"I'm...." Cameron's voice breaks when he speaks, already getting up from his seat, "I'm going to go after him."
"Please." Mr Smith implores, swallowing harshly as he watches Cameron all but sprint out of the dinning room. The oldest Smith does not spare another glance around the table as he begins to walk away quite slowly, lacking all his usual confidence. He takes about four steps, eyes heavy on his back before his knees buckle but Mr Fredrick was quickly by his side, supporting the older man with hands around his shoulders.
At feeling the hands around himself, the oldest Smith looks to Mr Fredrick, he forces on a smile before moving away from the supportive arms. He pats Mr Fredrick on the shoulder as if to say he would be fine before continuing to walk away on his own, feet still unsteady but he managed not to stagger again.
Mr Fredrick watches him go with concern written all over his face. When he turns back around to the table, everyone else who had been watching the oldest Smith leave promptly looks away, focusing on whatever else they could.
.
Once again, Byron had shut himself in his car to try and get himself calm but it didn't seem to be working, the tears never stopping and his chest continues to heave violently on intervals. He considers turning the engine on and just driving out and away, but he figured he was in no state to drive.
Suddenly, the passenger's side of the car pulls open and Byron, without looking at who it was, thinking it to be Mr Charles, hurriedly wipes at his face, sniffling as he did. He looks up to see the last person he would have expected. Cameron's lips were parted in surprise as he takes in the state of his younger brother, he was looking too hard and for too long and Byron understandably grows both uncomfortable and self conscious. He wipes at his face again, voice sounding hoarse as he says, "This is not your car." Byron sounded so resigned and so unlike himself and Cameron feels his own eyes sting.
"I know." He replies, swallowing.
“What are you doing in here then?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” Cameron was struggling to find his words, he'd followed after Byron without even thinking of the fact that they'd never actually sat together to have a conversation in years, on top of that, Byron had just poured out his years of pent up rage and frustration. Cameron has never been one for words, preferring to use his words only when necessary but everything Byron had just said had sat so heavily in his chest, he could see it all now, he understood. But, how does one even go about admitting your fault and baring your own thoughts to your little brother who you had spent years secretly looking after, hoping he comes around one day. This was what Cameron gets for being so closed off and unreachable, he suddenly hated growing up so distant and unable to decipher or interprete matter that didn't have to do with proposals and charts and presentations.
A loud scoff draws Cameron out of his reverie, "If you don't get out right now, I'm going to drive this car right over a bridge!" Byron says, glaring at his brother but the teary eyes and red tipped nose really did not work to make him as threatening as he would like to be.
"Sure. Let's go then." Cameron replies without giving it much thought.
Byron's frown deepens, "Did you not hear me? I said I-"
"Will drive this car over a bridge," Cameron completes his words, relaxing into his seat, "I heard you. I said I don't mind. We can both just say 'fuck it' and end it all tonight. Thankfully, Dad still has Midas..... Who's gay, so our bloodline probably would end here, but then again people adopt and surrogacy is a pretty neat concept too, so I think we're good. Hit it." Cameron recites as if he was reading the morning papers and not urging his brother to drive them over a bridge.
Byron's jaw falls open. He scoffs, but it sounds more like a poor attempt at hiding a smile. "You suck." He comments at last and Cameron huffs under his breath, looking at Byron who had started the car and was beginning to drive them out of the compound.
.
"So, no bridge?" Cameron asks, looking around the clubhouse that Byron had parked at and then hurriedly walked into in hopes of shaking Cameron off but the older just followed him in stubbornly.
Cameron cringes when his eyes falls on the dancefloor below them, men and women grinding against each other so lewdly one could've just chalked it up to them having sex right there and the ones that weren't dancing had tongues down the other's throats and there were some smoking, resting against the walls.
"You're not funny." Byron says, "And I didn't force you to come." He takes another swig of his drink as he finished.
Cameron's features were twisted into a grimace as he watches the alcohol go down the younger's throat, he looks up at Byron when he drops the bottle, still not saying a word.
"What?" Byron snaps having had enough of being stared at, even though his brother's eyes no longer carried that look of pity, he felt even more uncomfortable now that he could see a sliver of what looked like worry in them, concern.
"Do you want to hit me?"
"What?" Byron repeats, confused and frowning at the strange question.
"You can, if it'll make you feel better. There's so much I want to say right now but I can not seem to find the right words no matter how much I try. You're right, and I'm not going to make up excuses and say I was young or anything, I am just like Dad. I am rash, I never wait to listen before speaking and I did grow up believing I couldn't do anything wrong, I had to get it right no matter what it was. I'm not saying this to sound like even more of an asshole than you already know me to be or to justify my actions, no. As the first son, he expected a lot from me, right from the moment I was born, the pressure has always been there and I succumbed, I couldn't handle the thought of failing because that would be letting him down after all he's shown to me, taught to me, bragged about me. I knew just how much he'd put into me so I....." Cameron sucks in a breath, drumming his fingers against the table before continuing.
"So I continued to push for that excellence no matter what. Wanting to give back just as much as I've gotten from Dad, I put my all into it, so much so that I let everything else fade into the background. I let it become who I was, I... I couldn't understand it if it wasn't a paper or file in need of reviewing or my signature, I hurt you in the process and pushed Midas away and I think I'm realizing it all too late now and it looks like I'm on the verge of losing everything, losing my family, the one I thought I would be giving back to by putting my all in...."
Byron's lips part in surprise when a tear falls from Cameron's eyes, his ever calm and collected older brother was crying in the club -literally.
"I just watched it all happen and even added to it from my end but now I realize I should've done better. It was painful to watch you both grow farther and farther away from me but I convinced myself it was out of my hands because.... Because I was afraid admit to myself that I needed my family. I hurt you and I hurt Midas, we used to be inseparable back then and now I'm just another suited up stranger to him. I can't believe I let it get this bad, why did I let it become this bad, Byron. What happened to us?"
Byron is unaware of the exact moment but he must've been crying for a while again watching Cameron because when he touches his face, his cheeks were wet again and his sight was blurry as he watches Cameron hunch over the table, crying.
“I’m sorry, Byron.” it comes out in broken sobs as he drags in a breath that sounded more like snot, "I'm so sorry little bro. I just thought, I thought I was helping by pushing you alongside Dad, I had no idea, I just....... I wondered why you began going to bed earlier whenever I wanted to call you over to play with the car, I thought you were still upset that you didn't get yours so I just stopped trying. I'm sorry, I should've done better. I should've tried harder, I'm so sorry....." Cameron is full on bawling now and his words get muffled as he buries his face in his palms, shoulders shaking.
Byron is not any better, both brothers crying into their hands in Byron's usual VIP table at the club. Even their shoulders align in movement at a point. It turned out the Smith brothers even cried the same, who would've thought.
YOU ARE READING
THE SMITHS
Romance"What about me? Our family has never been one centered on love, Dad. We've always had to be faced with countless difficulties in this house, and now it's going to be my choice of a partner? Even my brothers never had this issue even though they pick...
