December 25 | Wednesday | Near the Mirth Motel
DANNY
Dan walked along the snow-covered street, heading toward the motel.
The pockets of his jacket didn’t offer much warmth, so he kept rubbing his hands together, trying to fight off the unpleasant, biting numbness.
He hadn’t taken his gloves when leaving Will’s house, nor a lot of other things.
Having packed in a hurry, he had chaotically tossed into his bag whatever he could get his hands on.
His biggest regret, however, was not taking any money, but he wasn’t going back for it. Not for anything. Ever.
He still couldn’t believe Will had done that to him.
He knew he hadn’t behaved as he should, that he’d said a bit too much, but to kick him out of the house for it?
Their relationship had been going sour for a while, but that was no excuse.
Will could have given him a week or two to get his act together.
Seriously, who kicked out their roommate right before Christmas?
Upon entering the motel, Dan almost let out a sigh of relief as his body registered the change in temperature. The relief vanished, however, the moment he saw the man sitting at the reception desk, who was eyeing him with a stern expression.
“Got the cash?” Thomas Mason asked aggressively. He was a scrawny, blond-haired guy of about thirty. The motel belonged to his father.
“Not yet,” Danny replied truthfully.
“You said you’d scrape something together in a few days!”
“I know, but I can’t right now. It’s Christmas.”
“Exactly,” Thomas stressed sternly. “It’s Christmas, and I’m letting you sleep in my motel. Do you think this is a homeless shelter? Fork over the money or grab your things and piss off.”
Dan heard the door open behind him, but he was too absorbed in the conversation to notice the new guests.
“Just give me a little more time, okay?” he asked in a low voice, approaching the desk. “A week at most!” he added, seeing the man’s expression. “I swear I’ll throw in something extra.”
“Oh yeah?” Thomas’s lips twisted into a sour smile. “And I think you’ll sit here for a week and then piss off. And I won’t get my payment or anything extra.”
“Please,” Dan whispered desperately. He hated groveling, but he had no other choice. “I have nowhere else to go.”
“Do I look like a charity? You don’t have the cash, so get the fuck out!”
This exchange was interrupted by a familiar, composed voice:
“Do you accept checks?”
Danny turned and saw Nathaniel Kubrick. The man was unmistakable. That characteristic purple hair, now almost blending in with his suit of the same color. If not for the dark, elegant coat, Kubrick would have looked like an eccentric supervillain ripped straight out of some superhero movie.
He was accompanied by an unusually tall woman with a tan complexion. She had long, perfectly straight blonde hair, blue eyes, and heavily painted, intensely red lips. Danny recognized her, too. Emma Gray. Kubrick’s personal assistant.
“Uhh… Sure,” Thomas confirmed, thrown off, only now paying any real attention to his guests.
Kubrick approached the desk. He took a checkbook and a pen from the inner pocket of his coat, then leaned over to write out the check.
“This sum should be enough to cover this young man’s debt,” he announced, handing the check to the receptionist.
“Well, it’s enough,” Thomas confirmed graciously. “For another month or so.”
Danny shot him an indignant look. He’d seen the amount Kubrick had written on the check, and it would have easily covered half a year of renting a cubbyhole in this smelly place.
“He won’t be staying here for a month. In fact, he won’t be staying here a day longer. Pack your things, Daniel.”
Dan swallowed nervously, not knowing how to react.
“Pack your things,” Kubrick repeated with more force.
It wasn’t a threat, not even a command; the man’s tone still held a note of politeness, yet Dan couldn’t bring himself to openly protest. He headed to his room. He stopped in the very center and took a few deep breaths, feeling the stress wash over him.
He wasn’t going to go with him. He wouldn’t do it.
Hurriedly packing his things, Dan went to the window. He tried to open it, but it wouldn’t budge—probably his own fault for thinking it was drafty and slamming it shut as hard as he could.
“Where are you going?” He heard a voice from behind him and spun around.
Kubrick was standing in the doorway, watching his actions intently.
“I’m not going with you,” Dan announced, forcing a firm tone.
“So you intend to stay here?”
“Not with your money.”
“From what I heard, you don’t have any of your own.”
Danny felt humiliated, but he couldn’t deny it. That didn’t mean he was going to accept charity, though. And knowing Kubrick, this wasn’t a gesture of goodwill, but a favor that would have to be repaid sooner or later.
“That guy said he isn’t a charity. Are you?” Dan scoffed.
“KC does support similar activities, yes,” Kubrick confirmed calmly, deliberately missing the point of the question.
“Ah.” Danny smiled sourly. “And the CEO personally appears in places where the needy are found to support them?”
“Officially, you are our intern.”
“No. I informed you I was quitting, I haven’t shown up in days, and I don’t recall requesting an intervention.”
“You made the decision to quit in a state of agitation caused, I believe, by my rather ill-considered request, which is why I ignored it,” Kubrick informed him, and Danny grimaced at the memory of that evening.
“You have no reason to turn down an internship at my company, Daniel. You know very well it’s a huge opportunity. ”
“Not for me. Because you don’t want me, you want Will.”
“Nonsense.”
Dan let out a snort of disbelief.
“I desired information about Will Morgan,” Kubrick clarified. “Information I intended to obtain firsthand, and when that failed, I was counting on your help.”
“I won’t help. I have no idea what you want from him, but I’m not going to be a snitch, okay? Besides, we’re not friends anymore.”
“Every relationship can be repaired.”
“No,” Danny objected firmly. “I know Will. After what I said to him, he’ll never speak to me again.”
That wasn’t true. He suspected that Will would reach out to him sooner or later. Maybe when he got bored of his new company. And even though he hated his guts right now, he hadn’t sunk so low as to stoop to being a common snitch. That’s why he would stay far away from him.
