Lost With You

Chapter One

As my consciousness began to emerge from deep within the darkness that blinded me during my siesta, it slowly dawned on me that there was no longer a weight pressing against the upper part of my face. My arm which was once shielding my eyes from the scintillating light from the sun had slid off back to my side.
    Without needing to open my eyes, I could already imagine the unforgettable brightness from the humongous star visible only during the day, awaiting me behind my closed eyelids.
    I carefully opened my eyes, already feeling the overpowering shine through my squinted eyes which kept them partially closed until I faced away from the colorless, transparent window.
    Why did the sun have to be facing this way? I thought as I let out a groan of discomfort.
    Feeling totally awake now from losing a quick staring contest with the blazing and vivid sphere in the sky, I finally noticed the silence and stillness of the car. I looked over to the window next to the other end of the seat and saw other vehicles passing by us.
    The car was parked at the side of the wide road which prevented the obstruction of moving automobiles. I also realized that Dad wasn't in the driver's seat.
    Judging by the heat and light intensity of the sun, the day was still going and it didn't seem like it would be over any time soon. I probably didn't take that long of a nap. Despite the brief duration of my nap, I already felt ten times better after getting some comfortable shuteye, ironically in the backseat of Dad's car, which was not the most cozy place to sleep in.
    Placing my flat hand horizontally above my eyes to create a shelter from the shine, I peered out from the window to see Dad on the phone. He seemed somewhat stressed out and almost embarrassed, as if he was ashamed of discussing with someone about something which was not negotiable. And now, I could see that he was playfully upset at the speaker on the line. I could hear his muffled voice but I was unable to make out what the conversation was about.
    I let out a sigh and closed my eyes again, leaning against the door as my cheek laid against the window. He seemed to be taking a long time with whoever he was talking to, and frankly, it really looked like he enjoyed the conversation he was having.
    It might seem to others that he was dealing with a difficult client of some sort who wouldn't cooperate with him due to the distressed look on his face, but his expression was not at all forced. He wasn't frustrated at all. If I had to describe it, it was like a face made by someone who was teased by their friends.
    If Dad continued flirting with the caller, I might just sink myself back into the depths of insensibility. However, before I could completely drown my consciousness in the endless abyss of blackness, the door opened and Dad was back in the driver's seat, heaving a sigh of relief.
    "Took you long enough," I mumbled, receiving a small glare from Dad once he shifted to look at me. The glare immediately evaporated, however, and out came another sigh accompanied by a surprisingly soft smile.
    "Had a good nap?"
    I nodded. "First time in months now, yeah."
    Silence filled the air in a mere instant. I bit my lip, regretting what I said. Maybe I shouldn't have brought it up, even if it was indirect. It was a sensitive subject, not to me, but to Dad.
    I felt remorseful now since it was as if I was blaming him for making the wrong choice and getting us into such a bad situation. I didn't intend to make it sound harsh or anything, I honestly thought it was funny as a small joke. I thought that it would lighten up his mood and get him to laugh, at least a small one. But all I got back was an unwelcoming, awkward ambience that stayed amid the air.
    Dad wasn't facing me anymore. He was looking at the front, and from the side, I could see that his smile had vanished. Just when I thought I could see him finally smile today. I ruined it.
    Darn it, I mentally cursed. Great job, Jere. Such a dick move, you ass.
    I bit my lip, contemplating on whether I should apologize. Despite my quick decision, I was still unable to get a word out before Dad could.
    "I'm sorry, Jeremy."
    The unexpected words that escaped from his mouth shocked me and further raised the level of guilt I hid within me.
    No . . . I thought as a slight frown made its way onto my face. I was the one who was supposed to say sorry, goddammit.
    I didn't want Dad to think that he should solely be liable for getting us in such a situation. Sure, he didn't trust me when I told him that there was someone better for him, but I didn't want him to think that everything that's happened all came down to what he thought was his lack of responsibility.
    "No, wait—" Before I could even say what I planned on saying, Dad cut me off.
    "It's my fault, Jeremy," he sighed, laying his head against the headrest. "I should've listened to you."
    At this point, I really didn't think I would be able to cheer him up. I didn't want to continue the topic any longer as I knew that he would only put the blame on himself, and I didn't want that. It was disheartening, as his son, to see a sight so painfully rare for all the wrong reasons. However, a part of me still wanted to try and bring up his mood as much as I could. I was desperate to see at least a pinch of happiness, or anything other than sadness, on Dad's face.
    "Look, Dad, in the end, you broke it off with her," I stated in a firm tone, as if I was actually the older one between us. "And we're still okay up till now, see? There's no clown in a pitiful black dress trying to chase us down the road."
