempt. He was the star of the show in a few days for the party of the century - his birthday party.

Suddenly, a woman he's never seen before waltzed into the room as though she owned it. She wore a crisp white blouse and loose silky white pants. Her eyes were covered by cat eyed sunglasses. Her hair was coifed into an immaculate bun.

"Look at you," she purred through dark matte lips. "Aren't you easy on the eyes."

"And who are you?" He asked with a cocked eyebrow.

"Nice to meet you, Kyle. My name is Blair." She swung off her glasses. "I am the stylist your father hired for your party."

"Great," he muttered sarcastically. Kyle's birthday party was an annual extravaganza which his father used as an excuse to rub elbows with all the wealthiest and most influential people in the world. Namely, their daughters. As if transported back to the medieval ages, the party was his father's opportunity to sift through all the eligible ladies to find the perfect match for his son. One evening, Kyle would mingle with his father's crowd. The next night, Kyle would use it to black out and forget all that happened the evening before. However, this year was different. Davina was now his darling wife to be. So what the hell was the point of the party this year?

"I heard it's going to be your engagement party as well," she grinned widely revealing a little diamond on her tooth. "It's going to be the party of the century."

"Isn't that great," He uttered devoid of any emotions. Of course his dad would use this opportunity to publicize the engagement. Every day, he felt himself suffocate under the tight web that his father coiled. The more he tried to fight it, the more difficult it was for him to breathe. All he could do was stay still until he was devoured and used up - just like his mother.

Not quite. He thought to himself. For weeks, he had been training. Making his body stronger and harder. Strong enough to protect Emily whenever she needed him. Protecting her also required him to play his part as the dutiful, ever obedient son. He sighed before forcing a smile, "let's get this over with."