EDITED/REVISED 5/18/2020

2.

Nick wasn't anywhere to be seen.

I stood at the entrance of the school, dressed in my bedraggled school uniform. The collar was stiff and irritating against my sweaty neck. I had opted out of taking a shower in favor of getting food as quickly as possible.

Around me, students were scattered around the school grounds. I lived in an influenced neighborhood, that much was obvious from all the luxurious cars rolling in and out of the school parking lot. The show of status did not sit well with me. From personal experience, most of these parents neglected their children and made up for it by purchasing a flashy car.

My parents were that way.

While they expected much, they rarely supported me, they were rarely there. Instead, they bought me plenty of things to make up for their absence. I didn't want or need the things my parents purchased me, but I wasn't about to be ungrateful. I sold most the things my father gave me in order to save money for art utensils and create a separate account for college.

My mother and my father thought I was going to Harvard.

They had no idea I was planning to go to Los Angeles to study art and join the track team.

"Conti."

I scuffed the toe of my shoe as I turned and leveled Romano with a cool and impassive stare. I looked around him, noticing Nick's absence. The man was actually by himself. Even if I hadn't known Romano for very long, it was strange seeing him stand solo without my brother's bulk-like body next to him.

"Mr. Romano." I struggled to address him so respectfully, but because he insisted I call him 'Lucian' at dinner last week, I figured ignoring his insistence would be just as equally as irritating to him.

He was dressed in a smartly-tailored suit with a charcoal-colored tie. I wondered if the man ever relaxed. Even his posture was upright and proper. He looked too young to be consumed by the strict life of business. Even if I was required to dress in a school uniform, I pulled it off in a careless manner. It was ruffled with deep wrinkles and a few paint-stains on the trousers. The cuffs were showing and the tie was hanging uselessly around my neck. My mother would go senseless if she saw my appearance.

"Lucian," he corrected, stepping closer. "Your brother had something come up. I agreed to take you out for your honorary dinner."

Pushing the deep disappointment away, I averted my eyes to nothing in particular and breathed deeply. Fuck, my brother's sudden no-show shouldn't have hurt as much as it did. By now, I would have thought I'd be used to it. "Alright," I agreed cautiously. Any other occasion I would have refused the man's invitation, but I was starving. Even food with him sounded appealing. "Do you mind if I drive?"

I didn't trust him. And I wouldn't be getting in a car with him without any control.

He seemed to understand my logic and gave a bitter smile. "By all means, lead the way."

Giving him a once-over, I turned my back and led him away from the school and into the parking lot. For sprouting all the complaints about my parents, and how they liked to substitute emotional love for material love, I felt ashamed of my car.

It was the only thing that I would allow myself to treasure. While not nearly as expensive and flashy as the other cars, it was still a treasured possession. It was a black Mercedes-AMG GT 4-door coupe, sleek, and so beautiful. It didn't matter that it had been purchased a few days after my sixteenth birthday because my parents had forgotten about my birthday during one of their business trips.

Romano raised his eyebrows, assessing the car. "Handsome car," he praised lowly.

Throwing my backpack in the trunk, I slammed it shut and looked over at the man. He had his hands in his pockets, looking as casual and nonchalant as someone could possibly pull off. "You like it?" I raised my eyebrows, turning my attention back on my car. "I'm selling it soon. If you're interested, let me know."

And if he was buying it, I would jack the price up.

Why not? The man even smelt of money.

Without waiting for an answer, I climbed inside the car, reluctantly waiting for the other man to climb in the passenger seat. He was able to fall into his seat with a ridiculous amount of grace and refinery.

"You're getting rid of it?" he inquired skeptically. "Looking for a pricier model?"

The insulted and ugly snort coming from my mouth was answer enough for him. Nonetheless, I decided I would give a coherent response. "No, that's not it at all."

"I didn't think this was your type of car anyway, even if it is decent eye-candy," Romano continued easily, as if he couldn't hear my insulted tone. Or maybe he was just ignoring it.

"Oh?" I started the car and the radio began blaring. A part of me wanted to keep the volume at its current level, to drown him and any conversation attempts of conversation, out. In the end, I grudgingly turned it down. If Tony was here, he wouldn't have minded it being loud. "And what do you think my type of car is?"

