Wasted times I spent with someone else
She wasn't even half of you
Reminiscin' how you felt
And even though you put my life through hell
I can't seem to forget 'bout you, 'bout you
I want you to myself
Song: Wasted Times, by The Weeknd
***
FLASHBACK
2010
Narrator's P.O.V.:
Moving back to the UK was the last thing Harry wanted. He was just finishing high school, all of his friends lived in New York, the unis he applied for, and, most important of all, she was there. Going away from America also meant leaving Aster behind right after finally having the guts to kiss her, it felt like some kind of twisted cosmic joke, like the Universe was laughing at him for having such bad timing.
Being completely honest, Harry didn't even understand why the sudden move, his parents' divorce was so out of the blue, one day they were a happy family and the other, Anne couldn't even look Desmond in the eyes. What frustrated Harry the most was the fact neither his mom nor dad would tell him what actually happened between them. He was beyond pissed, being forced to move to another continent without even knowing why.
He suspected of cheating, probably his father's, but even that sounded nonsense. Desmond was crazy about Anne, always have been, everyone knew that. So why the fuck would he cheat on her?
On the other hand, what else could've ended a 30 years marriage so out of the blue like that? To the point his mother felt the need to cross the ocean and be as far from Desmond as possible? She wouldn't even let Des visit them in the UK, it didn't sound fair. She didn't give Harry a choice either - there was no other option. When he brought the possibility of staying in America with his father, she was adamant about it, saying he could go back when he was 18 if that's what he wanted, but while he was still 17, he would have to go with her.
So he went. It was only after they were both settled in their new house, back to their home country, that Anne decided to tell Harry the shocking truth. He remembers that day vividly, burned into his memories like words set on stone.
He had just finished typing a huge ass email for Aster, confessing his feelings for her, cowardly hiding behind his laptop screen to say what he should've said when they were in his father's car. He knew the timing was shit and confessing it for her while living in another country was his own wussy way of not giving her the opportunity to tell him off face to face. He was so terrified with the idea of Aster thinking he was a freak that he reveled on the fact he could just hide in the UK and pretend it never happened, in the possibility of her blowing him off.
But he never had the opportunity of hitting send.
When his mom entered the room, puffed eyes, red nose and cheeks stained with tears, he knew something terrible happened. He jumped from his chair, leaving the laptop and running to her, asking what was wrong.
And then, she told him.
His father was not who they believed him to be. S&L was not simply a pharmaceutical industry - it was the lead supplier of illegal hallucinogenic drugs in America. Along with Phillip De Loutherbergh, Desmond was the lead dealer of the US and a great part of his fortune came from that. He managed to keep it hidden during all those years, but she ended up finding it all out one night when her laptop bugged and she used Desmond's to search for a few references for the redecorating she was planning for their house.
Harry was in shock. Not even in his wildest dreams, he would imagine his father doing something like that. Desmond was so kind and loving, always smiling and helping people out. His mother was wrong, there was no way she was telling him the truth. Being honest, he wouldn't be so surprised if it was just Phillip De Loutherbergh doing that - the guy was creepy as fuck. But having his father along with it? Not possible.
But when he called his father and demanded the truth, he learned that his mother was, indeed, right.
He has never been so disappointed in his life.
"Does Aster know?" He asked his mother, tears falling from his eyes, heart constricted in his chest. The possibility of Bunny knowing about it and never telling him was almost too hurtful to bear.
Relief washed him over when his mom confirmed Aster had no idea and that Phillip was adamant about her never finding out.
At least they agreed on that point.
Aster should never know, the news would destroy her. She was such a sweet girl, who has been through so much at an early age, losing her sister, losing her mother. She didn't deserve to have one more letdown on her life, especially something that big. All she had was her father, he was the only family she had left, and Harry knew she couldn't handle knowing she was being lied to during all her life.
But knowing that put him an impossibly hard position. He didn't want her to know with the same intensity he simply couldn't lie to her. The possibility of talking to Aster, hearing her rambling about how much she wanted to go to college and graduate so she could finally start working at their parents' company, knowing she would most likely never work there - after all, how would Phillip keep hiding the truth having her so close? Harry had no idea what Phillip planned to do, but one thing he knew for sure.
