56XVI. Ashton David Devon
"I believe that imagination is stronger than knowledge - myth is more potent than history - dreams are more powerful than facts - hope always triumphs over experience - laughter is the cure for grief - love is stronger than death"
-Robert Fulghum (1973—)
"Ashton, lad, suit up." Ashton heard his father, Darren Devon, call to him as he tried to find a decent channel to watch. Darren Devon was a big, stout man with a goofy moustache. And when Ashton thought about it, his father was a lot like Uncle Vernon from the Harry Potter series. The only difference was, you would never find his father without a cigar between his fingers, which were already stained yellow and brown with all the nicotine it's always holding.
Ashton's father, who doesn't refuse to show off his wealth whenever there's a chance, is the owner of a large company. His once darkbrown mane is now growing lighter with age, and his eyes gleam with greed most of the time.
And they were gleaming even more right now as Ashton turned to look at his father in surprise. Surprise, because Darren Devon is rarely home. Especially in weekends.
God knows, his father would rather go off with his business associates and go golfing at the nearby country club golf court than spend his time at home hanging out with his one and only son who has just lost someone very important to him.
Granted, it was just a few months ago, but still. Shouldn't a good father be with his son for moral support if said son just lost a very good friend?
But that's just it. Ashton's father wasn't a good father. He hasn't been a good father ever since his wife's death.
Contraty to other people's beliefs, Ashton wasn't as happy-go-lucky as they thought he was. Like Roxy, he has lost his mother at a young age in a unfortunate car accident... But unlike Roxy, his father completely ignores him unless he needed him for some reason—which usually concerns work, money and fame.
Yes, he could buy anything he wants. Yes, he could just go spoil himself and do whatever he wanted and be the typical rich snob.
But that wasn't what Ashton wanted. At all. All he wanted was for his father to notice him and start being the father he was before his wife died. But that never happened. His father kept on working and working and working.
And what was he to his father? Not a son. Not a little boy. Not his only child. He was the heir to the company he owned.
The change happened a month after his mother's funeral. At the funeral, his father was thin and in great health and standing beside him as they watched the coffin being lowered to the depths of the earth.
Together they had dropped their sunflowers inside the grave. Sunflowers. His mother's favorite.
And that night his father held him, as Ashton's 8 yeard old body shook with small sobs, whispering comforting words into his ear as he slowly fell asleep.
Later that night, he was woken up when he had heard his father's own sobs from the next room. That time, they were living in just a small house with thin walls.
As the weeks passed by, Ashton had noticed things. His father comes home less. Father talks to him less. Father doesn't eat dinner with him anymore. At weekends, he can't even find father anywhere.
Since he was still a child, this hadn't concerned him much.
But one night—approximately a month after his mother's funeral—his father came home smelling 'stinky'. He was child, so he wasn't aware of how alcohol smelled. Heck, he wasn't even aware at that time that there was even such a thing.
He had stayed up that night to show his father something (he can't remember what exactly) and when he his father stumbled into their house, he excitedly went up to the man and showed it to him. The man looked at it with beady, hazy eyes and promptly shoved it out of Ashton's small hands... And hit him square on his left cheek, making him stagger to the right and slowly sink onto the floor.
That was the day Ashton knew that his father had changed. In fact, that mant in front of him that night wasn't his father anymore.
He looked at the man, trying to see some form of remorse on his face, but the man just took a swig of his bottle containing something that seemed to just make things worse. The man looked at him again, and he backed away, then the man started spouting incomprehensible words in a loud voice.
He had immediately run into his room, locked the door and hid under his bed. He didn't even notice that he was sobbing that night, in fear of the man outside his bedroom door.
After that, Ashton avoided his father at all costs, and the man came home even less. They never talked about that night even when they started talking again when he turned 12, the age he met Roxy.
But through it all, despite it all, Ashton still adored his old man, because of this thing he read from a book, that totally got to him: Sons will adore their fathers through even the worst behaviour. It is how they learn devotion. Before he can devote himself to God or a woman, a boy will devote himself to his father, even foolishly, even beyond explanation.