"Your personality is coarse, untamed." He gave a pointed look at my ruffled uniform. "I'd say you are more of a Porsche man." Before I could snort again, this time in amusement, he continued. "Of course, you're also laid back, nonchalant. You like to defy the rich, even if you are the rich. I'd imagine you would get something that could barely run, one that was covered with rust. Just as a bold protest against your birthright. You'd be as happy as punch."

I paused, staring at the windshield.

He seemed so sure, so confident. "Well," I started, clearing my throat and avoiding his knowing, smug expression. "I'd picture your car to be a Dodge Viper."

Fucking snake.

The man laughed as we drove out of the parking lot.

"A Viper," Romano said, cocking his head to the side in cool approval. "Try a Bentley."

Of course, he'd have a Bentley. "Ah," I exclaimed, "That was my second guess."

His lips twisted in delight at my response. "I don't own a Bentley out of personal preference, it comes with the company." He adjusted the seatbelt around his chest and looked at me through lowered lids. "Tell me, why are you planning on getting rid of your car?"

My plan of staying in stony silence crumbled. Romano didn't seem all that bad. Surprisingly, he was asking things about me rather than assuming. While Nick wasn't as bad as our parents, he seemed to listen to them and was blinded by their opinion. He just…assumed. "I'm going away to college in the fall or summer," I admitted as I turned down a busy street. "I don't want a car on campus."

"Nick tells me you're going to Harvard. But is that more of your parents' expectations rather than your own?" Romano seemed to sense my reluctance to talk about the situation. "If it makes you feel more at ease, I promise I won't tell your brother. Things discussed this evening will remain between the two of us."

Glancing over, I locked eyes with his dark gaze. "No, I'm not going to Harvard or Stanford or any other fucking Ivy League school." I grinned at the road. "I'm going to attend Los Angeles, California."

"All away across the country," Romano commented tightly. His tone suggested he wasn't very impressed with the information. "Do your parents at least have a suspicion?"

"Of course not." My grin widened at the very idea of informing my parents knowing. I happened to glance in my rearview mirror, noticing two sleek cars following behind me. As I turned a corner, they followed in hot pursuit. If they were trying to subtly follow, they weren't doing a very good job of it. "What exactly do you do again?" I asked, changing the subject.

Romano glanced at the passenger mirror, surveying the two cars trailing behind. With a sigh, he offered a cool voice. "I apologize. My father owns a large business and he has security constantly guarding the members of the family. Just ignore them." Skillfully, he changed the subject. "Where are you taking me, little Conti?"

I answered him despite the change of subject. I guess we were all allowed to avoid conversations we didn't like.

"A small burger joint, it's a family-owned business…" I paused. "Unless you are against going into a place that charges less than five dollars a meal…" Knowing Romano, which I didn't, but suspected, he would be familiar with thirty-dollar dishes and the glass of wine that put an average person's monthly income to shame.

"I have no problem with it." He chuckled. "It's been awhile since I've been inside a…burger joint."

I laughed.

The words sounded foreign on his tongue and I suspected he hadn't been at a burger joint ever.

As soon as we pulled into a parking spot, the two black cars slowly pulled to the side of the road in front of the restaurant. I all but scrambled out of the car, locking it behind me as Romano and I made our way to the front door. I felt a little unnerved, though it dissipated as we entered the diner.

The simple and familiar structure with its warm colors was welcoming.

It was small, confined, but clean and unique.

I plopped down at the far stool at the counter and Romano settled next to me. His upper torso was broader than mine and our shoulders brushed. I tried not to notice. "It must suck," I started the conversation ineloquently as I grabbed the menu from the basket. I already knew what I wanted, but the laminated card gave me something to keep me occupied. "To be followed all the time. To be watched."

"It's a burden," the man conceded, "but it's necessary, I suppose." Romano took special interest in watching the cook behind the counter. He didn't seem particularly pleased to be talking about the security and I knew when not to push. "What would you suggest ordering?" The dark-haired man tore his eyes away from the cook and down to the menu.

He didn't look too long at the list of specials before his eyes danced over to me again.

I turned uneasy at the intensity of his stare. No one had ever looked at me. Not like that. Sitting this close to him, I couldn't help but to think he was handsome, or, at least passable. I didn't consider myself gay, but I was confident enough with myself to admit he was attractive. Then again, Romano was the kind of man who knew he was attractive. He almost looked too handsome, too delicate, but his eyes and body posture spoke differently. He was dangerous and he could take care of himself.

"Afton?" His lips parted into a knowing smile.

I blinked, sneering at myself. "Sorry. For staring."

