𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐫, 𝐉𝐉 | 𝐉𝐉 𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤

08. impotent children.

E I G H T
impotent children.

Wes' parents had long since come back, although he and his parents never really crossed paths with Otto and Wes.

She liked it.

She thought Marjorie was nice, quite and comforting. A little like her own mother, but she had a hint of - not arrogance - but it was very clear she grew up with wealth and she was uncomfortable around people who weren't wealthy.

Horace didn't hide his elitism, it was out in the open and he wanted people to know about it. He wanted them to see his life, all the fancy cars, designer suits and holidays 99% of the population couldn't even dream of, and he wanted them to be jealous.

It was like he got some sick satisfaction that people struggled while he didn't.

Otto found it disgusting.

Sure, she was wealthy, her father owned a large housing development company, one he started from the ground up. But he always made a point to help those who struggled, he built houses in countries with people who couldn't afford them and he made sure to donate to homeless organisations. He was very passionate about everyone having access to a roof over their heads, it was how he tried to contribute.

Otto perched on the end of Wes' bed, she was starting to feel less nauseous something she was extremely glad about.

Wes, his parents and some friends of theirs who lived New York that had come down to visit for dinner. Otto had asked to go home, to see her family.

Wesley shot that down so quickly, he believed his dinner was far more important than her dying father.

So there she was, sitting on the end of his bed in a hideous dress he picked out in an incorrect size he assumed she was. It was about three sizes too big and absolutely swallowed her, she decided on safety pining the back so she didn't accidentally flash anyone at the dinner table.

The repercussions of that would be horrendous.

Wesley walked out of the steamy bathroom, his hair was slicked back, he always used way too much gel, and he was dressed in a suit that made him look really good.

"I told you to wear makeup."

Otto bite the inside of her lip, "I am wearing makeup."

He scanned her face, she knew what he was thinking, she looked bad.

Instead if commenting on it he reached out his hand and gripped hers, the pair walked down together and into the grand dining room.

Once again the dinner was run by the men, they did all the talking and eight women may have collectedly said a dozen words. And all of those words concerned food, if anyone wanted seconds, was their partner happy with the food, was the food bad, or cold?

Otto, however, had a bad feeling.

Her phone, which sat on her lap, began buzzing. The first time everyone brushed it off, but then there was the second time, and the third time, and after the forth time, Wesley snatched it off her lap and leaned into her ear.

"What have I told you about embarrassing me? Have you learned nothing?"

He treated like an impotent child.

Otto said nothing, she just moved around her full plate with her fork. The wrong fork.

Her parents never concerned themselves with what spoons and forks where meant to be used with what. It just seemed a little boring.