Even though Ashton already thinks it's hopeless to get his father to notice him as more than an heir, a part of him still thinks that maybe if he succeeds in everything he does, he would earn his father's acknowledgement or maybe even a bit of love.
"What are you doing here?" Ashton asked, turning off the television, not taking his eyes off the big fat man who was currently wearing a brown Armani suit.
Darren Devon straightened his tie, and smiled charmingly (or so he thought) at his son. "Why, lad, this is my home after all. I can come whenever I want, can't I?" he said, a golden tooth shining irritatingly.
Home? How could you call this your home when you're not even here most of the time?
Ashton's suspicious stare only deepened. "Father, what do you want?" his tone practically screamed that he was not in the mood to beat around the bush.
The man remained smiling maliciously by the doorway, as Ashton remained sitting on the couch. "My boy, what makes you think I want something?" he asked, his voice gravelly, as the smoke from his cigar started to irritate Ashton's nostrils. "Can't a father come home to his son without having an ulterior motive?"
Either the man ignored Ashton's no-nonsense tone or he got more stupid the last time they had a conversation.
Probably the latter. The nicotine is not only poisoning his father's lungs, but his brain too.
Ashton's eyes narrowed with distrust and his arms crossed in front of his chest. "They can. But I'm not saying you're one of them, and I only become your son when you need something, Father." He couldn't help but spat the last word in disdain.
When the 'charming' smile left his father's lips, Ashton could tell he was bored with the conversation already. "There's a party at 8pm—"
"Oh, and I'm your date? Why, I'm honored." Ashton drawled, cutting his father off. He smirked at the man as a scowl began to make its way to his face.
"Don't interrupt me, lad, or you're grounded for a month." He barked at Ashton as if that was supposed to scare him. Ashton rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything.
Chyeah right. As if being forbidden to get out of the house for a month is every teenager's worst nightmare.
"As I was saying," Darren gave Ashton a beady glare. "There's a party at 8pm, and I'm invited." He said, puffing out his chest proudly, making his fat stomach even more visible.
Ashton's eyebrows went up, disbelievingly. Is this why his father came home? To waste Ashton's time by bragging about how he was invited to some party?
"This is why you came home?" It was said more like a statement than a question.
"I'm not finished, boy!" Darren Devon barked, his face reddening. "There are rumours that there are going to be rich people there with their rich daughters..." Ashton rolled his hazel eyes, already knowing where the conversation was going. "Boy! BOY! Listen to me, lad," Ashton turned his gaze back to the fat man he calls a 'father'. "You're going to be 18 soon, and you need a suitable wife, ya hear?"
You mean a woman that will make you even richer?
Ashton didn't reply.
"Got that?" his father repeated, angrily, obviously irritated at his son's lack of respect and response.
But Ashton only rolled his eyes again, and said, "Whose party?"
Darred eyed his son, angrily, putting the cigar between his yellowing teeth. "Adrienne Hart." He jerked his head towards the plasma TV. "She's on the news, remember her face well, you'll need to go talk to her...or something." He ran a hand through his thinning brown hair. "Check her out and get ready. The limousine will be ready in 15 minutes." The man left after that, his heavy footsteps slowly fading away.
Ashton turned the TV on, and switched it to the News channel. He stared at the red-haired girl in the screen, and nearly dropped the remote.
Was it just him or did the girl looked eerily like Roxy? He rubbed his eyes, but when he opened them again the girl wasn't facing the camera anymore, and instead was being kissed by the famous actor, Michael Lewey.
He shook his head. It was probably just his mind playing tricks on him.
He noted the unusually beautiful shade of red Adrienne Hart's hair was, and quickly shut off the TV.
He stared at the blank screen for a moment, unmoving.
He shuddered, got up and got ready for the party that he didn't know was the start of the big change in his life.
It has been practically an hour already, since the party started, and Ashton's mood was not getting better. In fact, it probably got worse.
Three women have already tried to flirt with him, but all three were swiftly dismissed before they thought they even had a chance.
