Purely An Act of Survival

Get your priorities right

“What kind of trash am I being tonight?” 

He quietly whispers to himself. 

It had been roughly two weeks since he'd last seen the tarantula in the bathroom after he re-awakened his previous life's memories. In that time, his father's ‘demand’ caught him completely off guard and Cale had to turn it down no matter what the price was. 

“I want you to go to the capital for the crown's celebration.” 

“What? No. Send Basen.” 

“Cale. You are going to the capital.” 

“I do not understand what part of this conversation do you find right! Isn't this an important meeting?” Cale clenched his teeth, he couldn't believe what he was hearing right now. 

It was an obvious attempt planned by the Crown Prince to create connections with the new generation. He had clearly sent the invitations for heirs to come to the King's birthday celebration and Cale wasn't going to take that lightly. 

There is absolutely no fucking way Cale was going all the way to the capital in a move to declare to the entire kingdom that the next head of the Henituse family was going to be the lout of an eldest son. Cale was the garbage lout, the disgrace, the disappointment to the family and he has held that title for a very long time. 

So his father is going to have adjust to this behaviour of his and think carefully of his own poorly made decisions. He's currently having those right now. Why would his father send him then? To destroy their reputation? Nuh-uh. That wasn't going to happen. 

Cale has worked for over ten years, and had just about two goals in life that had kept him from jumping out of a window and possibly killing himself. One, that is the Henituse family's safety, their happiness, and their success. Two, Cale's peaceful life and wealth. For that to happen, Basen has to become the heir one way or another, that's why Cale must be kept away in important events such as the King's celebration at the capital. 

Ehem. Hmm. THE KING'S CELEBRATION. 

DO YOU GET IT?! CALE MUST NOT ATTEND IT. 

And now, with his face buried in his palms to help minimize stress (it doesn't), he asked himself that momentarily suggestive question. 

Cale did manage to get into a bar fight last night, resulting in a scar on his waist that wasn't going to fade anytime soon, but his injury alone wasn't enough to change the mind of his STUBBORN and FOOLISH father. 

..... Should he get beaten half to death? 

Actually, he might consider that thought. 

Don't be concerned. Cale wasn't an insane person. To be fair— if you were ready and willing to do insane things just to get your way in life, wouldn't you also be this desperate? 

“Are you heading out?” 

“Yes.” 

It was almost past 9pm. This was the time where most people would be at bars after a long day of work, or be at home to go to sleep. Cale planned to do the opposite and cause a ruckus yet again. 

It is never too late to restrict his hand, father.

With that one thought in mind, Cale was set and ready to go. 

*~*

“Mister Tuncan, what's the most effective way to let go of someone's grip?” 

The low whisper from the Young Master Cale caught him completely off guard. Tuncan was serving the customers with their wine when suddenly the Lout of the Count spoke up in a unusual tone.