Leonardo

A few hours ago

Upon enlisting, I was asked the reason behind joining the army. I don't exactly remember what I'd answered but it was far from the truth. I was desperate to clear my evaluation that I didn't tell them I'd joined the Army to escape.

The girl I loved had left before my training ended. Factoring into it was the man whose shadows too, I tried avoiding. My father always expected Antonio and me to be our charming selves, an expectation which had cost us our childhood.

While kids at school debated in Model UN, we pleased the world with our televised interviews. When children went to birthday parties, we flew to shoot locations for promotions. With my bunny teeth and Antonio's kid glasses, we were Brenton Media's child models and unpaid laborers.

"I've established this company so you boys can have a secure life," Dad once said when I asked permission for a class trip that clashed with a shoot. "Stop acting ungrateful like your mother," he had growled when I tried another attempt at convincing him.

As a boy of ten, I couldn't wage a war against his tyranny. Just like my mother, I sat and bristled at his words, waiting for the phase to fade. Instead of fading, it only took a turn for the worst when puberty hit and we turned from cute kids into handsome young men.

Sniffed out by the bloodhound paparazzi and trailed by the focus lights of studios, I tried every means possible to dissociate from my last name.

My escapes were fruitless. Like the ocean waves that brought all dead matters to the shore, I was always found.

Only in the Army did the relevance of my last name diminish. Months of shelling and gunfire at the frontline didn't hurt me as bad as a single day spent under scalding public scrutiny.

The enemies abroad only killed once but the puffery back home strafed me every living second.

Since the day Haley finalized the details of James's interview, Dad had beamed like the sun, blinding me with his boastful reflections on Antonio's achievement.

I was the useless son who prioritized service to the country over service to the board of directors.

My designated office, a room with transparent glass doors that kept me in front of my staff's view, was also a means to keep me from running away.

My conscious nagged me while I read the summary of all my meetings, a consequence of having accepted the interim position.

You could have stayed away.

A knock on the door dragged my attention away from my schedule. My assistant poked her head inside, hanging at the entrance.

"Sir, I have Haley outs..."

"That's okay." Haley pushed open the door completely, walking in. "I don't need an appointment to talk to him."

After my assistant closed the door, Haley grinned at her little accomplishment. She liked marking her territory.

"What brings you to this chamber of torture?" I asked, leaning back into the comfort of my chair.

Haley struck a Superman pose and walked over to the glass panes overlooking the sunlit streets. "The view's nice from here."

"If I just wanted a view, I'd have stayed at some vacation spot."

"Leo." She turned, walking over. "We talked about this. If you're working here, it's easier to make excuses for you. Otherwise, there's no convincing your father not to throw you under the spotlight."

Her mellow smile and the dimmed expression on her face confirmed her concern.

While Antonio and Zemira strived for "America's Favorite Couple," Dad took up the task of making me the nation's war hero. He wouldn't stop milking it until I was nothing more than a husk of a man, dried up by unwanted attention.

It had been Haley's idea to put me in this position, occupying my time with meetings and work to keep me from being in front of the cameras.

"I can't have it both ways, can I?"

With pursed lips, she dipped her head from side to side.

"I know you don't like this." Gesturing to the room we were in, she spoke in a deflated tone. "But you need to make a genuine effort, Leo, before rejecting everything about this place."

There were things Haley didn't know about my childhood. I lacked words to explain why working for Dad felt like a noose around my neck, tightening with every disingenuous smile.

Similar to the nauseating sensation after overeating, I had been stuffed with sugary words since childhood.

"Hales," I said gently. "You don't know the half of it."

"I'm trying, Leo." She fell on the seat opposite to my table. "But it feels like you just want to shut everyone out. You don't even want to talk about it."

"You're right, I don't." I snapped back at her. Her eyes narrowed, furrowed eyebrows sheltering her from my angry words. "I didn't mean it like that, Haley. I'm really sorry."

Silence filled the room. Words braided at the back of my throat as I strove to conjure a more sincere apology.

Before I could speak, Haley glanced at her phone, and a soft smile appeared on her face.

"Zemira is so nervous about the interview," she said, grinning ear to ear. It was beyond my comprehension, how she was able to switch between unresolved topics.

"Hales, I said I'm sorry. I want to tell you things... stuff that I..."

Though words escaped, I lost steam before I could say what I wanted her to know.

"It's okay, Leo." She rose from her seat and moved to my side, dragging a chair behind her.

Plopping down and holding her phone so I could see the screen, she swiped through the photos that Antonio had sent of the interview set at the hotel.

Zooming in on one, she tapped at the screen.

Zemira sat in a corner, knees folded near her chest and her forehead resting upon them. They say some photos possess the power to melt hearts. That photo of Zemira had that effect on me.

Had I not been a witness to the photo, I would have believed what the world did – she never faltered, never feared.

"Isn't it cute?" Haley said, attempting to zoom in further before giving up and texting Antonio.

Indeed, it was cute.

It was saddening too. While I selfishly lamented about my situation and how I wanted to escape the sour reality, I had lost sight of the others around me in much worse situations.

"Okay, baby," Haley said, tapping my shoulder and straightening. "The interview will start shortly, so I'll be leaving."