They were all rich daughters of rich people, but Ashton didn't like any of them. One was too air-headed, and irritated his ears with all the talk about brand names. The other one was too hyper, and also irritated his ears by talking too fast. And the last one was... Uhm, too physical. Let's just end it with that.
He involuntarily shuddered.
He was standing near the long buffet table, drinking rootbeer in his navy blue Bianco Brioni Italian linen suit, with his inner long sleeved white shirt's collar popped open to give it the casual look. He watched by the sidelines, as people interacted with other people.
Honestly, why was he here again?
Oh yeah, to go find a 'suitable wife'—which probably meant, a woman who is filthy rich or who has a filthy rich father and a pushover. Well, there goes three chances.
Aww. Not.
Ashton has already known about his father's plan to use him as a tool to get even more money, but since Ashton hadn't really liked any girl at that time, he didn't care much.
But now that he got less than a year, he suddenly cared.
He didn't want to get used like that by his father.
Why should he marry someone he didn't like? And why should he do that for his father? He sure didn't owe him anything.
His train of thoughts was interrupted when a girl with familiar red hair stomped past him to get to the other end of the buffet table.
He turned and saw the person this party was for.
Ahh. Adrienne Hart. The girl that has been clouding his thoughts the past hour because of what he thinks he saw in the TV. He still couldn't see her face though, because her back was facing him.
She was wearing a forest green one-shoulder gown with a pretty daring side slit. She was attention-grabbing when Ashton thought about it. She really did seem like the party was all about her.
He didn't even notice it, but the girl has already caught his interest. He was already observing her unbeknownst to even himself.
It was obvious she was pissed off about something, because, well, she was stomping really hard. Oh yeah, and she was brutally piercing the pasta with the spork as she took some.
Oooh. She ripped off two of the chiken's wings.
She took some shrimps too.
Then she took some Foie Gras... Ashton hoped she knew what that really was.
Wow, she must be really hungry to have all that stuff on her plate. She even surprised him by swiftly taking a whole liter of soda when the caterer turned his head momentarily to talk to someone.
Ashton stretched his neck to try and see her face, but he didn't get a chance because she didn't turn back and kept walking towards a curtain, and disappeared behind it.
He was slightly perturbed by the amount of food she has gotten, seeing that she's Michael Lewey's new girlfriend. And God knows, those type of guys prefer anorexic or bullimic air-heads that have hot bodies.
Okay, he was stereotyping, he can't help it, Michael Lewey did look like the 'screw 'em and leave 'em' type of guy.
Suddenly, from his peripheral vision, he saw a feisty-looking brunette eyeing him in a way he did not want to be eyed. He immediately broke eye contact, in fear that the brunette might think his looking was an invitation. He sneaked a look towards the direction of the brunette again, and saw that she was already heading towards him, so he quickly began to think of a way to escape.
He couldn't think of anything else, and the girl was quickly nearing him, so he went and walked, hid behind crowds, trying to lose the brunette and swiftly ran into the first thing he could think of.
Behind the curtain Adrienne Hart disappeared into.
He closed the curtain quickly right after he had gotten in, and hoped to God that the brunette wouldn't think to look there. He didn't need another pick up line thrown at him.
...Boy. That was a weird thought.
What is happening to girls these days? We're the guys, we should be picking them up, not the other way around!
He sighed, relieved, when even after a few minutes, the brunette didn't appear. He turned around and was met by darkness. He waited for his eyes to adjust, and when he finally did... He saw her.
The clouds filled the sky, so the mood was only slightly visible. He started to approach her, and he saw her lighting a cigarette.
What the heck? So now Michael Lewey goes for the badasses?
He watched her inhale deeply and went, "Ms. Hart?"
The girl quickly turned and began...choking and coughing.
Wow. There goes my self-confidence, he thought dryly.
He waited for her to stop coughing, being careful not to show that he was getting a bit annoyed. When she finished, she just stared widely at him. Great.
Thankfully, her gaze remained on his face and didn't go anywhere else like the other girls' did.
Which meant she wasn't checking him out.
Now he was starting to get self-conscious. Did he look hideous or something? Was something in his hair? On his suit? What?
