SEX AND THE BOY ✓

THE CEO OF THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD

Reaching his destination, his face downturns into his signature fuckboy charm. "Hey pretty."

"Welcome to Berry Agro Corps. How can I help--oh it's just you?" utters the receptionist in a robotic manner that Leroi almost feels sorry for her but still can't help but to wonder how many times she's spoken those lines.

"Oh, you can help me in a lot of--"

A hand out of the blue pulls Leroi's collar.

A groan out of habit escapes Leroi's mouth.

"Change of plans. And don't tell me you're hitting on my employee. For God sake, Roy--"

"You can't tame the boy, mom." Leroi pats her shoulder. "He's a tiger. You can't."

The 6"5 mogul stares disapprovingly into his son, hazelly kelly orbs almost making him behave. But he only retorts with his glee painting his face in different hues.

"Anyways," Robyn drawls, scratching the widow's peak of her dark bob while throwing a briefcase to Leroi. He catches it to his chest, his grin only growing larger. "I'm taking you to the vet now to pick up Whiskey. Then maybe you can call an Uber or Onika to come pick you up."

Leroi while waving goodbye to Miriam, rolls his eyes in discontent. "Can't you just tell one of your many drivers to limo me out of this hell and home?"

If his mothers aren't so pressed on Leroi becoming a normal, suburban teenager with as much parental attention he can get and eventually a responsible adult who can handle a financially average life and two seconds without a silver spoon sticking to his tongue like a crystalline jawbreaker, he would have an armada of bouncers and escorts trailing his every footsteps. Fuck responsibility. What can't money buy?

The black Lexus that beeps upon the remote command fits perfectly to the tuxedoed mother and son as they step into it. It vrooms once before taking off to the streets.

One thing money won't allow is natural air to at least bless the human lungs, because the car is just as airconditioned and it's kinda irking Leroi out. While another crappy, overplayed Drake track plays out of the radio and Robyn yells business-ish stuff into the table phone, Leroi is busy stuffing the textbook into the heathenly stacked briefcase--Robyn insisted to be completely professional, and anyone could've guessed that includes a school bag isn't allowed to the party.

Soon, Genesis Pet and Vet World comes into view from the darkened glass of the car.

"Hello."

The Slayberrys are invited with a cataclysm of sounds. Aves, mammals, reptiles, fishes, even some amphibians fill the showroom, in a structural, organized order that shows this shop hasn't come to play, commercially and professionally. Nevertheless, your average pet place.

"Nothing impressive," comments Leroi, pulling a face while he raises the Myx Moscato to his lips, "and so freaking noisy."

Robyn rings the bell once again. Hurriedly, this time. Grandpa Richmond has always told Leroi 'time is the most invaluable resource a businessman can possess'. Maybe Robyn can take notes from her ever so extravagant father and that spending time with Leroi is pointless. Once rotten, forever rotten. Biology already said it's a chemical change. But Leroi loves the attention so yeah, no.

"Is anyone here?" Robyn calls out. She flips out her wrist to check the time. "Ugh! The service here is the worst. We'll have to switch it up next time. What I just can't stand is being stood up..."

Leroi's focus zeroes his mother out and settles on his blue, contused knuckles as he draws circles on the condensing bottle. Leroi will never forget the look on those football jocks' faces. First of all, he hates football. It's tradition for every Basket to hate all Foots in his school. Even if you won't concur, you'll find yourself despising their asses. It's just natural.