Aster would never fulfill her dreams.
It was too much for him. To know that and never be able to talk to her about it. To watch her heart being broken when she finally learned she would never work at S&L, or even worse if somehow Phillip managed to have her working there with the whole operation running right under her nose, but keeping her at bay.
He couldn't handle that. He couldn't watch it happen.
So when he came back to his room, instead of pressing send on his confession, he pressed the tiny trash button. He deleted it and buried his feelings deep down along with it. He hated it, but it was the only possible decision - never talking to Aster again. Maybe if he didn't talk to her, he wouldn't feel like he was part of such a terrible lie.
The possibility of going to the police never crossed his mind, because that also meant losing his father. As angry and disappointed as he was, he couldn't risk it. He loved his father too much to take away his freedom.
But he could take away his family.
For the 2 years Harry wouldn't answer the phone when Desmond called. He didn't answer any of his father's emails or texts and refused to see him when he came to visit. Desmond was heartbroken, but after trying for months, he decided to leave his son alone, to give him enough time to heal.
It was Desmond's best interest to let Harry heal. After all, he would need him soon.
2013
"Are you sure?"
Harry nodded, trying to tranquilize his worried mother with a soft smile that didn't reach his eyes. "It's been almost 3 years, mum, I think its time to hear what he has to say."
Anne pressed her lips to a thin line. She wasn't the least excited about Harry meeting up with Desmond again. Even though she knew it was a good thing for him to reconnect with his father, she was too afraid of what could've happened in the encounter.
Although she didn't tell Harry, she knew why Desmond was coming to the UK. He had been trying to contact Harry for years now but was unsuccessful. However, the time was coming - Harry was about to turn 20, and Desmond wanted him to join S&L at 21. And what terrified Anne the most was the notion that her son wouldn't be just leading the legal activities of the industry. All she could ever do was to pray Harry would deny it, as she expected him to. She tried really hard to show him every reason why he should never mess with illegal stuff, tried to teach him her morals, her motives to leave Desmond.
Watching her son putting on a jacket and grabbing his car keys, ready to go meet the dad he didn't see for almost 3 years, broke her heart. Especially because she didn't know what to expect when he came back - would he even be the person she always expected him to be?
Harry, on the other hand, had mixed feelings about going to meet his father after so much time. There was a hole in the pit of his stomach, an antsy sensation that was eating him alive ever since he received the email with the invitation. His father wanted to meet and said it was important - to tell the truth, it wasn't the first time he would send something like that, but it got Harry on a weak moment. He had been thinking about contacting his father for a while now - he wanted to understand why.
Besides, there was one thing about it all that made Harry feel quite uneasy - even though his mom left Desmond after finding out about the drugs, she still got her half of everything after they split up, which sounded a bit hypocrite to Harry. If she was so outrageous about the whole thing, why accept the dirty money?
His dad wanted to meet at the restaurant at the hotel he was staying in, which was not so distant from his and his mom's house. He arrived only 15 minutes later, leaving his car in the valet parking and taking a minute to take a deep breath and prepare himself for what he was sure it would be a difficult conversation.
After giving his name to the reception, Harry was taken to his father's table. He was already there, and it baffled him to see how different Desmond looked. His hair was almost entirely grey, wrinkles all over his face and he definitely looked skinnier. It had been less than 3 years but seemed to be 30.
"Harry!" Desmond jolted from his seat the moment he saw his son - his only child, actually - approaching the table with an uncertain look on his face. He was so handsome and tall, surpassed Desmond by at least 6 inches. His hair was longer but still so curly, the green eyes just like his mother's.
"Hi, Dad." Harry tried to sound cold and distant, but he was actually on the verge of breaking down. It was so much harder to act indifferent when actually facing his father, who he didn't see for so much time. He extended his hand but Desmond wasn't having it, grabbing Harry's hand and pulling him for a tight hug.
"It's so good to see you, son!" Desmond's voice sounded muffled on his ear. "You look so different, you're taller than me!"