He gave her a small wry grin. "I didn't know you smoke, Ms. Hart. That's bad for your health, you know." He told her, staring right where her eyes were supposed to be. The moon was behind her back, so it was really hard to see what shade of green they were, since he only saw for a second in TV and he couldn't remember.
She just continued to stare.
He walked closer to examine her. "Are you...okay?" he asked, tentatively, his eyelashes sweeping low as he looked down at her from his tall height, and he realized that she was as small as...
Ashton inwardly slapped himself. What's wrong with him? He's connecting everything to Roxy again.
She replied with this weird squeak, but continued to stare at him.
His eyebrows went up, "O-kay..." He replied, slowly, in a low tone. He was officially weirded out by this girl.
Actually, he was already contemplating how to get out of the conversation, since he suddenly regretted talking to her, but then she seemed to have regained her composure. "How do you know my name?" she asked, curiously.
He was thinking she sounded awfully a lot like Roxy too.
He's considering going to a therapist, seriously.
Ashton raised one eyebrow. Did this girl know just how much popular her boyfriend is? "How could I not know you when your liplock session with your boyfriend was shown on National TV?" He asked, a bit bored.
Her jaw dropped. "I'm sorry," she let out a slight disbelieving laugh. "But I believe you just said that THAT was shown on National TV. I do hope, in all sincerity, that I heard you wrong."
"No, you heard me right." Ashton told her, slightly confused by her reaction. Shouldn't she be, like, jumping aroung and squealing excitedly because she's gaining popularity by a mere kiss?
"WHAT?!" she practically shrieked, in disbelief. "In national-fucking-TV?!" she held her head as if it was going to explode. "I cannot believe this! I am going to castrate that guy!" she hissed under her breath. "I am going to shove his hand into a meat grinder, finger by finger, spoon out his eyeballs, bash his head into a wall, like, 70 times and stab him , then take him to a hospital so he can live, and then suffocate him with a pillow."
This kind of rant was very familiar to him, since Roxy did it a lot. "Okay, where do we hide the body?" he asked, out of instinct, before he could even think about it. When he realized what he just did, he wanted to laugh out loud.
This was... unexpectedly amusing.
Adrienne looked at him. "Where do people dump things around here?" she asked, mischievously.
"The dumpsite!" they chorused.
She laughed, throwing her head back. "Hey, we get along." She said, popping a shirmp into her mouth.
Ashton couldn't believe that this was the girl he met a few minutes ago. Earlier he just concluded he didn't like her, and then she suddenly turns into this cool, easygoing girl.
He hasn't been this amused since, well...
"So," he heard Adrienne start, interrupting his thoughts. "What are you doing out here?" she dropped her cigarette and squished it.
"I could ask you the same question." He replied, his tone flat.
She smirked. "You could, but you haven't. So answer mine first." She said, popping another shrimp into her mouth.
A grin tugged at his mouth, but he managed to hide it. "Fine. I came out here to tell you that the guests are wondering where the star of the night is." He said, easily. Well, okay, that was a lie, but somehow, he'd rather lie to this girl than tell her that he ran from some predatory brunette. "And in case you forgot, you're the one I'm talking about."
She rolled her eyes, laughing a bit. "Let them wonder, I don't really care. I don't even want to meet them. In fact, I don't even want to be here!" she said, frowning.
Ashton raised an eyebrow in amusement. "You don't want to be in your own party?" he asked, disbelievingly. He never thought that that guy would go out with this kind of girl.
His kind of girl.
She looked up, thinking about it. "It's not that really... I just hate parties in general. You know, the noise, the people... I mean, I didn't even ask for a welcome party." She said, shrugging.
Hm. He wasn't too fond of parties either.
"Welcome party? Why, where did you come from?" he asked, surprised. He didn't know this was a Welcome party. All he really knew was, well, this was a party.
She raised an eyebrow, giggling. "You don't know?" she asked.
He shrugged, shoving his hands in his pants pocket. "Not really. Basically, all I really knew about you is your name, what your hair looked like, and, oh yeah, that you're Michael Lewey's girlfriend." He told her, bluntly.
She groaned. "Don't remind me." She muttered, her voice low.
