If fate means you to lose, give him a good fight anyhow.
~William McFee
∞ ᴪ ∞
Chapter 4 —Help!
I squinted against the dim light just to have a good look at him, glare at him if possible and prove to them (and more importantly to myself) that I was not even in a teensy weensy way scared of them.
The car halted after half an hour or so but no one in car spoke to break the deafening silence that seemed to linger for a while. The driver was a stranger to me. I could definitely tell that he was a tall man with medium built and a pale complexion. Although, I would not say that with his cropped dark hair and clear blue mesmerizing eyes that he was in any way unattractive.
Judging by the laugh lines on his strong face, he must be in his late thirties or early forties. Somehow, there was something familiar about him though I could not point my finger on it.
Leonard Dunn kept his eyes straight on the road, shifting occasionally on the front seat. He dared not to even get a glimpse of me being restrained constantly by Gerald. As if I could actually jump right off the car while it’s moving! A fuse of hatred towards Leon or Leonard—whoever the hell he really was— lit inside me. It was not like I wanted to be there when they were having their argument that night! In fact I shouldn’t be in detention at all. No thanks to him. And now he abducted me and what next? Kill me and stuff my body somewhere far, far away?
The car pulled over in front of a secluded building about twenty minute drive from home. I cursed at myself silently. I had been so engrossed with loathing these people who kidnapped me that I hadn’t bothered to look where they took me!
The building was relatively new, painted with a very light hue of chrome yellow with dark brown embellishments and window panes. There was a small carved wood sign board at the side of the door that read Chateau Le Fleur.
The tall driver parked the car near a drive-through-like slot near the entrance where a man in maroon uniform greeted from the window and handed the driver a small plastic card. “Here it is my good sir! Just as you requested,” the man in uniform said.
The driver nodded and maneuvered the car into a dim parking lot. Several other cars were lined in such a small area. I didn’t need to be a car expert to notice that most, if not all of those were luxury vehicles.
Gerald came out first and dragged me along with him. I should’ve called for help, knowing that we must be in a public place but something urged me not to. An elevator nearby opened.
Moira emerged muttering “Oh dear, oh dear,” under her breath, half-ran to me, her stiletto tapping loudly against the ebony-tiled floor. She led me gently all the way to the elevator, glancing remorsefully at the boys who were treading behind us silently.
“I didn’t believe it when you blokes planned this. Now you’ve done it and I still couldn’t impel myself to believe that this is happening!” She appeared rather scared and ashamed for the boys’ work.
The elevator music was surprisingly Leon’s song “Be Mine” and I suppressed the sudden urge to cackle like mad at the irony of it. He must have notice me tapping the tip of my shoe on the carpeted floor to keep myself from laughing and with that I thought I saw him blush behind his thick wide glasses. I didn’t know what came over me but I nodded my head gently to the beat of the song and tried to hum the melody (which I found amusing since I only heard it like a couple of times) just to annoy him.
Moira muttered under her breath as we went through the floors and kept on it until the elevator reached the penthouse. The elevator finally opened and she led me again, putting a gentle arm on my shoulder to the last door at the end of the incandescent corridor.
“Arthur, won’t you open it?” Moira glared at him when she saw the man with the dark hair spacing out.
Arthur reproduced the plastic key card and opened the door. A carpeted flight of stairs stretched before us. As we reached the top, I smelled something cooking in the oven. The penthouse’s interiors were mostly made of fine-looking dark wood. Golden lamps and paintings of gardens and still life hung everywhere. The red velvet couches were lined with frames of thick wrought bronze, a marble table centering the room. Moira seated me in front of the fireplace that looked like granite with angel-like creatures carved on it.
The two adult men sat in front of me, face hardened, apprehension rising. Leon just stood in a corner, arms crossed in front of him, gazing blankly at the floor as if examining it. Moira went straight ahead to the kitchen giving the boys a fix this look as she did.
“So… What are we supposed to talk about?” I grunted dryly when I decided to finally break the silence that occupied the room for a couple of minutes.
Arthur cleared his throat. “It’s about Leon,” he said rather nervously, then nudged Gerald who seemed to have been woken from his deep thoughts.
“Since we know you know about Leon’s true identity, we are ready to bargain for your silence,” Gerald replied straightforwardly folding his hands under his chin.
“I don’t want anything from you people! I’ve told him that! Why don’t you ask him?” I retorted, feeling awkward about mentioning Leon’s name.
The men exchanged looks then stared at Leon who shuffled uneasily where he was standing. Gerald looked surprised but skeptical at the same time. “Then why were you spying on us that evening?”
I sighed exasperatedly. “For the nth time, I was not spying. I was merely there because your precious little celebrity got me a golden ticket straight to detention. And I don’t care who he really is. All I know right now is that really hate him.” My temper flared. Once I get angry, I can’t stop my mouth from blabbering and broadcasting anything and everything that is in my mind, which is utterly and exceptionally stupid.
“Well, I tried to shut her up with some concert tickets, but she’s a hard one,” Leon said in a matter-of-fact tone.
His words just added more firewood to my beacon. My temples started to throb but instead of hurling a figurine at him, I drew a deep breath and counted to ten inside my head. But before I reached six he spoke again.
“If this comes to worst case scenario, we could always consider stuffing her inside a bowling bag and throw her into a lake or something,” he said thoughtfully rather than with arrogance.
Leon puzzles and infuriates me at the same time. I didn’t know if he was naturally conceited or simply congenitally dense. Either which way, I figured that it must be a trend for child stars to somehow be deluded to some extent. With that thought, my anger which boiled menacingly reduced to sympathy.
“So, you did not have any intention of divulging who he really is?” Arthur replied hesitantly.