"You look good too." Harry breaks from the hug awkwardly, ignoring how fast his heart was beating. "Greyer." He added, chuckling.
"Oh, yeah." Desmond shrugs dismissively. "Not growing old as good as you."
They sat at the table, for a few minutes only talking amenities. It was awkward, but not even close to how Harry was expecting it to be. Desmond didn't try to hold the fact he had been ignored for his son for almost 3 years against him, instead, he just looked grateful for having the opportunity of being close again.
Desmond was beyond happy to know Harry was in college studying business, taking a part-time internship, and even had a girlfriend. He felt so proud to see his boy doing so well. Not so deep down, he felt guilty for having to drag Harry to the mess his life was - he really tried to spare him of everything.
But he couldn't. He was in too deep to have the luxury of leaving Harry aside.
"Harry, there's something we need to talk about." He tried not to sound too urgent, but as the words fell from his lips he could hear how miserably he failed. "About S&L."
"Which side of S&L?" Harry's voice went immediately colder.
"Everything. Son, listen... I know how much I've disappointed you, I know how terrible it was to find things out the way you and your mother did. I was trying to protect you, in case something went sour, I would get all the responsibility to myself. The less you knew, the better."
"I get that. What I don't get is why to do it in the first place. It's not like we needed any extra money." Harry threw him a stern look, a deep frown forming on his forehead. "To jeopardize everything, your whole's life work."
"I didn't have a choice." Desmond says defensively. "It was all Phillip's. When I discovered everything, it was too late to step out without being held accountable too."
"Don't act like you're innocent in this, Dad."
"I know I'm not." Desmond's eyes were tired, his lips curled on an upside-down smile. "Ever since the start, I knew the pharmaceutical field was filthy, illegal drugs or not. I knew it would come the time I would have to hide some pharmaceutical miracle to keepbour profit high. You know that, I never hid it from you. We work in a merciless market, one we need to keep our emotions out of in order not to go crazy."
Harry knew the speech, he had been hearing it ever since he was little. Desmond and Anne were always clear about what owning a pharmaceutical industry actually meant. They never tried to sugar coat it, never tried to sound like heroes - even though yeah, they produce medicine who helps people fight diseases and live longer and fuller lives, they were a business. Their main goal would always be profiting.
"When Phillip first started with the hallucinogenic thing, he did it without my knowledge. He was just experimenting stuff, but it turned out to be so much more than that. By the time he came clean to me, S&L was in too deep, we were making so much money. I make a mistake, son. I was young, immature, and everything baffled me. So I agreed to keep doing it."
"What is up with storytime, dad? Why now?" There was an antsy feeling in the pit of Harry's stomach that wouldn't let him relax. He felt like there was something else, something his dad was stalling way too much to say.
"Phillip wants me to retire. He has been talking about it for quite some time now. He knows how hard it was for me to lose Anne and you over... Our business. He saw how it got meaningless to me."
"What's the matter? If it's meaningless, why don't you retire and leave all this shit behind you?" Harry raised his eyebrows in confusion.
"You're my only heir. If I step out now and you don't assume it, we'll lose everything."
"What? How come? Can't you simply sell your share to Phillip?"
"There's a loophole in our contract, something I've never gave too much credit before. If I retire without a blood relative to replace me, everything I have goes to my partner. To Phillip."
"What the fuck? What kind of fucking knob head would even think of signing a contract like---" Harry stopped himself, realizing a bit too late he just called his father a knob head.
"I know." Desmond shakes his head. "I was young. Irresponsible. Dumb. I trusted Phillip and quite frankly, never thought I would have to worry about something like that. I didn't know about the hallucinogenic at that point."
"How could you even... " Harry's voice trailed off as realization slowly started hitting him. "That's why you're here, right? You want me to--"
"You don't need to do nothing, not right now." Desmond said it quickly, barely able to disguise the desperation on his voice. "I just... I just need to know if you'll be there to assume everything. I need to know if you can be my heir, the way you were always supposed to. Being in my position it... It isn't easy. I don't know how much longer I can take, maybe a couple of years, but I... I just wanted you to--"
"I'll think about it." Harry pressed his lips to a thin line, disgust clear on his face.