    Dad faintly chuckled at the humor of my insult targeted toward Ms. Harrison. My shoulders dropped as ease overcame some of my worries. A small smile crawled its way to my lips, genuinely contented to hear what was considered to be music to my ears then.
    "You're right," Dad finally smiled once again. However, I wasn't pleased as it didn't seem to change how he felt at the moment. His smile was gone in a mere second and his lips now formed a thin line. I was clueless as to what I could say and just nodded.
    Remembering about the many questions I had for him once he was done with his call, I thought it would be best to ask him as a way to change the uncomfortable atmosphere. "Oh, who were you talking to on the phone, by the way?"
    "My colleague, actually." Dad rolled his eyes which confused me. Maybe it was someone he wasn't fond of after all? I thought. He then continued promptly. "It was the first time I actually called him. His excitement and his inappropriate jokes and teasing were pissing me off."
    Dad let out a titter, most likely from remembering what his colleague had said to him in the call. "Ah, that reminds me . . . It's a good thing I actually forgot my work bag for once."
    Though it didn't catch my attention before, I noticed a dark gray, rectangular bag occupying the front passenger seat. Despite having a few different work bags, Dad always carried this bag to work, and due to being tired after finishing his work yesterday, he ended up forgetting about his bag and leaving it in the car.
    Yesterday was definitely a good day to be forgetful. Dad would probably get into a lot of trouble if he'd left his work documents at home—well, at that woman's home—along with his laptop and valuables.
    "Tell me about it," I let out a suppressed giggle. "Why did you call your colleague anyway?"
    "It's embarrassing, but this colleague of mine, which I'm actually grateful for for once, is going to help us."
    The state of bewilderment I was in caused an eyebrow to raise. I couldn't quite grasp the idea of having my dad's colleague helping us when we had relatives to turn to if we really needed any assistance. For Dad to turn to a colleague—well, seemingly a friend, to aid us, he must have had an excellent relationship with this person. It would be odd to just turn to a regular colleague for any help outside of work so I doubted this was just a colleague in Dad's eyes. Secondly, it didn't seem quite right for an independent man like him to request others for guidance before thoroughly considering alternative solutions.
    What help do we possibly need? I wondered as I subconsciously brought my loosely clenched fist to my face, my index and thumb softly pressed against my lips. That was when I decided to ask Dad instead of making up unrealistic assumptions.
    "Wait," I paused. "You mean, like, with where we're gonna stay for now and all that?"
    Dad nodded wordlessly and started the engine before pulling us back onto the main road once the vehicles were out of the way. I looked out and finally understood why the surroundings were so familiar. This was the direction to his workplace. I knew since I'd been there once years ago when he'd started working there.
    I couldn't help keeping my mind distracted with many questions I had for Dad as I refused to believe that our current issue was that bad to the point Dad had to ask someone for help. We didn't have much that was considered of valuable possession to us to begin with.
    Dad had always kept his money for three to four months before depositing an exact amount in the bank, depending on how much he had in hand. However, after his interaction with Ms. Harrison, he would find himself steadily losing money and extracting more from the bank whenever Ms. Harrison wanted him to get something ridiculously costly for her.
    Funny enough, Ms. Harrison was actually wealthier than Dad but refused to get whatever she wanted with her own money. Heck, she probably had never spent a single dime on Dad before. This only made me believe that she was just making use of Dad's politeness for selfish gains. Just thinking about her existence irked me to know that such a self-centered woman could exist, living her best life without a drop of guilt for all the pain she had caused, not only to Dad, but possibly other men she had dated before too. She had always managed to persuade Dad that money wasn't a problem for them both. Because of that, whenever Ms. Harrison wanted something, Dad, being the gentleman he was, would get it without a second thought.
    Dad wasn't only courteous and hardworking, but he was smart too. No matter how much money he had wasted on that vile person, he would always make sure he had spare cash as backup. To summarize, it makes the thought of being very financially unstable unlikely.
    "We're able to rent a place, right?" I questioned. "Is it far from your workplace?"
    "Yes, there doesn't seem to be any place to rent near my workplace," Dad stated emotionlessly. "Anyway, my colleague already said it was okay to stay at his place so it'll be okay."
    Well, if his workmate was really okay with it, I guess there isn't much else to think of. Besides, it would be quite the experience.
    I tilted my body to the window where the sun was absent and admired the simple scenery of tall, sparkling, glass buildings among other structures.
    "They must be a really trustworthy partner of yours, huh?" I mumbled to myself, lost in the plain beauty of the city.
    "You could say that," Dad replied unexpectedly. "I've known him for a very long time now."