Romano chuckled, sounding pleased at my abrupt admittance. "You are amusing, little one." He continued to study me as if he were looking for something.

"The classic burger is great," I muttered, finally answering his earlier question before I could make an even bigger idiot of myself. "And the fries…" I trailed off, this time, drooling over the prospect of food and not over the man sitting next to me.

The small burger shop wasn't occupied by many people tonight. A small family sat in the back enjoying a dinner. I turned my head, observing them silently. They seemed happy-go-lucky as they argued and laughed amongst each other.

"Your parents…" Romano hinted after turning to see what caught my attention. "They weren't at your track meet."

I found myself giving a bitter laugh. Talk about conversations that were best left to rot. "No, they have more important things to do. Like I said earlier at the track, they aren't into sports." I tried to defend them and see it from their perspective. It wasn't really hard, not when I've been doing it since a child. They were busy. "Running, especially, isn't that thrilling to watch."

"I found it rather relaxing. Your movements are fluid and graceful," he said lowly. "It's a pity they don't encourage you with what you enjoy doing. Have you discussed this with them?"

"It's nothing," I denied sharply.

If he could end conversations about mysterious security detail, then I could end this pointless discussion as well.

"Afton, my dear!" a woman cried with delight.

I perked up from my seat, watching as the owner's wife danced out from the kitchens. She was a heavy-set woman with flaming red hair. Her smile was contagious, which was half the reason I came here. Whenever I needed cheering up, she would be my remedy. And whenever Tony accompanied me, he always enjoyed flirting with her, which was an added bonus in itself.

She reached over, pinching my left cheek. Hard. "You look very handsome today. It's like I haven't seen you in ages!"

I looked like shit. And it had only been last week since I'd last seen her. Nonetheless, I knew not to argue. No one could win an argument with her. Tony tried countless of times before and failed. "Hello Mrs. Wilson." I rubbed my cheek, glancing sideways at Romano. The man was eyeing the woman with a hint of curiosity.

"None of that, boy, call me Julie. And who is this?" Julie raised her eyebrows, casting an appreciative look at Romano.

Before I could introduce Romano, the man jumped in and fluently did so himself.

"Lucian Romano, it's nice to meet you." The man seemed to be more pleasant with her than he had been with my parents.

The woman took a hold of his offered hand, casting me a wink. I blanched. "He's Nick's boss, Julie." I used her first name in order to get her attention away from ogling at Romano. It was disturbing. "Nick had other plans tonight so Mr. Romano decided he would come with me to dinner." I stressed Lucian's professional title.

"Call me Lucian, Afton," the man corrected for what seemed like the umpteenth time that night.

Julie gushed silently, eyeing me as if… as if… oh fuck. She actually thought I was seeing Romano. I wasn't gay. Why did everyone assume that? Granted, I had difficulty dating girls, but that was because there was an unspoken rule among females that they wouldn't date shorter men. Honestly, I would grow.

I would.

"The usual for you, Afton?" she cooed.

"Yeah, hold the milkshake." I replied a bit grumpily.

As Romano ordered the same, Julie all but glided back to the kitchen.

"Afton," the man started, adjusting his position on his stool to give me his undivided attention. "What if I asked you to consider working for me? I believe you'd make a good addition."

With my forehead on my open palm, I threw Romano a sullen look. "This is why you wanted to come with me tonight? I'm not like my brother, you know, I plan to attend college before I settle on a career."

It hadn't really crossed my mind before, but the more I considered it, the more it seemed expected. Romano had snagged Nick when he was young, before he even had a chance to explore his options. And maybe the man thought I would bring the same qualities to his business that my brother did.

"No." Romano leaned forward and abruptly grabbed my wrist, forcing my attention back on him. "I wanted to get to know you better." He cocked his head, looking pensive. "Your presence is rather… unique. You aren't like any of the others I'm with all day. After a stressful day, it's nice to relax. That is why I agreed to come here with you." He leaned even closer.

"I'm not gay." I blurted out.

Did the man really think I was that easy?

Romano blinked before breaking out into a predatory grin and a surprised laugh. "Can't I enjoy your presence without it being sexual?"

I noticed he didn't indicate whether he was gay or not. "Sorry," I grumbled, realizing I may have jumped to conclusions. "You're right, of course." Before I could dig myself deeper into a hole, Julie came bustling out of the kitchen, balancing our food in her hands.

