Something Wonderful

1- Perfect Benji

Benji

A crisp salty breeze danced off the rolling waves carrying with it the savory smells of grilling meats. The morning sun cast a radiant glow over the growing bustle of the beaches, where laughter and chatter intertwined harmoniously. The fourth of July marked the peak of summer festivities, drawing vacationers to the local bars and restaurants, their pockets ready to spill over with generous tips. Meanwhile, the locals reveled in the promise of abundant profits, a shield against the impending stillness of winter. It was a day brimming with joy, an atmosphere shared by all—except for Benji Bianchi.

Benji begrudgingly surveyed the chaos surrounding him. Since dawn, staff swarmed the seaside mansion in preparations for the Bianchi family's grand fourth of July celebration. Every miniscule detail had to be utterly perfect, otherwise the staff would suffer the wrath of his mother, Marta. All the noise had pulled him from the comfort of his bed much earlier than he cared.

With a series of deep-set yawns, Benji could feel the weight of the day press down on him like a heavy cloak. His singular goal at that moment: to consume as much coffee as possible before he was expected to emerge as a contributing member of the family. Before he was expected to don his most dashing smile and feign a provocative confidence for their esteemed guests. But first. 

Coffee.

"Morning, sir," their newly hired maid greeted Benji as he walked into the kitchen. "Coffee is brewing, sit and I will bring it right over."

Benji acknowledged her with a brief smile and a nod before he sat at the table and unlocked his tablet to load up his work email. Technically speaking, Benji was on vacation, but with three major deals in the works there was no room for error. He clicked through his emails, giving each document its due diligence before sending his responses and moving on to the next.

The young woman placed a steaming mug beside Benji. "Just the way you like it," she chirped, a hint of pride in her voice. Benji shifted his focus from the emails to the mug. The aroma of freshly ground beans filled his senses, the tantalizing scent of roasted perfection mixed with the sweetness of cinnamon and a touch of cream. He brought the mug to his lips, taking a slow, deliberate sip. The first sip of the day.

"Aah, perfect," he sighed in bliss, momentarily unaware of the young woman lingering beside him.

"I'm glad you think so," she said, her smile radiating warmth. Benji finally looked up, noticing how she absentmindedly twirled a lock of golden hair around her finger, a soft pink coloring her complexion. "Would you like me to make you some breakfast?" she offered.

"The coffee will suffice... Uh," Benji paused, struggling to recollect the woman's name.

"Kinsley, sir," she supplied, her voice soft and understanding.

"Ah," Benji acknowledged with a nod before taking another sip. The woman hovered expectantly, waiting to be of use to the young master of the household. A shiver traced Benji's spine, the weight of being watched pressing down on him. Like an animal on display at the circus, being gawked at by the enthralled audience, waiting to see if he will succeed or fail at the next command given to him.

"That fucking piece of shit!" The kitchen door slammed open. Kinsley flinched and backed away from the table where Benji sat. Benji, grateful for the distraction, twisted his torso in time to watch his sister, Emilia rage through the kitchen like a turbulent storm. Cabinets quaked in her wake as she ferociously poured a hardy helping of cocoa puffs into a porcelain bowl. The contents of the fridge shuddered as she grabbed the milk and slammed it shut with forced emphasis. "Scumbag! Dirty, fucker!"