He couldn't help but chuckle. "So, where are you from?" Ashton asked, again. Normally he gets bored talking to other people almost immediately, but something about the red-haired girl drew him in.
As if he had already known her for a long time.
"England." She said, smiling at him slightly, and ate a slice of chicken wing. The moon started to come out, and the moonlight slowly revealed the shape of her face, and the redness of her hair...but it still didn't reach her eyes.
So the shade remained unknown.
Jeez, why the hell is he so obsessed with the shade?
But he could see the shape... sharp and... cat-like. He stared at her. "Have we...met before?" he asked her, dazed. She seemed so familiar, yet he knew he has never heard of the name 'Adrienne Hart' before.
Adrienne stopped and stared at him. It took her a moment to reply, probably because she was assessing if she had met him before. "...No. Have you ever been in England?" she asked, her voice toneless.
"No," he shook his head. "Why?"
She smiled, but somehow it didn't reach her eyes. "I have been in England all my life... and since you haven't been there even once, it would be impossible for us to meet." She said, and drank some of her soda, straight from the bottle.
He stopped. "Wait, if you've been in England all your life, how come you don't even have a hint of an accent?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
She suddenly began choking on the soda, and she leaned towards the stone railing and started coughing towards the darkness beneath. After a few moments of wiping her mouth, she turned back to Ashton and wore a big smile. "Rubbish! You're just saying that... Really? You honestly didn't notice an accent?" she said, excitedly, letting it out with a perfect British accent.
His eyebrows went up in surprise. "Um," he started. "Now I do."
She put a hand on her cheek, acting like a perfect lady. "I do apologize, when I get excited I revert back to English." She told him, still with the accent. She coughed, and then spoke again, but without the accent this time. "Michael and I have been talking about coming here to New York for quite a while, so I took some classes on how to speak without the accent. I don't know, I just wanted to surprise people." She smiled, shrugging her shoulders.
Well, congratulations on accomplishing that task.
"Good work. Fooled me." He praised her, giving her a thumbs up.
"Thanks." She replied, and slipped out an accent. She made the 'oops' face, making him chuckle a bit.
Then he asked her something that's been bugging him. "Why do you like Michael Lewey?" he blurted out, probably surprising her. "I mean, no offense, but the guy looks like an asshole." He told her, bluntly.
To his amazement, Adrienne bursted out laughing. "That's because he is." She managed to say between her laughter.
Ashton couldn't hold back his grin anymore. Her laugh was so carefree and happy that it was starting to have an effect on him. "Honestly, what kind of girlfriend agrees with a guy when he says her boyfriend looks like an asshole?" he asked, chuckling a bit.
She started snorting between laughs. "Actually," she managed to get out again, between more fits of laughter. "I kind of had a mental image of the literal kind." She said, then started laughing really hard again.
At first he was confused, but then he got it, and the image flashed into his mind and he couldn't stop himself from following Adrienne's guffaws.
Ashton felt his soul coming back, he actually felt alive again. Suddenly, he didn't think this party was so bad anymore. Was this all because of her?
He actually teared up because of too much laughter. He was finally able to stop picturing the horrible image, so that he could also cease laughing his ass off. "Okay. That was just...gross." he gasped out, bending a bit, resting his left hand just above his knee, and using the other hand to wipe the tear from his eye.
She finally stopped too, but still had some giggling lapses. "You don't know how much of an asshole he really is." She told him, leaning back on the stone railing, as she rested from her laugh fest.
He stood up straight, and ran a hand through his shaggy reddish brown hair. He should really get a haircut one of these days. He was lucky he even voluntarily gets off his ass every morning to shave because that was part of his morning routine. But a haircut wasn't. "I know a little." He said, winking.
She rolled her eyes at him. "Really?" she went, but it wasn't a question, more like a challenge.
He scoffed. "Uh yeah!" he told her. "I have this friend, you see," he started, and leaned back on the stone railing beside her. "And she's pretty much a fan of your boyrfriend—"
Adrienne stopped him with a hand. "Can you please desist from referring to him as my boyfriend, because, seriously, you can just call him Michael." She told him.
