THE SMITHS

Chapter Forty

[FIVE YEARS LATER]
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"But I want to be an artist!"

"You are going to business school, Byron and that's it!"

"But I don't even have any interest in business, Dad, are you even listening to me?!"

"And are you talking back at me, Byron?" Byron finally looks down at his feet at that, the fire in his eyes dimming as he clasps his hands behind himself.

"Sorry Dad. It just seems like there's no other way to get you to listen to me." He utters lowly. Mr Smith raises a brow.

"I can't believe this. It's like you just got even more unruly out there. Now, let me ask you this, why on earth would you want to be an artist when we have businesses to run? Over ten growing companies under the family name and you say you have no interest in them? Who then do you expect to look after those companies?" The man shakes his head, incredulous, "I mean....look at your older brother."

Byron rolls his eyes at that, his lips drawing into a thin unimpressed line. His father was notorious for his inability to start and finish a conversation without dragging his 'perfect' older brother into it.

“Cameron has never troubled me the way you do. You only just returned from the States and we're already back at this, do you not get tired?"

'Very expensive coming from you, Dad' Byron has the urge to say, but he overcomes it, opting to suck a harsh breath in instead, choosing his next words to sound more placating, just wanting to be done with this.

"Dad, I really do not mean it the way you're taking it. I just don't have an interest in business. I know what I want for myself and..... Business, running a company is not it."

Maybe it was delivered wrongly because the words only seemed to anger the older Smith even more as he shuts his eyes with a scoff. It takes a while, -which Mr Smith uses to do a few breathing exercises so as to not lash out at his son- and when the man speaks again, it was with finality.

"You will be going to business school." When Byron makes to open his mouth again, his Dad resumes speaking, not letting him. "Why can't you learn from your brother? He started knowing nothing about it too but look at him now, do you not want to take some weight off his shoulders when you're older at least?"

Byron notes how his own father was taking on a more gentle tone too but he really couldn't be bothered to acknowledge it, having had enough of being continuously compared with his brother.

"Can we just have ONE, just one conversation without you bringing Cameron into it!"

"No." The oldest Smith replies swiftly, "No, we cannot, if you're going to continue being such a child and avoiding your responsibilities. I will keep bringing him up because you should strive to be more like him. He’s taking his studies seriously all while being actively involved with the business. And here you are telling me you want to be an artist? Do you think the world out there is a joke?"

"But I'm-"

"Enough, Byron!" The voice of his father, heavy with his anger and disappointment has Byron falling silent immediately. He says nothing further, watching as his father looked like he just aged a few more years just talking to him. The oldest Smith massages his forehead for about a minute and casts his son one last disappointed gaze before walking out of the room.

Byron is left standing dumbly in the middle of the room, stewing in his own anger. His fingers ball up and release continuously as he sucks in so many deep breaths that he loses count. The sound of shuffling has his head whipping up. The sight he is greeted immediately has Byron's expression and heart softening.