Entrapped . HS

TWO.

A month ago, I left Iva in Switzerland. She couldn't understand my loyalty to my family over myself (and therefore over her, too). Ultimately, she didn't want to do our relationship, and our life together, long distance for the next year, or perhaps five depending on where she got a job after finishing school. I didn't blame her, because I probably would have made the same decision if I was in her shoes. When my grandpa told me about the deal, I knew that it meant the end of my life as I knew it and that meant the end of the life I had dreamed up with her.

At least it was sweet while it lasted.

Before I knew it, I was moving to New York City against every fiber of my being. Most people loved this city and I used to, as well. Now, it was the place that I'd be trapped for the next 1,825 days.

- Dad: When do you land?

- Harris: 2:15 pm

- Dad: I'll pick you up.

- Harris: i can uber

- Dad: Just let me pick you up. I have something to show you.

- Harris: i'm tired can it wait?

- Dad: No. Of course it couldn't wait. I knew it was probably something to try and make the fact that I was living in my version of hell better.

- Harris: see you at 2:15

My dad and I had it out, more than once. I think when he finally realized that I was doing this so that our family could have our own legacy; one that didn't get taken away from him or my brothers, he changed from angry at me to forever grateful. He even let me choose my position at Sinclair. Though the artistic side of things would have been more in my wheelhouse, I didn't have any experience with graphic design programs and I couldn't fake it as well as I could being an editor. Declan and Law talked me into taking an editor position, even though that meant that I'd have the same job as Declan, who went to four years of school for it. They both teetered between being angry that I got handed a job and grateful that they still had jobs themselves. I knew that they were going to make my life a living hell once I officially started 'working' there, but Guin, Lane and Hannah had promised to try and keep them on their best behavior.

Dad pulled up in a black Audi to pick me up. The Audi was Asher's car, which until now had been sitting in the garage at my grandparents place upstate. "What happened to the SUV?" I asked him.

"I wanted to pick you up in your car."

"What do you mean?"

"Nobody is using it. It was Lawsons's idea. Seemed like a good car for you to use for the next little while, then you can sell it when you leave." I was thankful that dad continued to root for the end of my time at Sinclair. At least I wasn't the only one who was counting the days.

"Thanks. I guess," I said with as much joy as I was able to muster over the whole situation (which wasn't much). "Was this what you wanted to show me?"

"No. That's our next stop."

"Please tell me you didn't get me a place? I want to pick that out," I said, hoping that he didn't up and sign a lease for me at some stuffy shoebox sized studio next to the publishing house. I didn't want to live anywhere near Sinclair. I'd been looking into Brooklyn, just to get a little distance between my work life and my home life.

"I did not. Declan made sure to remind us how pissed you'd be if we chose your place for you."

"Thank god for that," I said, somewhat emotionless.

"What I do want to show you is just up here." We pulled into an alleyway in midtown and he exited the car and walked us up to the front door of an unassuming building. He entered a code that let us inside and then he entered another code at a freight elevator. When we reached the next floor, he walked us down a long hallway and stopped in front of a door marked #15.