I nodded firmly.
“Are you sure you don’t want those tickets? They’re front row,” he smiled convincingly.
“Yes, I am positive.” Arthur seemed like a perfectly reasonable man to me but with Gerald, I wasn’t entirely sure. “Now can I go home?” I demanded calmly.
Gerald did not seem convinced. “Perhaps. But I got my eye on you,” he warned.
“Come on Ger,” Arthur patted him on the shoulder. “She’s just a kid.”
I’ve had a few threats conjured inside my mind as well but I dared not speak of it.
“Can I go home?” I said dryly.
“Not after dinner, you can’t.” Moira dragged me to the kitchen and beckoned the guys to come along or else…
I did not stay to find out and helped myself to a plate of baked potatoes and roast pork ribs. When we’re done, Arthur threw the car keys to Leon, who replied with a puzzled look.
“You wouldn’t let the young lady walk all the way back, would you?” Arthur smiled.
Young lady. I think I blushed on that note. Ugh.
Moira grunted with disapproval but her thoughts did not materialize.
“What? It’s a small town. What could possibly go wrong?” said Arthur, tousling Leon’s dark hair.
Leon grinned widely revealing a perfect set of ivory white teeth. “Thanks Dad!” He jiggled the keys on his fingers like a little boy with a new toy.
So pop stars do have parents! I thought sarcastically. And that was why he seemed familiar. Leon must have gotten his looks from his side of the family.
“Do you even have a license?” I said rather worried.
“I’m old enough.” He beamed excitedly.
We rounded through the parking lot in silence until he spotted a sleek black sports car, with a silky matte finish. I wouldn’t have to be a car enthusiast to know that it looked expensive.
When he practically hauled himself inside the cab of the car, he sat there for a few moments, holding the steering wheel as if admiring it. Now I know why he was all giddy about driving me home. It was the driving part. Seriously! I could never understand boys and their relationship with cars.
He started the engine, revved it then drove smoothly to the street. Again, silence was upon us for ten minutes or so. It was on my favor since it has been my theory that every time Leon opens his mouth, my rage meter goes up a notch, plus I couldn’t think of anything to say without feeling and appearing awkward in front of him.
All the while we both fixed our eyes forward, sensing the uncomfortable atmosphere, scrutinizing each other’s move or was it just me and my imagination? Possibly, I have been egotistical all the while assuming that he suffered my company the way and vice versa.
I began to remind myself yet again who I am—that I am but an unremarkable kind. The world had never revolved around me and it never will. Perhaps, it was for the best. I despised attention, especially the awful feeling of being studied.
“You’ve been here a while, I reckon,” Leon finally broke the silence, his gaze still glued on the wet slick road.
I could not help but feel surprised at his first attempt to open a small talk. “Since birth,” I replied dryly.
He appeared to be in deep thought for a while. “I can’t remember my home town anymore.” A sense of nostalgia gripped his features. “We kept on moving since I was five.”
The gap between my eyebrows furrowed. As if it wasn’t strange enough that he actually started a conversation with me. Now he’s giving me an autobiography!
“Moving from town to town… then to the city,” he continued. “It was getting lonelier every time I make new friends… but had to leave them. This is even the first normal school I’ve enrolled in, can you believe it?” There was a spark in his ocean blue eyes.
I was at a loss for words. I opened my mouth but nothing seemed to form from my lips and instead gave him something between a nod and a shrug. I was never good at this sort of small pleasantries but I felt awkward and mostly guilty for no concrete explanation.
Leon shifted his gaze back on the road, face hardened, both hands tightening on the steering wheel. Perhaps, he assumed I was excessively indifferent to be concerned or to even just pretend to. I felt like the selfish, insensitive idiot that I was—far too concerned with my grievances and my own emotions.
After what felt like a several minutes, I looked at him hesitantly. “Sh-should we talk in class?” I started. “I mean… we could just ignore each other… that is, i-if you want to,” I stuttered unable to avert my eyes from him for some reason unknown to me. But he kept his eyes on the road and kept his thoughts to himself with an exasperated air about him.
“O-okay… I get it,” I said almost a whisper as if choking. The whole time I stared blankly at the window, a whir of green and gray passing through my eyes until we arrived to a street having a row of identical houses and the lush gardens in front despite the melting snow, most with a couple or more variety of trees. I was home.
The car came to a halt but not gently that my head almost banged on the windshield. So I said my hurried thanks and got out without so much as a glance to Leon Walden. He didn’t bother to see me off and drove away in haste. I felt stupid yet again, being left alone to think poorly of my social competence.
“It’s late. Where on earth have you been?” Mom interrogated me when I came in.
I sighed heavily. “I had to go to Becky’s for our homework.” I lied. I knew I wasn’t good at it but I tried my very best to avoid further confrontation.
My mom and I live in a two-story house. It wasn’t anything grand but I consider it home. The truth is, it was far too big for just the two of us and I liked it. That way mom and I wouldn’t have to see each other all the time. Mom and I don’t exactly see eye to eye. We don’t agree about pretty much everything, but she’s the only family I have. Beggars can’t be choosers.
“There’s spaghetti and meat balls in the fridge. Heat it up.”
“I’m not hungry,”
She continued muttering under her breath which gradually faded until I reached my room, shut the door close and hopped in the tub of warm water. I made up my mind to write everything that happened these last few days in my diary which I forgot to update for a week now.
Today I met someone interesting. Interesting in a way I couldn’t easily define.
I started to write then ended with this—perhaps I was being biased. But today I saw a side of him I hadn’t expected. Before I knew it, I was smiling as I looked out the window, at the waning moon and the flickering stars.
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