"...And you need to start being more responsible, you're twenty-five for crying out loud! Most people your age are settled down and have something going for themselves." My mother complains as she takes a sip of her wine.

"Which is why we've brought you here tonight. We would've done it yesterday if you had showed." My father is cut off by my mother.

"Why didn't you show yesterday?"

"Probably the same reason why I almost didn't show today."

"Don't be a smartass, Harry." My mother scolds.

"Look, the point is that you're here now. I wanted to speak in front of a lawyer but I'm afraid that isn't happening, with you being late and all." I knew I shouldn't have come at all. "As you know, I'm stepping down as head CEO. I figured it's the perfect time to do so."

"Could this not have been a conversation to be had over the phone?"

My father doesn't answer, instead he glares. "I want you to take it."

I set my glass of wine down. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," he says. "I want you to step up and run the company for me. You've been working under me for about five and a half years now, who else better than you?"

"Maybe someone with far more experience? Someone who's actually invested in it?" I say and my mother shakes her head disapprovingly.

"We think it'd do you good to share the responsibility." My father explains.

"No, this is just your way of unloading your problems onto me."

"Your father is giving you the opportunity of a lifetime, why are you so determined to waste it?" My mother holds the glare from across the table, the same one she always had when I did something wrong as a child.

"Because it doesn't belong to me and you both know it." I grit causing them both to look away.

"If you're referring to Bill, I can assure you he shares no interest in the matter. The best position for him would be as an accountant, not as a CEO and even then he wouldn't be able to do that as well as you would."

"Right," I scoff. "The privileged son. What do you think the whispers between halls would look like? Because I can already picture them now. Joseph Fox's adopted son became the CEO after only five years, who would've thought?" The article writes itself.

"You know, you should really stop feeling so sorry for yourself, son. If you can't see past your insecurities how will you ever allow people to help you?"

"I don't need yours or anyone's help." I glare. Is this why they brought me here? To insult me? Belittle me?

"No of course not, how can you when you're drugged up twenty-four seven off of whatever drug you decided to pick up on some random street corner?" My mother retorts, her hand gripping the tablecloth.

"I see what this is about." I begin, looking between them both. "Is this your sorry excuse for an intervention? Please, humor me. What bullshit have your country club friends been filling your heads with?"

At this, my father stops my mother from opening her mouth and probably for the best. "I have connections that have gone through a similar thing. They've told us about this place where they have the proper knowledge to help you, better than we ever could." He takes out a pamphlet from his suit and slides it over.

A rehab in Jamaica. Fucking called it.

I chuckle, throwing it back on the table. "This sounds more like a resort to me. Really, have you learned nothing from the last two places? What's next? A therapist? Because I can tell you exactly how that'll go."

"The reason the last two didn't work was because you had access to your bank account. How do you expect to sober up when you're secretly buying coke from your roommates cousin?" My father recants, an annoyed expression on his face. "We're hoping for a different outcome this time."

"So I guess it's decided then." I nod. "You bring me out here tonight to tell me you'll spend your money on some bullshit therapy that only rich people are stupid enough to fall for. Way to break the stigma, dad."

"You are looking at this the completely wrong way, Harry." My mother says this time. "We are only trying to help because we love you. The last thing we want is for you to end up like Elija."

"Is that really your argument, mother?" Comparing me to my drug addicted brother is a new low, especially for her. I didn't particularly hate my brother, but comparing me to him offended me in ways I couldn't quite comprehend. "Maybe if we had ideal parents we wouldn't have been so fucked up."

"I won't argue that. What you went through is something that should've never happened, I'm sorry I wasn't there half the time to realize in time—"

"The most I'll do is I'll see a therapist again. But I am not spending my time in a rehab." I say. I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket and I retrieve it, checking the notification under the table while my parents spoke amongst themselves about what I just said.

Nes
Are you coming or not?! We're all at the restaurant, I'm trying to get fucked up before I get fucked ;)

I cringe at the text. If I'm being honest, I was growing bored of Nes and I have been for quite some time. No one here in New York interested me, not anymore at least. My thoughts however, go towards Beau. I would be lying if I said she didn't peak my interest because she did.

"What do you say?" My father says, breaking me from my thoughts and I look up. "We appoint you a good therapist and if I find out you're not going to your meetings, you're on the first flight to Jamaica."