"Here you are… two classics." She winked at me again before bustling over to the other customers.

I couldn't even find it in myself to be annoyed with her flirtatious implications when the food was right in front of me. I bit eagerly into my hamburger, nearly inhaling it before I realized I was in public. It took some restraint, but I was able to slow down and make myself look like I had manners.

Against my better judgment, I began to think more about what Romano had said earlier. He wasn't old. In fact, he looked only a few years older than myself and Nick. If what he said was true, about his father owning a business and the constant security, then I could understand why he would want to be around someone he could unwind with. The man had been stiff and proper, almost cold and unfeeling at my parents' dinner. Even if the man still appeared frosty, he seemed to have lightened up a bit with me.

If I didn't have Tony, I wouldn't know how I would have survived all these years.

"Does it bother you?" I asked cautiously. "Being in your father's business and having to be professional all the time?" I looked pointedly at his stiff and flashy suit.

He considered the question before offering me a glance. "A few years ago, I would have said it bothered me, but I find myself enjoying my father's business more every day. But with every stressful job comes the need for an escape." Romano's dark eyes concentrated on me. "I think you have a subconscious ability to make me forget about the chaotic world for just a few minutes. You are a very calming and non-judgmental individual."

Well. If I knew he was going to give me such a straight-forward answer like that, I wouldn't have asked.

Personally, I didn't think I was laid back. Tony had a tendency to call me a tight-wad. And I was definitely judgmental. I just didn't verbally express my opinions very often. "I know all about escapes from reality." I decided to play along, but made sure to avoid touching on his second admission. "My life certainly isn't as hectic as your own, but I… er…I enjoy drawing to take my mind off things."

I avoided looking directly at him as I munched on a fry. Confessing my private interests to him seemed bizarre, especially when I was cursing him mentally not minutes prior.

No one but Tony knew I drew.

I protected my hobby with overzealous selfishness.

From the corner of my eye, I watched his eyebrows rise. "You draw?" He threw a lopsided smirk. "Are you any good?"

Turning to him, I scoffed. "I'm the next Vincent Van Gogh." I grinned when he was polite enough to chuckle at the lame joke. "Are you going to eat that?" I jerked my chin toward his untouched hamburger. Obviously, he had seen the grease staining the paper underneath it and wanted nothing to do with it. "I promise the grease will only burn your fingers for a second. You should worry more about Julie coming over to guilt trip you into clearing your plate."

For good measure, Romano glanced at Julie who prowled the tables behind us. He seemed hesitant to try the damn burger but ended up picking it up. Grease dipped down his fingers but he did a remarkable job holding it as far away from him as possible.

I watched him, finding the whole thing amusing.

His hesitant expression morphed into surprise as he chewed the burger. "It's definitely passable."

"P-passable?" I stuttered, astonished. "You've tasted a better burger before?"

If he had, I'd like to know the place he dined out.

He placed the burger back in the basket before hurriedly wiping his hands with the napkin. An air of cool nonchalance played his face as he wiped between his fingers and abolished the grease. "No, I'm not too fond of American food." Onyx caught my eyes and held them there. "I can honestly say I have never tasted a better hamburger. But once you've tried my Madre's Italian food, you'll have trouble finding anything else as delicious."

There had always been something off about his accent.

He didn't talk like a typical Jersey citizen and I had subconsciously noticed and wondered what it was. When he said 'Madre', it finally clicked. He was fluent in Italian, but the Italian accent was veiled under what seemed to be the accent of a New Yorker.

"You'll have to try her cooking," Romano continued, playing it safe by eating his fries and bypassing the burger. Julie would be displeased. "She'd love to meet you."

Before I could respond, the restaurant door opened. The two men were most likely not customers with their slack expressions and their black suits. Romano turned to see what had caught my attention. He immediately transformed into the cold and impassive man I remembered from last week's awkward, family dinner.

"What is it?" Romano hissed quietly to the men as soon as they got within range. "I told you not to interrupt me tonight."

"Sorry, sir," one man muttered gruffly, eyeing me. "But your father called. He needs you as soon as possible. Something's come up."

Romano's lips thinned before he turned to me.

I waved my hand, refusing to look at him. Something's come up was definitely a standard in my life. I seemed to hear it at least twice a day. "Go, I'm fine." As much as I hated to admit it, I had been enjoying the man's presence. But I was suddenly struck with the realization that he was just like the rest of them. He had a job and it consumed his life completely.

