Chapter 3: I Screw Up
Chapter 3: I Screw Up
Nelson
“Please, don't talk to my father.” Jason said, looking all tense.
His eyes pleading and watery, it seems I was right, but sadly I don't know what else to do. His mother died when he was born if I remember correctly and I don't know if he has any other relatives.
“Could…could you talk to my big brother instead?” He pleaded.
“He is older, almost the same age as you or a little bit older than you. I am not saying you are old, sir, sorry. What I meant to say is that he is an adult.”
I ponder on it for a moment, that is not a bad idea. An older brother that he trusts enough to bring up in this situation could be exactly the right influence to put this boy back on his feet. The more I think about this, the more I find this is the perfect solution.
“Alright, arrange a meeting with this brother of yours at five tomorrow or the day after.” I replied and he seemed to relax a bit.
“But, if I am not satisfied with the solutions your brother has to offer, I will report this. I want this kind of behavior to stop, do we understand each other?”
“Yes, sir.” He replied with a small voice.
“You are dismissed.” I said, handing him his cellphone back.
As he walked out of the classroom, I let out a heavy sigh. I am not sure if I handed it the best I could, but I am quite pleased with the conclusion. I wonder what exactly is going on in that little head of his, he just can't continue smoking like this. It will affect his focus in class and I am surprised his grades haven't dropped already. Speaking of smoking, I am in dire need of a cigarette. I quickly headed outside to indulge myself with my fix of nicotine. I had just lit the death stick and taken my first puff when my phone buzzed, I looked at the screen and it was Liam, my best friend calling.
“Hi, Liam. How are you?” I said as I picked up the call.
“Good and you?”
“I am feeling great.” I lied swiftly.
He has already done a lot for me, and since he found a new boyfriend three months ago, I have tried to bother him less with my own troubles.
“Are you still on for tomorrow night?” I asked.
“Definitely,” he replied.
“But that is not why I called.” He added, and began to explain to me his latest problem with his work to which I answered as best as I can.
“Thanks, dude. You are a life saver.” He said, after I have finished narrating the solutions to his problems.
“I still don't know what you are doing teaching in high school with that big brain of yours.”
“Well, at least, it hasn't shrunk like yours.” I teased him.
“You should really have found the answer to those questions by yourself.”
“Not everyone has the time to work three hours or more every day on research.” He counters.
Yes, I know I don't have a life, no need to remain me.
“Speaking of which, I have to go work on my research before my practice tonight.” I muttered, trying to hide my sudden sadness.
“Sorry, that was a bit insensitive.” He said, apparently, I didn't hide it well.
“It is great that you keep on working on this problem.” He cheered.
“And I am sure you will manage to solve it one day.”
Or maybe not, after all, who am I to believe I could succeed when a generation of scientists way smarter than me failed. But I won't stop trying in any case, since it has become an obsession of mine.
“No hard feelings.” I responded, trying to convey more enthusiasm this time.
“I will see you tomorrow night.”
“See you, Nelson.
I was just about to unlock the door to my apartment when I hung up, feeling like shít. It was more convenient than the eastern part of the city and is one of the cheapest neighborhoods of Sharjah. That way I can afford an apartment at a fifteen minute walk from my work place. Although it is a small apartment, it still costs me a third of my salary with just one living room, one bedroom and one bathroom, on the fifth floor without an elevator.
I don't really mind having to climb the stairs each time I come back home, that helps me to keep in shape. The worst thing is not having a washer inside, so I have to go to the laundromat every weekend, like I was a student. As soon as I closed the door behind me, the feeling of doubt and self-disgust I was trying to contain after that phone call hit me with full force. How did you get your life back when you have gone through hell? I really don't know. It has been three and half years and I barely survive each day. I pretend to be alright, teaching my classes, working on my research, going out with friends, and hiding behind a mask of normality.
But, it is just a facade, I can barely sleep at night and often have nightmares that leave me drenched in sweat, except last night. My life is just plainly pathetic.
Lucious Pov.
“Mr. Moreli, I have your brother on the line.” My personal assistant said.
I was reading the latest reports on last month's revenues when I was interrupted by a call from my personal assistant. I am the founder of Jumiamarket.com, a healthy and organic food delivered straight from the oven to your doorsteps. I started this business when I was fresh out of business school, seeing that the country had a growing interest for farmer markets and were getting tired of the shit you can find in grocery stores. Basically, it is a website where you can order food that we will deliver to your doorsteps and that has been produced in handpicked farms that follow strict guidelines. Consumers are prepared to pay a bit more for healthy and organic food.
The company had a bit of a rough start eight years ago, but it is now very profitable. The results from last month were amazing and we have a growing number of clients. I closed the report I was looking at to take the call, it has been a while since I last talked to my baby brother. He is eleven years younger than, and still in high school. My parents weren't really children person, I don't think my mother ever took care of me. She was busy partying and shopping and I would have preferred my father hadn't paid attention to me as well. So, logically, they stopped at one child until I became such a disappointed to my father, he decided he needed another heir, kicking me out and cutting me down. Unfortunately for her, my mother died giving birth to my younger brother. The true sad part is that, if you ask me, it is better for my baby brother not to know her at all.
At first, I rarely saw him. My control freak father making sure I was always denied entry to their mansion and then I went away for university. But since he becomes a teenager, it has been easier to meet him, unknown to my father, we grew very close. I was disappointed to my father because he had painfully groomed me into this perfect heir of his and I was to take down some big position in his company and eventually take his place when he retired. The old man is the CEO of Moreli Metal Industry. What my father hadn't planned for was a disgusting fag of son, his words, not mine. So when he found out that I was more interested in boys than girls, and hadn't any plan on changing it, as if it was possible. He decided that I wasn't to be part of the family anymore and threw me out of his house. Fortunately, my grandparents took me in and paid for the end of my high school and university fees. I was even able to start my own company with the money they left me before the two of them joined their maker.
My father had already planned my whole wedding, going as far as picking up my future wife. I never saw him again, which hasn't bothered me at all. The only regret you have is, I now realize I would have loved working for an organization such as his. I don't have fond memories of all the lessons my father had private tutors teach me, but he still manages to convey his passion for fashion to me. When I start a new business, I will probably try to find something more related to it. I picked up the call with a bright smile.
“What's up baby brother?”
“Hi, Lucious.” His voice is hoarse and tense.
That is not really his usual self which worries me instantly. What had that old man done again?
“I…ummm…I screw up and I need your help.”
“What did you do?”