He rolled his eyes, playfully. "Fine, milady." He made a mocking bow. "Anyway, my friend, who's a fan, asked my other friend to get her an autograph—and my other friend, who's a lot like you actually," he glanced at her, and nodded when she made an 'oh really?' face, "got snubbed by your—" Adrienne sent him a glare, so he quickly corrected himself, "—Michael, ultimately showing her how much of an asshole he was and pissing her off in the process, so she humiliated him in front of everyone by calling him, I quote, a 'superficial dick of a celebrity', 'ostentatious'—and the clincher—an 'arrogant asshole'."
Adrienne began laughing again, "Yeah, I remember that!" she snorted.
Ashton's grin froze on his face. "How could you know that?"
Adrienne kind of froze too, but then she looked at him like he was crazy. "I'm his girlfriend. I distinctly remember how pissed off his voice was on the phone when he called me to tell me all about that. I can't believe you knew that girl!" she said, laughing a bit, slapping his arm half-heartedly. "What a small world huh."
Ashton shook himself out of the daze.
What the heck is wrong with me? Damn it.
"Yeah, it is." He replied, realizing that the last time he saw Michael Lewey was the last day he saw Roxy, before she disappeared from his life forever.
Shit, he was beginning to get depressed again.
Suddenly, the curtains opened, momentarily letting the light from the party flood into their secret little place effectively blinding them both, and in stepped a familiar big, stout man. Ashton surpressed an incoming groan of annoyance.
Why the heck is he here?
"Where in the bloody hell have you been?! I've met Parker, Sullivan, and Andrews! They all said you embarrassed their daughters—do you know what you've bloody done?! You better be happy they've let it slide or we would've lost millions!" Darren Devon, Ashton's father, thundered in (or out?) until he was looking up at Ashton, since through the years, the boy has outgrown his father. He shook a meaty finger in front of Ashton's face.
Ashton sighed. Just when he was finally having a good time with a great companion, his father comes and ruins it. "Father, I didn't like them." He told his father, patiently. Besides, how could he have known those were the daughters of his business partners? "Can we go someplace else for this conversation?" He reached out for his father's arm to pull him away, but the man shoved it away in anger.
For a moment, Ashton was brought back to that day when he was just 8 years old. He hardened his face.
His father's face was very red, and his face seemed about ready to burst. "It doesn't bloody matter if you like them or not, boy! What matters is the amount in their bloody bank account!" he practically yelled at Ashton, as if he had said that a million times already.
Ashton couldn't take it anymore. It was fine if the man was doing this when they're alone, but with somebody else witnessing this, he was not going to stand idly any longer. He was about to reply with something he'll surely regret later (after his father disowns him) but before he could even open his mouth, his father's beady eyes landed on the figure beside him, and went, rather rudely, "Who are you?"
"Hello, Mr. Devon..." the voice took a low, mysterious tone, and Ashton's father reeled back in shock.
"Adams..." His father whispered, his usually beady eyes, widening in shock and fear.
Ashton was baffled to hear that name from his father's lips, and quickly turned around to look at Adrienne, who was just frowning in what seemed like confusion. "Father, what are you saying? She's Adrienne." He said, looking back at his father.
Darren glanced at his son. "Adrienne? Adrienne who?" his voice took a slightly high note.
Ashton gave his father a strange look. "Adrienne Hart. You know, the girl this party is being held for." He spoke slowly.
Suddenly, his father started to visibly calm down. "Oh. Oh yes. Adrienne. Adrienne Hart. Not Roxanne Adams. Not Roxanne Adams at all." He chanted, breathing hard. "For a while, you kind of looked like, well—but that's impossible, since Adams is after all, dead. My minf must've been playing tricks on me." The man laughed, nervously, and a bit hysterically.
Ashton cringed every time he heard her name. It was like a thousand knives stabbed him on the chest. Not to mention the 'dead' part.
Thanks for being so sensitive, Father.