"Phillip, he... He is not who you think he is. He is reckless, and even though he has been very low key about it, I know soon he will start pressing me to retire. He is unstoppable when it comes to money."
"What about Aster?" Harry's heart jumped just by the mention of her name. Almost 3 years later, countless flings and an actual girlfriend, and he still felt his cheeks going warmer when he thought about her. "Does she know?"
"No. Phillip doesn't want her to know, Harry."
"How can he push you out of business, assume everything if his own heir can't know about the kind of business he runs?" Harry frowns. Something doesn't add up in the entire story. "Won't she find it all out when she inherits it all?"
It all sounded too unrealistic as it was, but this last bit took the cake.
"I don't know, Harry. He has something planned, I'm sure of that... Phillip doesn't miss a trick."
"Would he be able to con his own daughter?"
Desmond kept silent for a moment, his brown eyes trained on his son's green ones. So many thoughts were rushing in his mind, so much regret weighing over his shoulders. Phillip used to be his best friend, they were like brothers once, but ever since Madeleine was dead, his best friend turned to a completely different person. He wasn't the same man. It was like his humanity died along with his firstborn.
And poor Aster wasn't enough for him to try and be a better man.
"He is capable of anything." Desmond says, at last, his own stomach twisting and turning. He hated himself for putting his son in such a difficult position.
Harry's mind was spinning, barely being able to keep up with all the half information he just received. His heart was beating insanely fast inside of his chest, bumping against his rib cages on a quick pace, thud-thud-thud. The idea of inheriting a multimillionaire, successful and dirty company had never left his mind - he knew this moment would come, and quite honestly, he had come to terms with it.
He had the faintest idea, not entirely matured yet, of changing everything about S&L once he was in the front of it. He thought and thought about it for years, ever since he became aware of the second line business that came along with it, but never came to any conclusion.
Frankly, he was so disappointed to his father, for a moment he even considered letting Desmond lose everything to Phillip, just so he could take his last name out of the equation. However, there was no way he would let it happen now that he knew it could bounce back and hit her.
He would do anything for her.
2016
They say if you tell the same lie enough times, you end up believing it. Harry was a witness to that.
When the line between lie and truth becomes blurry, it gets easier to coexist with the fraud you created.
Besides, when you actually believe what you're saying, you can convince anyone you're being honest. Because frankly, you kind of are.
When you become such a good liar, you can even deceive the devil.
And that's exactly what Harry did.
He didn't only start working at the S&L UK subsidiary to be trained as the next CEO. No, he did more than that - he started leading the second line business as well. Became the first big mass hallucinogenic producer in London. Made millions. Made Phillip's cold eyes sparkle.
Harry came to learn he was actually quite good at it. Better than his father ever was. It was almost like a gift, a skill forged deeply in his soul. He made the right alliances, spoke to the right people, became the person he always despised, and realized he was born for it.
So young and yet so reckless.
Day after day he worked on the facade he knew he would have to wear. Day after day he detached from his feelings, he changed his perspective of right and wrong. He convinced himself to become a different person, he became colder, meaner, wilder. And boy, did he put up with his role flawlessly. He was so good at it, at some point he was convinced that was what he actually wanted for life.
Even his biggest incentive became blurry for him. He laid with so many women, done so many spiteful things, broke so many ethical codes, tried so many things, he started thinking she wasn't even everything he remembered her to be.
She was his first love, so what? He was a child before. He didn't know any better. It was infantile, foolish, a product of his own imagination. To each different woman laying on his bed, the sensation of her lips became dimmer. To each time he came undone in the condom inside of someone else's pussy, the scent of her perfume became softer. And it didn't matter how many times he dreamt about her during the night, what mattered was his waking hours and how much he managed to push her out of his mind.
He was a new man, with a new life. His mission was the same, but the motivation had morphed. He didn't want to protect her. He simply wanted revenge.