    I hummed back in response as I began to lose myself in my own thoughts, already bored of the repeating view. A funny concept quickly appeared in my head as an amusing smile began to stretch across my face. "Pfft, it sounds like you're basically temporarily getting married to this colleague of yours."
    Dad abruptly stomped on the break which caused me to let out a yelp after almost landing my face into the back of the headrest of the front seat. Apparently, my question caught Dad off guard, causing him to step on the break almost way too late, but the car stopped before it could bump into the red vehicle that was in front of us, waiting for the red light to turn green as a signal to allow the vehicles to go.
    He turned his head back to glare at me. "Jeremy Carson! What on earth are you even thinking about!"
    "I mean, if you think about it, Dad—"
    "No, I don't want to—"
    A loud honk screamed from behind and Dad instantly turned back to face the road as he began to drive not without inaudibly grumbling beneath his breath. I didn't know if I should feel sorry or feel smug. I knew that I should be ashamed of myself for almost getting Dad into an accident and also grabbing his attention at such a dangerous time, but a smirk was tugging at my lips.
    From the rear view mirror, Dad's narrowed eyes met my own which glimmered with nothing but complacency. "Get that cheeky grin off your face, you imbecile."
    I puffed my cheeks out to pout at him like a kid who couldn't get a toy he wanted. Ouch, I thought as I folded my arms playfully and acted as if I was upset. Well, I kind of deserved it since I did almost get us into what could have been a horrendous scene if it happened. Just imagining it made a shiver crawl down my spine.
    Dad took a swift glance at my reaction through the rearview mirror and shook his head disapprovingly, most probably wondering what sort of son he had raised. He then parked his car outside the edifice which stood so high it would almost be comparable to a skyscraper. It might sound stupid since it was probably way shorter than a skyscraper but just looking at it from the ground made it even bigger than it should be.
    At where we planted ourselves at the carpark was a clean concrete pathway leading to a short marble staircase to the entrance guarded by a pair of glass doors. It seemed that people would need a card to get past as a form of high tech security, demonstrated by a formally dressed man in a suit who pulled open the glass door to the right.
    Through the transparent opening, I could see plants planted into the unseeable soil which was covered and loaded into what seemed like expensive, smooth, black rectangular vases. I tried to move to inspect more of what was on the ground floor of the building but I could barely see anything else from where I stood. I childishly sulked, causing Dad to lift a brow at what was considered strange behavior for my age.
    "Jeremy, what are you doing?" he asked, utterly confused at the unusual sight.
    "Trying to take a look at what's inside?" I stated, sounding as if I was questioning him why he was even asking such an obvious question.
    "You've been here before."
    "Well, some things changed!"
    Dad rolled his eyes and shot a glimpse at his phone after it gave out two quick vibrates, signaling him that there were notifications for him to check. "They'll be coming out soon."
    Now it was my turn to be muddled. Did that mean that his colleague wasn't the only one we were meeting? Just how many colleagues did Dad seek help from?
    It's definitely got to be one, I reassured myself. It was already shocking enough that Dad's pride would even allow him to make a phone call to a colleague, let alone two.
    "There they come," Dad finally said as he waved with a small smile.
    I looked back at the door and there were two people coming out; one man and one teenage boy. I assumed that the man was Dad's colleague and I highly doubted that the boy was anyone else but the man's own son, even though they looked dissimilar.
    "Finally! You were the one who called me instead this time!" the man gave a conceited smile.
    Dad groaned, eyes falling to the ground to hide his embarrassment. "Stop bringing that up."
    Dad decided not to let his colleague's provocative comments get to him as he peered back at him shortly after and changed the topic to stop the man from teasing him again. "I see you've brought your son to work."
   "What?" the adult male chuckled. "You know we're both off on the weekends, Tyler. I had to grab some documents and since it's not against the rules, Jonathan decided to follow me."
    Dad simply shrugged. "You could have been working overtime for all I know."
    The two men continued to converse with one another about work, along with other things concerning how we could all go about this. While their attention was diverted, the boy, Jonathan, slowly approached me with a grin on his good-looking face, curly, dark brown hair moving along with the direction of the wind.
    "Jeremy, right? Pleasure to meet you. I'm Jonathan, as you know," he laughed softly and joked. "We'll be temporary step-brothers from now on."

    A broad smile itched at my lips as I stifled a laugh at the imaginary concept of both our dads getting married. I wondered if Jonathan coincidentally had the same idea or if I was just getting my own hopes up from assuming. Perhaps he had something else in mind and it was just an innocent remark that didn't hint anything, but my gut feeling told me otherwise.