"Wait a minute, Adrienne Hart, you say?" Darren stared at the girl. "Oh my! Forgive my insolence, my lady! I didn't recognize you in the dark!" He finally reverted back to his originally annoying self. Ashton rolled his eyes. Now his father reminded him of a Peter Pettigrew. "Why are you here of all places? Your beauty cannot shine here!"
"It's alright, Mr. Devon." She said, nicely, her accent being released. She was smiling so brilliantly that it told Ashton it was completely fake. "I was just having a conversation with your son. He's a very agreeable boy."
"Thank you! Yes, my boy and I are as thick as thieves!" Darred boomed out, joyously clapping a hand on Ashton's back. Ashton glared at the hand.
"Oh is that so? Well, your 'boy' and I are getting along quite well, and I believe I've made my very first friend here in New York." Adrienne replied, turning to smile at Ashton.
Thankfully, it was genuine.
"Though we had a little trouble at first, I must admit." She said, chuckling.
She's probably referring to the part where she just kept staring, Ashton thought, amused.
Ashton's father's grip on his shoulder tightened painfully. "Well, I apologize for whatever he has done wrong, Ms. Hart. He's in such a bad mood because his dead friend—you know, Roxanne—'s birthday is in a week." He said, waving his hand in front of his face, as if whatever he was talking about was supposedly insignificant.
Ashton inwardly flinched. Stop it, he heard his own weak voice protest inside his head.
"Oh..." was the only thing Adrienne said, and he could feel her eyes on him, but he didn't want to look.
Stop it...
"She's just his bestfriend, though I doubt they weren't in a relationship of some sort..." his father sniffed, glancing at him with half-lidded eyes. "She went missing a couple of months back, probably got into some kind of trouble with some druggies or punks she surely hangs out with, and then her sister turned up and told everyone that she's dead, but they still haven't found a body." Darren explained. "I thanked God that my son here wasn't with her when it happened, who knows what kind of trouble she's really in, that's why I didn't want my boy hanging out with the likes of her—"
STOP IT!, he heard his 12-year old voice scream and begin to sob. And he realized that he was gripping his blazer so tight that it was getting really crumpled.
"Dad. Stop. Please." Ashton voiced out, quietly, his head down.
Now his father just reminded him why he was miserable in the first place. Roxy's birthday was in a week. And he had no idea if he should mourn or celebrate, even though he knew she would've wanted him to celebrate.
He inwardly let out a bitter laugh. As if he could even crack a smile on that day.
That's why he didn't attend training today. He felt crappy enough.
The small request made his father stop, but he didn't know his father's exact reaction, because Ashton wouldn't dare let his father see this broken expression he currently had on. But a moment after, his father began talking again, but on a different matter, thankfully.
That was probably the nicest thing his father has ever done for him ever since he changed.
"Anyway, Ms. Hart, I have to attend to some business associates, but I must ask, I didn't even introduce myself, yet you already knew who I am. May I ask how?" his father's voice obviously had a greasy smirk along with it.
"Oh, Michael has mentioned you." She told him.
His father was obviously surprised. "My! I'm flattered. Well, I'll go have a chat with him. Still, here's my card. If ever you need anything. Have a good night, Ms. Hart." Darren said, handing a card to Adrienne, who took it silently, and without another word to his son, Darren left the balcony.
Silence dominated the air between the two of them.
Ashton didn't know how to face her after that embarrassing display of a ridiculous excuse of a father-and-son relationship.
He felt so humiliated.
After a while, he just heard the clang of a utensil on a plate. He looked up, and saw Adrienne eating the Foie Gras. He watched, fascinated, as it passed through her lips and into her mouth.
She noticed him looking, and smiled at him. "Do you want some?" she asked, her British accent still evident.
He shook his head, politely. He didn't know what to say.
Adrienne ate some more. "Why not? It's delicious." She commented, chewing amicably.
Ashton couldn't help but say, "Do you even know what that is?"
Adrienne looked at him. "What?"
"It's Foie Gras."
Adrienne looked excited. "Oohh. It's French?!" She asked, reverting to American English. "Cool!" She took another bite, enthusiastically.
Well, obviously, she doesn't know.
Should I tell her?
He stared at her face, which was smiling in pleasure of the food.
