Heartbeats

prologue

I ride my bike around New York, watching the tourists and the bustling streets as I pass by. This city's full of life, it always made me wonder why I ever stayed. Arriving at my dad's office, I lock up my bike and make my way up to the reception area. "Hey Monica! How's little Teddy doing?" I greet, Monica's been working here ever since I was a kid. Always stocked up with my favorite lollipop flavor, green apple. 

"He's doing amazing, James. Thanks for the toys you sent for his birthday. He loves it." She replied, cheery as always. I smile as a reply and I make my way to the elevators. Pressing the button, I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Grabbing my anxiety meds from my backpack, I take a pill and swallow it. Time to face the devil.

  "Well, well, well. The Prodigal Son has decided to come by." My father said with venom in his voice. His office reeks of whiskey, that damn son of a bitch is drinking again. He has an anger streak and alcohol definitely doesn't help. 

"I see you've been drinking again, father dear. What your business failing again?" I say, taunting him. It was always a pleasure getting in my father's nerves. Clenching my fists, my heart beating faster than usual. My therapist reminded me that I should distance myself from my father, though a part of me doesn't want to. Nothing changes the fact that he is my dad, the man has been through hell since losing mom and I couldn't leave him.

"Sometimes I wish you would've just killed yourself, less problems. You are certainly a waste of oxygen and money, dear son." He chuckles. Then something ticked within him like a time bomb, he clutched his whiskey, and eventually hurling it to the wall shattering it to pieces. Glass shards fall to the floor and the whiskey creating a puddle.

He pulls himself up from his desk, limply walking towards me. "You are one of my biggest failures, I wouldn't have lost her if it wasn't for you." He spits, his breath smelling of whiskey. I clench my fists, trying to stop myself from beating him up.

"There was never a day that you didn't remind me of that!" I stand up from my seat and stagger my way closer to him. God, I want to fucking shove my fist in his face. "Don't you ever forget that you were the fucking reason I lost her!" He points his finger at me, his eyes holding the pain that I've seen everyday since losing mom.

Noticing my action, he raises his fist. Anticipating for what is about to come, I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Into your nose. Out of your mouth. His fist lands on my cheek, and the pain radiates through my entire face. Dad fell to his chair, looking puzzled as he stares at me. I dialed his assistant on the telephone. "Hey Ross, can you call the driver to bring dad back home? he's drunk a lot and he needs to rest."

Ross came into the room to assist my dad. "You okay, James?" He asks me as he notices the growing bruise on my cheek. I nod, trying to smile through the pain. My dad limps on the way out, his arm slung around Ross' shoulder. Frustrated, I run my hand through my hair and pace around the room. 

Wiping the blood from my cheek that came from the cut that his ring made. I rummage my bag o retrieve my phone. "Hello? James?" The voice of my best friend, Casper echoes from the phone speaker. "Uh H-Hey, man. Something came up and I don't think I'll be attending class today" My voice sullen, he probably got the clue that my dad was throwing a tantrum again. "Did that asshole punch you again?" Casper and I have known each other since we were snotty 6-year old. From then on, we were inseparable.

I walk out of dad's office a few minutes later catching a cab to Raff's bar. I need a fucking drink.

The bell rang when I walked into the bar, catching Raff's attention. Raff is the owner and the best fucking bartender in the city. He's been one of my closest friend and confidants throughout the years.

"What the fuck happened to you gorgeous face, Kensington?" He bellows, I guess he noticed the bruise on my cheek. He gestured for me to sit down on the counter giving me an ice pack. I wince from the touch of the ice pack on my cheek. There wasn't much people at the bar during the day, so it was pretty quiet. 

"Looks like you need a drink." Raff said, no fucking shit, Sherlock. 

Some time passed and I am now shit-faced drunk. Is it too early? Yes. But when your dad uses you as a human punching bag , you'd end up as a fucking alcoholic by now. My face is resting on the bar counter and I am on the verge of falling asleep. Then I hear the bell from behind me, not enough to catch my attention though. I hear the chair next to me scrape on the floor.

"One vodka tonic, please." A feminine voice from next to me said. Well that was enough to catch my attention. I raised my head from the counter and look at the woman beside me. Fuck me. She's the most beautiful being I have ever seen.

"What are you lookin' at, handsome?"

A/N:  Sort of cliffhanger? though you guys probably know who it is lol.