𝐍𝐨 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐓𝐨 𝐃𝐢𝐞

𝟎𝟎

["Hot summer nights, mid-July,
When you and I were forever wild."]

❦

Present Day

I somehow managed to find my way to the conference room. The new suit hugged my body perfectly and I almost forgot the feeling of it. Compared to my father, I was adroit to get up without cogitating twice about the previous night.

Which didn't even happen.

"Mr. Hunter. Good morning to you too." The man in front of me held out his hand with the usual fake tender smile I had grown accustomed to.

I could instantiate that his crooked lips did not reach his old dark eyes as I shook his hand.

"It's Aaron Stoia," I answered dryly without any enthusiasm as I sat on the sofa without waiting for the man to introduce himself. I have no intention of explaining the reason for changing my last name now, notably since I know he wouldn't remember it anyway. "Let's skip the details and get straight to the point."

I let the leather gloves tighten around my skin as I picked up the crystal whiskey glass.

I drank it, knowing that my throat had gotten used to the burning, taste sensation. Alcohol has become a daily obligation that I handle effortlessly. Being envious is something I never planned, but otherwise, it makes the pain more bearable.

"So I have the papers already, all you have to do is sign here and everything will be done." The gray-haired man handed me the chemical and I signed without wavering.

Beatitude I hadn't felt in a while spread through my veins and nervous system, leaving trails of heat behind and inducing me to almost, but just almost, smile.

The man took the papers from the table, reposing them in a black folder decorated with a globe in the center with small figures around it. Assuming, I let my mind cover the meaning behind the drawing.

Smiling, the children are holding hands, but the only thing I can think about is how their heads are disproportionately drawn.

I take a deep breath. This is not the final rendering, I reminded myself looking at the image once more.

It's finally over, I thought, allowing myself to relax for a few moments as I listened to the man in front of me babbling on about the contract I've read a hundred damn times already.

"So the foundation is made up of three views. Contribution. Charity meetings and meetings with other contributors. And of course, children's meetings." The man explained. "Now, you are under no obligation to go to these meetings if you don't want to, your foundation has already covered the people who will do it. But if you ever want to appear at any events, just contact this number and we will try to get you accommodated."

The man's elderly hands limply handed me the card. Of course, the card has my name and number as well as the name of the foundation I organized.

I twisted a piece of paper between my fingers, staring bitterly at the man in front of me.

"I am the organizer and creator of this foundation. If I ever wish to attend an event I would rather come without your knowledge." I said flatly, almost throwing the card at the man knowing that I could cut his throat with one swipe.

The man swallowed, adjusting his black glasses. "Yes, well-"

"I closed "Palm" five years ago without making any money. I built this foundation from dirt and water on my own without anyone's help. So tell me, why do you think I need your approval for anything?" It's nothing but a question. If he had the guts to make me feel miserable and powerless, then he should have the guts to take that shit right back.

The man licked his lips once more, adjusting his glasses. I realized it was a reflex, and he was fucking antsy. Pathetic. "Yes, I agree that closing your strip club didn't bring any profit, but you could have left it for a few more years. You might make some more money to invest in–"

"Closing my strip club was necessary for my personal reasons." I snapped, making the man in front of me flinch.

"Palm" was a fatal and fucking stupid mistake that I only realized five years ago. I haven't even been there that much and I don't even remember what it looks like anymore. It was a pain in my ass when I realized that it still existed and that I hadn't invested it in something. Even more when I remembered that I used to enjoy it there.

Now it's nothing but a stupid hole I'm willing to throw away.

The man cleared his throat before continuing. "Well, yes. If you want it to be then I could–"

"Don't ever," I leaned in resting my elbows on my knees. "Tell me what to do, especially in my and my wife's house." I gritted my teeth and clutched the glass in one hand, ready for the sliver to delve into my skin. "And if I hear you talk about the club one more time, I'll make sure you fucking rot in that coffin like your predecessors."

The man twitched and shuddered. He picked up his things and muttered quickly. "If I'm not mistaken, your wife is–"

"What? My wife is what?" I squeezed the glass in my hand. Without realizing my grip tightened, forcing the glass to crack and shatter on the floor.

"Nothing." The man uttered it rapidly. "Have a good day."

Silence fell like a desolate mist as I was left alone with my thoughts. I'm ready for this. It's time for me to sneak out of my shadow and do what I've stood for for a long time.

She would be proud, I know she would.

I ran my hand over the black crust and then the logo in the middle, feeling the shakier material. When I opened it, I allowed myself to smile a little and feel things I didn't let myself to before. My chest relaxed and I leaned back on the sofa, reading the first page.

Foundation - Little Angels
Founder - Aaron A. Stoia

-For every child without parents-

"Be humane, someone little heads wake up without a hug."

Donated - 3 000 000$

❦