“So I guess I’ve become useless to you, haven’t I?”
“On the contrary,” Kubrick countered gently.
“I admit that when I offered you the internship, I was only interested in your close relationship with Morgan. But since I’ve gotten to know you, I’ve discovered you have far greater potential.
” Dan let out a furious scoff. Bullshit.
He had no potential, certainly not in the eyes of someone like Kubrick.
“If you do not wish to cooperate with me regarding Morgan… which is your right, though your loyalty is perplexing, considering you’re spending Christmas alone in a place like this…
” A grimace twisted Dan’s lips. “I will respect that. It is not the correct decision, but there are many matters you have no knowledge of, and which I cannot yet present to you, so it must be this way. Nevertheless, I want you on my team.”
Dan smiled mockingly. To think that not long ago he’d had a good opinion of this man.
Hell, for a short while, he’d even thought Kubrick cared about him.
Not romantically—his assumptions didn’t go that far—but he’d felt the man saw something in him.
Now, however, Danny saw the actions for what they were: manipulation, and he was tired of it.
“I refuse.”
“You have that right, of course, but one issue remains unclear. If you don’t stay here, where exactly will you go?”
“What do you care?”
“Without money, it will be difficult for you to find any lodging in this area.”
“And who said it has to be in this area? I’ve had enough of this fucking town. I’m going home.”
“I don’t think you’ll do that.”
Danny shot Kubrick a contemptuous look.
“Because?” he asked mockingly, not quite understanding where that conviction came from.
“Because you have been here for a year and a half, and during that time, you have called your parents just once. Your mother, actually. A few weeks ago, which coincided with your acceptance into the internship. You wanted to brag, I assume.”
Dan was in shock.
“How do you know that?” he whispered weakly.
“I always check on my potential interns,” Kubrick replied calmly.
“That kind of checking isn’t fucking legal.”
“If you have proof that I have done anything in violation of the law, you may react accordingly, Daniel.”
Dan narrowed his eyes, smiling sourly. Ah, so that’s how they were going to play this?
“So what? I don’t call my mother every day, and in your opinion that means something?”
“No, such infrequent contact is strange, but not that strange. What interests me more is your childhood,” Kubrick announced, and Danny furrowed his brow, not understanding where he was going with this.
“It’s unusual for a four-year-old child to end up in the emergency room with serious injuries.
” The man took a phone from his coat pocket and began to scroll through something.
“What do we have here? Ah, a broken arm, a dislocated shoulder, a fractured pelvis… And a whole host of minor injuries.” Danny was speechless.
“Well, children like to play, sometimes dangerously. Accidents happen, don’t they?
Except a year later, you were in the hospital again with similar symptoms. At the age of seven, you were there twice.
In both cases, the examinations revealed numerous bruises and remnants of past injuries.
There’s a mention in the report about a fight with peers, but it’s still strange, isn’t it?
When a little boy ends up in the emergency room so often, and every visit reveals signs of ongoing abuse…
Someone should have intervened, shouldn’t they?
Even if it was truly a series of exceptionally suspicious coincidences, the proper authorities should have assessed it, yet I found no trace of a single intervention.
That surprised me, greatly even, but my surprise diminished considerably once I realized that your father is a local sheriff. That explains a lot.”
Danny stared at Kubrick, his eyes wide. He couldn’t believe the bastard had dug up something like that.
“Running away from your family. No contact with your father,” the man listed, approaching Dan.
“Sporadic contact with your mother. I assume she wasn’t the aggressor, but you still blame her, don’t you?
It’s natural. After all, she chose her husband, but you, at no point, could choose your father.
In a way, she sealed your fate. She wasn’t brave enough to leave.
In such conditions, children often grow attached to their mothers, joining them in their suffering, but not you, which leads me to believe your resentment runs deep. I understand that perfectly.”
“Don’t fucking psychoanalyze me,” Dan hissed, feeling a painful lump in his throat.
“That is why I assume, Daniel, that you will not return to your family,” Kubrick continued as if nothing had happened. “Even more, I am certain of it.”
The man’s hand rested on Dan’s shoulder. Danny flinched but didn’t pull away.
“My question, therefore, is this,” Kubrick whispered, leaning over him.
“Do you want to spend your whole life running? Or will you do the right thing and take the chance you’re being offered to show the world that a frightened boy can grow into an independent man?
The choice is yours, Daniel,” he added, pulling back. “I’ll wait in the car.”
Dan watched him go with a look of utter shock, but even after Kubrick left the room, he couldn’t move for a long time.
Tears streamed down his cheeks. He took a shallow breath, and for a moment, he remembered everything.
Every bruise, every hospital visit, the clothes pulled down to hide the marks of violence, the endless lies, his mother defending his father…
He slumped onto the bed and buried his face in his hands, momentarily unable to catch his breath.
A good fifteen minutes passed before he managed to compose himself, but when he finally stood up, he already knew what he was going to do. He grabbed his bag, then left the motel, ignoring Thomas’s mocking farewell. He approached the black car parked in front of the building.
Kubrick immediately got out and opened the door for him.
“Go ahead, Daniel,” he said, gesturing with his hand.
Dan approached the man, then announced harshly:
“Don’t call me that.”
Kubrick raised an eyebrow.
“I am not to address you by your name?”
“You’re not to call me Daniel, because that’s what the father who used to beat the shit out of me called me, and you don’t really want me to associate you with him,” Dan announced cynically. “Unless that’s your intention.”
“Hardly. How should I address you, then?”
“Danny.”
“Very well…”
Dan got into the car.
“…Danny,” Kubrick finished softly.
To be continued