If I don't agree to this, I will be stuck here for another two hours and I'd rather spend the remainder of my time elsewhere. I had no intentions on seeing a therapist, but if that's what it's going to take then so fucking be it. As much as I hated New York, it was a much better choice than a rehab in Jamaica or living in London with my father like Elija was.

"Son?"

"Sure." I say, beginning to stand up. "I've got to go, but do send me the info on that new therapist. I can't wait." I say sarcastically. With one last goodbye, I drive towards the restaurant. Normally I'd rather be alone, but I felt extremely lonely today that I'd much rather be in company with the other sad people in New York.

When I got there, the line was long so I took the stairs to the terrace where surely I found the group sitting in the middle table. The place was obnoxiously expensive, good for Alec and his new restaurant. It would've been much more impressive had his parents not bought it for him.

I notice a brunette sitting at one of the chairs, quickly recognizing the length of it and knowing it was Beau. "So, Beau." I hear Colson say. "You've got a Beau?" Classy.

"I do." Beau responds, Colson makes a face.

"That's a pity," The thing about Colson, he always said exactly what was on his mind.

"Forgive him," I speak up, pulling out the only available chair next to her. What were the odds? "Colson knows no boundaries."

"Harry, this is—" Darien begins to speak when I take Beau's hand in mine.

"Beau," I nod to her as she appeared taken aback. "We've met before, haven't we?" After a few seconds, Beau clears her throat while taking back her hand.

She looks over at Darien. "Yes, he helped me finish moving in." Now it's Darien's turn to look taken aback. I wasn't exactly known for helping anyone, the word polite didn't exactly show up in my description.

A while passes, the girls in deep conversation with each other with Beau making small talk when being asked a question. She replied to their conversation with the typical "yes", "no" and the occasional awkward laugh. Meanwhile, the fresh air blew the scent of her perfume to me and I realized I'd never smelled anything quite like it.

"You date?" My mouth beats me to it before I can even think about what to say to her. It was killing me watching her sit there in awkward silence while the girls deliberately ignored her.

"I do date." She nods, I nod.

"What's his name?" I say but quickly rephrase my question. "Or is it a her?"

"You are very into hearing all about people's life, aren't you?"

"Not usually," I say sincerely. "But I do like to familiarize myself. I mean, if you're going to be meeting here with my friends that is." To call these people my friends was in poor taste, we've got more of a give and take relationship and are hardly acquainted. "Consider me, enthused." That was solely the only true thing I said. I was very much enthralled by Beau and I didn't know why.

"Well, his name is William and we've been dating for about four years." At around this time is when I check out mentally from the conversation. Beau was very much intriguing to me, but it's obvious she's got her mind set on the typical and boring.

After all, how desperate must you be to date someone for four years? What's so great about that? I didn't realize how fast the night flew by because by the time I came to the realization of what was going on, I found myself agreeing to give this girl a ride home.

I wanted to say no, but as Darien so obviously called out, I was in fact on my way over there.

Who was I when I was in her presence?

The ride towards her apartment was silent as I couldn't seem to think of anything else other than my parents. In some way, it did hurt my ego a bit hearing my mother compare me to my brother. The fuck up. And I knew in a way, if she knew how fucked up I was, she would think much differently of Elija and wouldn't favor me as much.

We were now in the elevator as I pressed her floor, I finally speak. "It seems we are back where we started." I look towards her when she looks at me.

"Seems so," her answer is as bleak as the look on her face. "Only this time, we met up differently." She adds.

"Yet we keep bumping into each other. One might assume stalking is being taken into place."

"Are you stalking me?" Her blue eyes widen but I knew she was joking.

Or maybe she genuinely thought I was stalking her.

"One might assume so." I play on. "Are you stalking me?"

I can see her bite down on her tongue to prevent a laugh. "One might assume so." I walk towards Hailey's apartment and unlock it. "Thank you for the ride." She gives me a genuine smile and I found myself staring for a bit longer than I probably should've.

"You will be." Whatever the hell that meant, I close the door behind me and press my back for a second as I recollect myself from whatever that interaction was.

I watch Hailey come out from the kitchen, a glass of water in her hand. When she sees me, she sets the glass down and drops to her knees in front of me, maintaining eye contact. Where there was usually pleasure, I felt nothing but pity.

"Get up." I command and without question she does and follows me into the living room where I sit on the floor, the couch supporting my back. She does the same and I almost instantly lay my head on her lap where I remain for the next hour with her stroking my hair.