Man of the Year (Drake Story)

Chapter Femten

For the first time in a very, very long while, I had a smile on my face.

A genuine one, not one that I was forced to put there due to my awkward placement in a social situation or my being introduced to someone who I really didn’t care tok now. I was smiling, all on my own, by my will, and it felt right. It felt like it was supposed to be there, like it was waiting for its invitation to arise from the depths it had been kept in during my times of sorrow. I was smiling.

I’d fixed it.

The predicament. The hole I was stuck in - someone threw down a ladder for me to climb out, and that ‘someone’ was Cyrus. I wasn’t stupid enough to think that this wouldn’t have extremely strange and inhumane consequences in the long run, but for now I was a little richer than I’m supposed to be, which meant I could invest in a good house. I had been waiting until I got back up to about twenty-five million in the bank before purchasing a place, but ten million would have to do. The mortgage wouldn’t be that bad. I could handle it. I wasn’t poor, after all. It was a perfect plan, a perfect solution to the ‘insolvable’ problem.

The entire mansion was affected by my new grin. The servants started having conversation amongst each other, saying hello when they passed by in the hallways and helping each other with small tasks. Madeleine helped out with the cooking. The newbies turned on some music and had a short dance party. William even loosened his tie. I didn’t want to come across as cocky for taking credit for the upliftment of the house, but it really was due to me. Happiness followed me wherever I went, marking its territory with each step I took. It wouldn’t be long before we all broke out into a musical about the essence of life and how fruitful it could be when you smiled a little bit.

And then I found her. Keziah.

My life wasn’t going to be long. This was a conclusion I came to long ago, something that didn’t scare me or sadden me. It was actually good news that I wouldn’t end up old, dry and tired of the same daily routine. I only knew it because of how young my dad died, and his father, and so on. The men in my family went out early, and I was hoping to keep the tradition going. So, while I was here, it only made sense to create a blaze in other people’s lives. Splurge for people. Do things for others that they will remember forever. I was young now , but responsibilities were already creeping up on me - Amanda and her baby myth, the house, my share of the will (wherever and whatever it was), defending my life. Honestly, I wasn’t as fond of Keziah as she would like me to be, but she was a treat. She was a breath of fresh air from all my problems, and she deserved recognition for that.  

“Hello, my love.” I greeted her in the hallway next to the kitchen, cupping her face to kiss her forehead softly. She giggled and blushed, as she always did whenever I touched her.

“Hello. What did you dream about that’s making you so jolly this morning?”

“Nothing. But they say when you have no dreams it means that you slept like a baby, so I guess that’s a good thing.”

“Well, I dreamt about you.” She winked at me. I knew that the odds of this being true were very slim, but I would play along anyway. Girls seemed to like to flatter their boyfriends even when what they were saying wasn’t true and wasn’t necessary in the first place. I would let her.

“Oh, really?” I asked. “Tell me more.”

Keziah slipped her arm into mine and began to stride down the hall with me, going over an intricate and x-rated dream of us that seemed to last forever. Finally, when she was done, and we were in the living room alone, I could get in my good news.

“I have something to tell you.” I said.

“Is it bad?” She pouted.

“No, no. Not at all. It’s the opposite.”

“Lay it on me.”

I held my breath and thought about her reaction. She would be overly excited, and a little bit skeptical (since it really was almost too good to be true), and then she would tell everybody else. Everybody else’s reactions would be to wonder how I did it in only three days, why I hadn’t done it sooner, and how long it would last. These were questions I asked myself when I did it, but they were questions I didn’t have time for. Like I said, my clock was ticking, and I wasn’t going to let myself get bored with this life.

“I bought us a house.”

The squeal that Keziah bellowed was loud enough to grab the attention of the entire house, making each and every one of our neighbors stop and look at us. I chuckled and so did she, and the rest of them followed suit, thinking maybe she’d heard a funny joke.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I’m serious,” I kept my smile.

“What do you mean you bought ‘us’ a house, though?”

“Well, I had enough money to get a mansion the size of my old one, and I’m not going to be in there alone again. It didn’t work out too well for me last time. So what better person to have in there with me than you?”

Keziah fanned her face with her hands dramatically. “You’re making me tear, Aubrey.” She pulled me into a hug that meant ‘yes’. It meant that she would move in with me and we would make this official. We’d escape this place. Everyone was here because Drake had a blackmail deal with them and/or because they couldn’t afford to live anywhere else. I was here for the first reason, and I believe Keziah was for the second, and I was her ticket out. Of course, there was nothing I could do to figure out why Belphoebe was trying to kill Cyrus that day or why Cyrus was trying to kill her or why Drake and Cyrus were trying to kill me, but at least I would be able to stress over these things in the comfort of my own home.

Soon, this was the news of the house. I was lucky that Drake was out for the day (Madeleine said he was looking at yachts). If he was here, this probably wouldn’t be a celebration. He’d make it feel evil, wrong, risky to leave. He wouldn’t prepare gifts for me like everyone else was doing, or sing to me, or give me any of his prized belongings to start our new home.

But Drake didn’t have to be home for there to be a bitter apple spoiling the bunch of happiness.

Belphoebe knew. There was no question about it - everyone did. But she refused to come out of her room. Madeleine begged her to once lunch time came, since we were all going to discuss the location of my new place (Beverly Hills) and when they’d be able to come and see it (the real estate agent I bought it from, who was a friend of Mr. Ramos - he’s the reason I got a place so quickly - said that there would be construction workers there putting finishing touches on the house for the next week, and it would be ready for me to live in unless I wanted to make any specific changes). Everyone was excited that I was finally getting out of this place, and they were excited that I was doing it wtih Keziah.

I wasn’t upset that Belphoebe didn’t take part, though. I kind of bought the house so quickly to upset her on purpose, anyway. I was upset when I found the money that Cyrus left me. I was upset that these rumors of Drake’s will were really true, and I knew that the reason Belphoebe shot Cyrus was to get his share of the money. She brought me along not for protection, but because she knew I had a soft spot for her, so if Cyrus had died that day, I would be a witness saying that she killed him in self defense. I’d make up any story to save her, and she tried to take advantage of that. It was a form of betrayal. Who’s to say taht if she succeeded in killing Cyrus, she wouldn’t come for me next? She was probably the least wealthy person here and the most angry one. Drake had probably done some scarring things to her over the years. Still, that didn’t give her a pass to go crazy for everyone’s money and put people’s lives in danger. For this reason alone, I didn’t go into her room and talk to her like Madeleine suggested I do. It wouldn’t make sense. I was trying to send her a message, and by ignoring her for that entire day, she got it. She understood.

I was done with her.