bird | r.c

eat or be eaten

WEDNESDAY

"I'LL STOP by tomorrow. Just for friendly conversation, see what he has to say."

And so I did.

I pulled up to a large house with one of Kiara's bikes she let me borrow until my car got here the very next day, immediately noticing the marble pillars the house partly rested upon and the vines that heavily decorated them.

It made me frown, seeing how exorbitant the Thornton family truly was. I understood the need to spend the money that seemed to be in abundance to the people around here, I just never took them to be... gushy.

Why buy ugly things if you've got the money?

I stepped off of the bike and put it on its stand, shoving my phone deep into my back pocket after turning off the Google Maps app that I used to get here in the first place, and walked over to the giant set of stairs that needed to be crossed in order to get to the stained oak door at the top.

I exhaled slowly as I started walking up the stairs, my thighs brushing against each other with every move I made. "Morning, my name is Wren Dubois. I'm here to see Topper Thornton, is he home?" I kept repeating to myself, almost rehearsing it as I realised I did feel intimidated after all.

You see, I was quite used to being around I guess what you could call 'rich people'. Hell, Boston was filled with them. My mom's friend group consisted of them, and yet, no matter how hard I tried, the distinct coldness that outed itself in extreme formality that covered me from head to toe whenever I was around them never seemed to grow on me. I just never felt the same kindness, compassion, if you will, for them the way I did for less-fortunate people. I guess it was no different to those around here, the Kooks.

And so, when I finally rang the overly large doorbell, a shiver ran down my spine.

I softly kept repeating the mantra to myself until the door opened, and, like clockwork, I drummed up what I had been rehearsing.

"Good morning, my name is Wren Dubois. I'm here to see Topper Thornton. Does he happen to be home?" I asked the boy who opened the door. He was pretty tall, and the hair that flatly laid on top of his head was highlighted, the blonde tips standing out even more thanks to the tan that tinted his skin.

"You're talking to him," he replied smugly, probably judging me for the shit I was wearing, or my hair, or my- whatever.

Not even a 'good morning'. Rude.

"Right, yeah. Well, uhm.. I'm Wren, nice to meet you, too."

I gave him yet another chance to introduce himself, but when he didn't shake the hand I was holding out for him and the air filled with even more tension, I decided to let it go.

"You're probably wondering why I'm here. I'll just get straight to it; you might remember hearing something about an incident last night. Teenage boy that fell off Hawk's around midnight?"

His eyes widened in surprise, clearly taken aback by my words. "You're his lawyer, aren't you?"

"His cousin, actually. No worries, he's not planning on filing anything against you, we would just like to talk about a financial compensation regarding his medical bill that needs to be paid. Would that be okay with you?"

I didn't look that old, did I?

The smug expression dropped and made place for a rather anxious one. "Why don't we, uhm..." He felt around his pockets for what I assumed to be a phone or wallet. "Why don't we take this somewhere else, huh? How'd you even get here in the first place?"