Romano stood, appearing grim. He waved his bodyguards away, leaning toward me. "I'll make it up to you, little Conti."

"Oh?" I offered a bittersweet smile. "Don't worry about it, Mr. Romano. You're busy. It is a sentiment I am very familiar with."

He didn't look very happy at my dismissal reassurances. "I'm sure you are used to it, Afton, and I apologize. I assure you, the next time we're together, it won't happen again."

I don't know why he thought there would be a next time.

Looking at his sincere expression, I simply nodded once. "Alright," I responded lightly, as if yielding to him.

Rather suddenly, Romano leaned forward and caged me against the counter. His arms were on either side of my torso as he leaned closer. "And there will be a next time, Afton." He was a mind reader. I was sure of it. "Please, give me your phone number." He leaned away from me, pulling out his cell phone.

I paused, staring at the sleek phone. The latest model, obviously. Looking back up at Romano, I gave him a number. Little did the man know that I was giving him Tony's number. It was the only number beside my own that I knew by heart.

Once he stored the number in his phone, he tucked the cell back in his inner breast pocket and studied me critically. "This had better be your phone number, Afton. If it isn't, rest assured I will hunt you down as soon as I find out otherwise."

I wasn't easily intimidated.

But Romano did a job well-done by pitching his voice threateningly. For a second, I almost considered giving him my real number, but thought against it. He was hardly going to 'hunt me down'. Instead, I nodded numbly, watching as he placed a fifty-dollar bill on the counter and turned to the exit.

As I turned back to the counter, I slumped forward and played with a fry.

I don't understand why I was so upset with him for leaving. After all, he was Nick's boss for fuck's sake. I didn't even know the man. Lucian Romano had turned out to be a decent man to get along with when he had relaxed a bit, but I couldn't see him again. He intrigued me, drew me in, but I couldn't be second to career again.

M.R.

That night, I was in my bedroom abandoning my homework in favor of drawing.

My parents were at a business meeting tonight, leaving me home alone. I pigged out on a cartoon of ice cream, not touching the vegetables and pre-cooked chicken in the refrigerator.

As I examined the drawing, my cell phone began to ring. My heart skipped a beat as I stared at the vibrating device. Romano couldn't have gotten my number already, unless he had called Tony and had demanded my number from him. Somehow, I could see Romano being threatening enough that Tony would easily give out my number.

Earlier that night, when I had left the diner, I noticed the car trailing me all the way home. I wasn't flattered or impressed knowing that Romano felt the need to send one of his bodyguards after me to make sure I arrived home safely. Instead of security detail making me feel secure, it had made me feel vulnerable.

As I leaned over to look at the caller, I sighed in relief when I realized who it was.

"Nick," I greeted darkly as I put it on speaker and continued to draw.

"Afton," Nick sighed over the other end, relieved to hear me pick up. "How are you doing? How was… dinner?"

I paused, wondering if this was the start of Nick apologizing for not being there. "Beside your boss trying to eat me for dessert, it went well." I rolled my eyes at both the lame joke and the heavy silence coming from my brother. "Really, Nick, it went fine. The only reason I went was because I was starving. And because you had other plans."

"Sorry, I'll make it up to you," he replied distractedly. "Afton, did…did he want to see you again? Did he say anything about seeing you after tonight?" He was nervous and his voice was almost too quiet to hear properly.

Squinting at the far wall in bemusement, I wondered at my brother's odd behavior. "He mentioned something like that, yeah. Why do you ask? You don't need to worry, I don't plan on seeing him again. I—"

But Nick cut me off as he inhaled sharply, cursing colorfully underneath his breath. "Listen Afton, I have to go, but I wanted to warn you. Just stay far away from Luciano if you can, alright?"

I dropped my pencil, frowning. "Are we talking about the same man here? The very same one you, mom, and dad worship? I thought you would be giddy over the fact that we were getting along so well."

He grunted. "He's obviously taken a special interest in you, Afton. His attention isn't…exactly the best. Just…" he sounded preoccupied. "Please, give me your word you'll try your best to avoid him, alright? For me? For…your own safety?" It was only a second of silence, but Nick was impatient. "Afton!" Nick yelled into the phone. "Give me your word."

"Alright, alright, you have my word. Fuck."

The line went dead.

Blinking, I stared at my cell phone before tossing it a bit further away. I decided not to think on what just transpired. Instead, I continued on my drawing, mentally counting down the days until I left for California.