She gathered her bag and files in one hand, tapping at her phone with the other.

At the door, she overlooked back over her shoulder. "Sure, you don't want to see it live?"

"Not in a million years," I said, crossing my arms over my chest to make my point.

"Bye then," she chuckled. "See you later."

As soon as she left, my assistant dove into action. The pile of files on her table shook even with the slightest movement around it.

Vanessa sat with her glasses on, picking up each file, running a finger over every page with the precision of a scholar as she briefed me on the meetings I was set to attend.

"Your first real meeting will start in fifteen," she said, looking at her watch. In the blink of an eye, she gathered all the relevant folders in one hand, a single sheet with the agenda in the other. "I've made a summary so you wouldn't be caught surprised."

"Thanks, Vanessa," I gathered everything from her, surveying the brief. "You're a lifesaver."

She said something but I was already walking towards the doomsday gathering.

Inside the well-lit board room, every board member eyed me. I was the newest animal admitted to their circus. Everyone except for Antonio was present for my induction.

I shook a few hands, embraced a few skeletons and opined on a few dry topics. My Dad stood in a corner with the watchful eyes of a hawk, ready to swoop in if I faltered.

When the presentation began, my focal point shifted from the colorful display on the screen, wandering beyond the physical boundaries of the room.

The pop and crack bullets, the deafening cries of people trapped under debris, and wastelands scattered with dead bodies...memories replayed like an un-skippable movie.

"...isn't it, son?" Dad's voice broke the reverie. I sat up straighter.

"Sorry, I was lost in the presentation, Dad. Can you please repeat the question?"

Although annoyed, he plastered a fake smile onto his wrinkled face and inhaled.

"I said, Welcome to the board. It's nice to be one of the elites, isn't it?"

My mouth soured and my smile shrivelled. I nodded my acceptance. Fake it till you leave it.

"Oh yes. Definitely."

Forcing my eyelids to remain open while the men in the room talked about their vapid interests, I survived my first meeting. One down, a million to go.

I walked back to my office with Dad's silent company walking beside me. He entered my office, straining his neck from all the looking around.

"Little one's office is bigger than this," Dad said, attempting to rile me up. He failed. After all, this wasn't my first bait.

"Care to join me?" He pointed towards the big television screen mounted on the wall.

"To watch the interview?" A sense of accomplishment stroked my back at having not succumbed to his theatrics. "I'm good."

Dad huffed like a whale and switched on the display. After surfing for a while, clicking his tongue every time he turned to the wrong channel, he finally nailed it.

A larger-than-life image of Antonio and Zemira popped up.

"I'm so proud of them." His finger danced at the screen. "These kids know what's required of them."

A rogue scoff left my mouth. "Marrying for business isn't a thing to boast about, Dad."

Dad tossed the remote and muttered, annoyed by my verbal pinch. "It's best if I watch this on my own."

"You read my mind."

He moved towards the door, turning around to look at me. When I said nothing, he walked away.

As the door slid shut after him, I felt the unsettling gaze of every staffer on the floor, peering at me through the glass walls of my office.

I imagined their hooded eyes evaluating if this interaction would turn into a yelling match that required them to leave the floor.

A voice from the television dragged my attention to the screen.

The cameras constantly focused on Zemira's face. Although her eyes twinkled under the bright lights, they lacked the sheen of life that I had seen at the hotel.

When she looked into the camera. My heartbeats arrested.

Her unflinching gaze, the crinkle on her forehead made me feel that she could see me through the screen. Her stare, fixed on the horizon, poked at the back of my neck. It felt like a call for comfort.

When Antonio wrapped his hand over hers, a smile flooded her face. The way they looked at each, with a lingering gaze, made me believe they were happy with each other.

Maybe, those doubts I had for them were a projection of my own unresolved issues.

That thought lasted for barely a second.

When the interviewer cleared his throat and straightened on his chair, I gripped the remote, turning down the volume.

I had a feeling something bad was about to happen.

The moment voices from Antonio's sex tape began playing on the screen, my brain fired instructions. I fished out my phone, dialing Haley.

Her frantic voice matched mine. "Not now Leo. I'm in the midst of-"

"A crisis, I know. You've got to take her out."

The cameras remained focused on Zemira's frozen expression. With every passing second, it panned in on her pale blue eyes.

"Zem won't be able to take it. You don't want our girl to cry on screen. Pull her out. Now."

"What about Antonio?" Haley asked while instructing someone to take Zemira.

What about my brother?

Although Antonio was the one on the tape, nobody seemed to care about him. The lenses only focused on Zemira, the world staring into her eyes and soul.

They sharpened their knives to stab her with blame, even for things she wasn't aware of.

"Anto can take care of himself," I said, grabbing my car keys and rushing out of my office. "I'm coming now. Don't send her with anyone else."

My heart thundered. From now on, every minute was crucial. Every moment held the power to either keep us standing or break our bones.

Somewhere along the run to the elevator and into the parking lot, I realized I was jumping over hurdles to protect a blue-eyed girl I barely knew. The girl, who would one day regret staring into my soul.

~

Some people are worth crossing each ocean and every mountain.

Did you ever have a person like that?