He smirked, mischievously. Yeah, I'll tell her.
"It's duck or goose..." he started.
"Ooh! This is my first time eating duck, or goose for that matter—"
"...liver." he finished.
Adrienne froze. Completely.
Ashton was desperately holding back his laughter. He didn't want to ruin her reaction.
She slowly turned to face him, her mouth still full of the Foie Gras.
"What?" she asked, through her mouthful.
He coughed slightly, to help him stop from smirking. He put on a very serious face. "It's duck or goose liver." He repeated, purposefully prolonging the pronunciation of the last word.
Adrienne stared at him for a moment, and then turned towards the stone railing and started spitting out everything that was in her mouth towards the trees below. She even threw away the remainder of the dish, along with the plate. Then she started downing the soda until there was only one-fourth left.
Ashton didn't know when he started laughing really hard, but he didn't care. Her reaction was priceless! He wanted to keep that in his memory for a time when he really needs a laugh. His stomach actually started hurting from all the laughing he's been doing.
Ashton hasn't laughed like this for a really long while... Like everything is okay again.
His eyes were closed with how hard he was laughing, so when he opened them, he found Adrienne scowling at him.
"Are you crazy?!" She yelled, thoroughly embarrassed. "How could you let me eat that?!"
He could only answer with more laughs.
She started pounding on him, but not that hard, but it only caused him to laugh harder. "I couldn't help it! You were enjoying it too much!"
"Then why did you have to tell me what it really was!?" she stopped for a moment, scowling at him again.
Ashton smirked. "Same answer. I couldn't help it. You were enjoying it too much."
She let out a savage noise and started pounding on him again, making him laugh all over again.
"Come on, let's get out of here before my dad starts thinking unnecessary things." He said, when his laughing fits subsided, and opened the curtains. He was momentarily blinded, but when his eyes adjusted, he looked to his right and it's as if everything went on slow motion.
She also looked at him, and their eyes met.
They were the exact same shade... A vibrant green, shining like jewels.
She was like an exact replica of Roxy.
Was this still just his mind playing tricks on him? His father thought she looked like Roxy too, right? So it's really not just him? What could this mean?
Everything stopped going on slow motion when she started talking. "I had fun. Really. Except for the part where you ruined my dinner, but I guess I'll let that pass." She said, rolling her eyes playfully.
When he didn't respond, she peered at him. "Are you okay?" she asked, worried.
He went back to his senses, and coughed. "Y-yeah." He stuttered out. He wasn't about to tell the girl she looked like his dead bestfriend.
That's not exactly on the guide book: How to Make a Friend 101.
She gave him a strange look for a while, but then she probably decided to shrug it off. "Anyway, I had a great time. I hope I see you if ever there's a party again. You know, grumble together about how awful the party's been, and all that stuff." She said, and waved.
"Bye, Ashton, see you next time." She said, giving him one last smile. He waved.
"Bye, Adrienne." He replied, quietly.
She walked away, and with her, went his happiness.
He was all alone again. He turned to walk away.
Then something tugged at his mind.
How did she know my name?
He didn't remember her asking for it. Nor did he remember giving it.
Then he realized his father must have said it one time or another when he was humiliating him in front of the girl.
He scowled at the thought of his father.
He turned back and saw her. She was already beside Michael Lewey, with his arm around her waist.
He didn't even know her that well, but he already missed her.
Author's Note:
Hey everybody. Well, for all the months I neglected this story, here's one very long chapter for all of you to munch on. A chapter dedicated to Ashton, who by the way, is one of my favorite characters ever in everything I've written (I know I've only got two stories posted here, but I've written a lot more on notebooks, which are not exactly internet-worthy, so I didn't bother posting )...
Anyway, hopefully, you got to understand Ashton more. :) Yeah, he's not just a happy-go-lucky LOL. Hope you guys liked this one. Because I had fun writing this, seriously. Don't you enjoy finding out the views of other characters once in a while? :D Hahaha.
Okaaaay. Reviews please~ I really want to know what you thought about this one! :D
Advance thanks! I love you guys!
-Jessi