But no matter how many times he said that to himself, no matter how convinced he was about forgetting about her, every time he stepped in New York, his heart rate would increase. The hair on his arms would stand up, his skin covered in goosebumps. He could practically touch the electricity in the air, the expectation, but at that point, Harry became quite good at hiding things - even from himself.
It was an awfully hot afternoon and he had just stepped out of S&L's office. His job there was done and he could finally go back to London. But even though the air was warm, it didn't match the boiling blood running in his veins. Every time he had to meet Phillip De Loutherbergh, he felt like that - on the verge of having a mental embolism out of anger.
They say anger is a great fuel. Harry was a witness to that.
There's also another known aspect about anger - it makes you petty.
And let's just be honest here - Harry is a petty person. He is too arrogant to be told what to do and simply let it be. If someone tells him he can't do something, that's exactly what he will do.
Aren't we all a little bit like this?
When Phillip told Harry to stay away from his daughter - not even adding further information, only claiming he wouldn't lose another daughter because of a delinquent like him - it was the same thing as telling Harry to do exactly the opposite.
It's not like Harry was trying to prove a point, but that's exactly what he was going to do.
It wasn't his fault that New York traffic was awful and he had to make a detour. Even less of his fault if the detour happened to go through Columbia University, or if he suddenly felt the need to stretch his legs just while he was passing such an inviting campus like that one. After all, he was just a tourist passing by.
He told the cab driver to keep the car running as he jumped out of it. He wasn't sure of what he was looking for or what would he even do in the remote possibility of actually bumping into her, but he had that pull, like a hook on his stomach, making him keep going.
The campus was filled with students - many of them seniors like him just 2 years ago. They were all young and carefree, so different from how he felt. He was only 23 but felt so much older, it was ridiculous. His long hair framed his gorgeous face, sharp jawline and carved cheekbones making him stand out from the crowd, the simple white t-shirt showing off the numerous drawings inked to his skin. All eyes were on him, but no pair of irises were as bright and blue as the ones he was looking for.
That was a waste of his time. Again, he let his emotions drive his actions - that was something he really needed to work on himself. Turning on the heels of his Chelsea boots, Harry shook his head, ready to walk back to the cab.
They say things that belong to a person have a way of finding them. Again, Harry was a witness to that.
Just as he was getting closer to the cab, he heard it. A sound so deeply soiled on his soul, he would reckon it anywhere.
Her laughter.
She wasn't far from him. Actually, it was a miracle they didn't actually bump into each other. But there was a reason for her not to notice him - her eyes were glued to another guy's brown ones, the wide smile on her lips also carried with admiration.
Harry could barely see straight from how fast his heart was beating, his head suddenly becoming dizzy. This was the first time he was seeing her after all that time, after leaving her house 6 years ago, after tasting her lips for the first and only time. She was so different and yet, looked exactly the same.
Her eyes were still icy blue, so like her father's but, at the same time, unique, warm, perfect. Her hair was shorter, the ends barely touching the bare, pale skin of her shoulders. The thin, blue summer dress hugged every curve on her body, full cleavage and round legs deliciously displayed.
She was fucking gorgeous.
Harry was frozen in place, his mind completely blank. He wanted to talk to her, wanted her to see him, wanted to find out what her reaction would be. His mouth was so dry and suddenly he was very aware of his tongue, it felt too big and slightly out of place.
She looked so happy.
It had been 6 years since they saw each other for the last time, but she didn't look like she missed him. No, she was at her prime. He never saw her so content.
She didn't miss him. Fuck, she probably forgot completely about him. After all, it had been 2 years since she stopped trying to contact him. 2 years with no new messages or emails, 2 years that her silence started matching his.
When Harry finally recovered control over his own body, she wasn't close anymore. Her fingers were intertwined with the guy's, her bubble butt bouncing calmly as she walked away.
Huffing, he almost ran back to his cab, glad he had at least 3 more years to work on the indifference he needed to have when it comes to Aster De Loutherbergh.
***
A/N: Ufff! This was a tough one!
Hope this chapter helped to bring a bit more clarity of Harry's side in the whole drug dealing thing.