Man of the Year (Drake Story)

Chapter Seksogtyve

I looked at the clock: ten AM. Haley found him when she was trying to wake up for six, as usual. Following routine.

“Are you telling me Keziah is here because she told you to?”

“No, I’m telling you so that you know that I know you two broke up. You could’ve told me this last night, you know.”

I sighed. “We aren’t friends, Cyrus.”

“You’re right. We’re business partners. So get dressed and get over here now, because the lawyer is on his way and we need to do business.”

He hung up.

 

When leaving the hotel, I took everything with me and checked out. This was a move of optimism; I was going to Drake’s mansion with hopes of being able to stay there. I didn’t know exactly how I was going to accomplish this or if it was even the right decision to make, but for now my heart was set on it.

Chicago drove me there faster than he ever had. At first, we were taking a cool ride, sharing small talk as usual, but once I told him that my uncle had died he started running red lights in an effort to make it before another hour since his death passed.

I told him to wait, left my things in the car, and went up to the gates. They were closed again; the only other time I’d ever seen the gates closed was when I first came here. Drake only closed them to show off to me and the other newbies that day. I rang the bell, and instead of hearing a voice asking who’s there, the gates just slid open with the same deafening creakiness from before. No one came to escort me to the door. I walked there myself.

Cyrus was waiting for me. He looked sharp, wearing a suit that probably costed him no less than five-thousand dollars, shoes of the same price, and his hair slicked all the way back. He smiled when he saw me.

“You look dapper this morning,” He said.

I shrugged. “I’m only trying to catch up to you.”

“Well wipe that casual look off your face. When you walk in here, try to be as solemn as possible, alright? Everyone in here knows how much you hated your uncle before he died so they’ll be looking at you to see how you’re acting.”

I tried to look less casual, something I didn’t exactly know how to accomplish, and followed Cyrus into the house. Candles burned on every corner and old pictures of Drake that used to be coated with dust were now spotless, hanging higher on the walls than before. In the living room, the Three Musketeers, Alison, Keziah, Belphoebe, and Madeleine stood in a circle of prayer. The servants shuffled around the house, carrying towels and plates of fruit for whoever might want them as they always did, only now they were all in street clothes. Cyrus and I stood in the entryway of the living room, waiting for the prayer to finish.

Madeleine was the one to say ‘amen’, and every head raised and turned to me. They weren’t necessarily crying, but there was a piercing expression of graveness in their eyes.

“Hello,” I gave the crowd one general wave. They answered under their breath.

“I’m sorry you had to miss the prayer.” Madeleine told me.

“Oh, I’ll be doing a lot of that on my own.” I said. This was a lie.

She walked over to me cautiously, like she wasn’t certain that I was upset with her, and then engulfed me in a tight, motherly hug. I hugged her back, letting her sob into my shoulder softly. I could bet a million dollars Cyrus was rolling his eyes behind us.

“You don’t have to blame yourself, Aubrey.” Madeleine held my hands. “I know you might feel horrible for not being at peace with him before he went, but this is in no way your fault.”