David Hawthorne, father to Drayden, was the coolest person Thrill knew - which was saying something because he knew a lot of cool people (including Taika Waititi, yeah). He wasn't always around, which was expected of a business magnate like him, but he always prioritized his small family of five. And the dinners with him at the head of the table were always fun - one day he would recount his meeting with some world leader, another day he would join Aria to diss about the makers of plastic crayons. Or he would be advocating for street graffiti to become an acknowledged art form with Thrill, or retelling stories of how, as a child, Drayden was once almost killed by a cat. As Thrill said - cool.
Except today, he was... the David equivalent of mad, which involved sighing in disappointment and demanding explanations from the culprit. And it was breaking Thrill's heart.
"I'm really sorry," Thrill muttered with his head downcast.
"I'm not the one you should be apologising to," came David's response.
Thrill's head snapped towards the man sitting at the head of the table. "I'm not apologising to him. He thinks his rich, straight ass is entitled to saying whatever."
"Just the way you think you're entitled to doing whatever and passing it off as a drunken mistake?" Drayden said from where he sat beside Thrill. His voice was low, his tone dry, but it felt like a knife was stabbed through Thrill's heart.
"Drayden," David scolded. His son said nothing, so he turned to Thrill. "Look. I get that you were upset about what he said, but think about it. How would you feel if someone did that to you?"
Thrill looked down at his lap again. "I'd punch the shit out of them."
"You'd feel awful," David corrected. "You'd feel violated."
Thrill gritted his teeth and made very conscious efforts to ignore the sting in his eyes. David was right, and he knew it. Of course, he knew it. It was, after all, not the first time he had messed up like this.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, wanting but failing to complete the sentence. I'm sorry I always keep disappointing you. I'm sorry I keep messing up. I'm sorry that I'm like this. I'm sorry you have to deal with me.
I'm sorry you adopted me...
"Listen, Thrill," David's voice was unfairly gentle. "I know you. I know you didn't mean to hurt him in any way. We all know that." He gestured at the group of people sitting at the table - Drayden and Thrill to his right, and his wife Emily, their daughter Aria and their Head of Security, Quinn, sitting to his left. "And we're with you, through and through. I just want you to realise that what you did was wrong."
"I do. I - I do realise it."
"That's all I want." David smiled. "Now eat up. I'm sorry I had to bring it up at the dinner table."
Thrill picked up a spoon and a fork, his head still downcast. He had no appetite left. How could he even eat this food provided by his adoptive father, the man he continued to disappoint?
Thrill was disgusted at himself. He didn't deserve any of this. He didn't deserve his name, this family, this house...
"I propose a dinner," Quinn piped in. The middle-aged woman was technically an employee to the Hawthornes, but over the years she had become a part of the family.
David nodded, asking her to go on.
"Invite the Rookwoods for dinner," Quinn continued, ignoring the look of pure horror Thrill shot her. "Apologise to what's-his-name. And David, you can talk to Odette and see if you can settle this over... you know, money, business, whatever you guys do."
"We're not doing business with the Rookwoods," Drayden said before his father could reply. Though he was just an eighteen-year-old boy, clearly nowhere near making business decisions, no one at the table reminded him that. Not even his father, who nodded at his words.
"Business deal is out of the question," David said, "but I can talk to her and see what she wants. Knowing Odette, this whole situation is more about our businesses than our sons."
Thrill felt a tightening in his chest on hearing "our sons". That's right, he told himself. I'm his son. Without quite meaning to, his eyes darted over to Drayden who was looking at his father, his back straight and a slight frown on his face. This frown had the ability to scare people shitless, but Thrill had seen it so many times over the years that it now looks adorable to him.
Thrill snapped out of his reverie and turned to David. "I don't - I don't want to put you on the spot, David."
"Too late to think about that, isn't it?" Drayden muttered.
The ache in Thrill's heart was too much to not be physical. He hated this. He hated how Drayden was being towards him.
But he knew he deserved it.
"Drayden, stop being so hard on him," David said. "And don't worry, Thrill. Things like these happen all the time. I know how to deal with them, so let me. Okay?"
Thrill hated himself. Completely and absolutely.
He nodded.
"How about tomorrow night?" Quinn asked.
David nodded and turned to his wife.
"I'm free tomorrow night," Emily said.
"Okay," Quinn muttered, typing on her phone. When she looked up from the screen, her eyes met Thrill's. She could probably see the discomfort on his face because her lips curled into a reassuring grin. "It'll be fine, hero. Don't worry. We've dealt with worse shit than this, haven't we?" She chuckled before realising her mistake. Her smile dropped, the same time as Thrill's heart nearly stopped beating.
From the corner of his eyes, Thrill saw Drayden stiffen.
Thrill felt suffocated, and he had an overwhelming urge to cry.
"Thanks." He forced a smile and got to his feet. "I'm done." He told the people at the table, keeping his gaze strictly away from Drayden.
No one said anything as he made his way out of the dining hall.
The moment he walked into his room and locked the door behind him, he let out a strangled sob. He clasped a hand over his mouth and slumped on the floor.
Thrill Hawthorne hated himself. So much that the word "hate" no longer did justice to it.
His phone ringing at that exact moment prevented him from doing something incredibly stupid. He wiped his tears, got to his feet and answered the phone.
"You wouldn't believe this!!" came an excited voice from the other end.
Thrill felt the clog in his heart loosen, ever so slightly, on hearing his best friend's voice. "What?"
"Ignatius Rookwood was checking out your IG." Caspian laughed.
"What?" Thrill said after a beat of silence.
"Yeah! He liked an old video of yours - you know, the one with Aria doing your hair?"
Thrill felt a grin make its way to his lips though he wasn't exactly sure why. "Wait. Why are you logged into my account again?"
"I was uploading a video."
"What video?"
"Eh. Just me trying out a chocolate pizza from that new place downtown."
Of course, Thrill should've seen this coming. He rolled his eyes. "Upload videos from your own account, you dimwit."
"That's no fun, you have all the followers. And I'm not a dimwit, Ignatius Rookwood is a dimwit. Someone teach him how to stalk people's accounts, please, thanks."
"Dude, he doesn't even know where to buy medicine from," Thrill laughed, "in a hospital."
Caspian laughed too. "No way, really? Wait – how do you know that?"
Fuck!
"I mean, it's weirdly specific."
"Cas, I'm getting another call," Thrill lied.
"You liar –"
"I'll call you back, bye!" Thrill hung up and laughed to himself. That was close.
He had no idea why he was keeping the day's incidents from Caspian, but he just felt like it wasn't something Ignatius would want people to know. And though Thrill understood nothing about that guy, he knew full well the dangers of gossip in this city.
He sat down on his bed and opened Instagram. He searched for Ignatius' account but came up with nothing.
Hmm. Did he... deactivate his account? Thrill couldn't help but laugh. Ignatius Rookwood was so dumb it would've been cute if he wasn't an asshole.
Thrill wasn't sure what got over him, but he went looking for Ignatius on Snapchat. He found him under "IgnatiusTheRookwood". As Thrill said - dumbass.
Thrill sent IgnatiusTheRookwood a text before he could change his mind -
hey malfoy, you alive? (it'd be awkward for our lawyers if you aren't)
anyway
i wanted to say sorry for what i did last night
i know you're not going to take back the case, which is fine or whatever. i just want you to know that i didn't mean to hurt you. and if i did - i'm sorry
PS - not all gay guys are predatory assholes, it's just me who's giving them a bad name :))
okay. whateverr. Bye!!
Thrill exited the app and let out a groan.
Good thing messages on Snapchat vanish once they are read.