Sebastian
SEBASTIAN
I drop Austin and Gray at their place and drive towards home. Fuck, I need to get my head straight. When we’re alone in my apartment, I let myself get wrapped up in the moment. Austin telling me how much he likes me, making me apply for fucking internships in Vancouver.
All I want is to crawl up in bed with him and listen to him talk about literally anything in that sexy accent. Watch his eyebrows knit together and his mouth open in surprise while I make him come.
But fuck, the atmosphere in that locker room. I wanted to mess with him when I first arrived, but now I think I’ve unintentionally ruined his life both on and off the ice.
I get a call from my dad and ignore it. Five seconds later, my phone is blowing up again, this time it’s my sister. Probably my dad asking her to call. If I pick up, he’ll know I’m purposefully ignoring him. I let it ring out. She immediately calls back.
Madison’s a persistent fucker. She’ll keep ringing until I answer.
“Are you ignoring me?”
“What? No, I’ve been busy, you do know I’m in college right?”
She makes a scoffing sound before speaking again. “Daddy’s going out of his mind, you’d better call him back. Don’t worry, I won’t say you picked up for me.”
“Why do you always do what he tells you to do?”
“Why do you always do the opposite?”
“Touché.”
She laughs. “How are you big brother? Getting into trouble yet?”
My jaw clenches. “No, not yet.”
She sighs. “You’re a grown-up now Seb, acting-out stopped being cute like ten years ago.”
“Thanks.”
“Seriously, are you okay?”
I ignore the question. “What does Dad want anyway?”
“He needs you to come to this party they’re having at the house. A load of associates are going to be there and he wants to show you off.”
I groan. “What more do I have to do to be the kind of son you hide away in a basement? Drugs? Shoplifting? Vote Democrat?”
Actually, I already tried that last one. A poster of Bernie Sanders on my bedroom wall didn’t even deter him.
“Be serious.”
“I am being serious.”
“This is your future. These associates are going to be your associates too. It’ll be good to show your face, get a head start.”
“If you like them so much, why don’t you join Dad’s company?”
“Because I’m going to be a doctor. Maybe if you had a focus like medicine, Daddy would let you pursue that.”
“I do!” I blurt before thinking.
“What? And don’t say hockey.”
“Why not? People play professional hockey, and if Dad would have given me a chance-”
“Yeah yeah, you’d be playing in the NHL, do you know how many people think that? Seb, I say this because I’m your sister and I love you. You’re not a bad hockey player, but you don’t have the discipline or the patience to play at the professional level. Just stop fighting yourself already and get serious about your future-”
While I lick my wounds at that stone-cold mic-drop, there’s a voice in the background, Maddy’s probably ordering a ridiculously complicated Starbucks coffee.
“Listen, I’ve got to go, be good.”
She hangs up and the car behind me honks their horn to let me know I’m sitting at a green light. Maybe I shouldn’t be driving?
When I get back to the apartment, I kick my shoes off and collapse onto the couch. The Vancouver internship swimming around in my head. I pick up my phone to check my email and there’s a text from Austin;
Is everything ok? Did I do something to piss you off?
Fuck.
There’s nothing I’d love more than to call him and ask him to come over. Make him see he hasn’t pissed me off. Far from it. But I’m not going to Vancouver. And there’s nothing here for me but Austin. He’s better off without me. Before I came here, he was popular with his teammates and ready for the NHL. If I stay, I put all of that in jeopardy. Maybe not him going to the NHL, but I make that harder for him, because he has to go in, not only as a rookie, but a rookie with a boyfriend. Most professional sports might be trying to show how ‘inclusive’ they are these days, but it still makes you different. Puts a target on your back. Extra scrutiny as a ‘role model.’ He’s not always good with pressure and he doesn’t need any extra because of me.
This party is going to suck. But I have to go, I know I do… maybe if Austin could see the reality of my life, who I really am, maybe then he’d wake up and realize he doesn’t want to be with me?
You didn’t piss me off, idiot. Want to come to a party this Thursday?
When I see Austin in my Armani suit, I almost lose my nerve and tell him we’re not going to the fucking party. But I can’t avoid this forever. He needs to see the truth.
“I don’t know, do you think it fits okay?”
He tugs on the silk tie and my stomach twists with how badly I want to press him against that door and kiss him until our lips ache.
“It looks good on you.”
He flushes a little and I have to look away.
“You sure your parents don’t mind me coming to this thing?”
They won’t even notice you exist. “I’m sure.”
I drive us to New Haven in the SUV, not even hearing the music Austin’s playing from his phone.
“Ma says hi.”
“Oh… tell her hi back.”
“I did.”
He puts his phone back in his pocket.
Fuck, how nice would it be if he was my boyfriend and his mom cared about me enough to ask about me all the time?
I pull up outside the house, a valet coming to take the keys and park the car for me.
Austin’s pretending not to be… impressed? Intimidated? All I know from his uncomfortable expression and the way he keeps tugging at his tie, though he wears a suit all the time to away games, is that he’s pretending to belong when he knows he doesn’t. Yeah, I know that feeling.
The house has been professionally decorated for Christmas. When I was a kid, I’d hear my mom walking around on the wooden floors in high-heels giving directions to her favorite event planner. The poor woman had to practically run to catch up while she jotted down things like; “think ‘Romanov,’” “think ‘the court of Louis XVI.’” I liked to think she was writing; “think ‘crazy rich asshole.’”
I don’t want to see Austin’s reaction to all this pomp, but I force myself to look. If this night is meant to be a wake-up call, then I ought to be awake for it too.
He’s looking up at the ceiling. One of a dozen chandeliers dangling overhead. The teardrop crystals shimmering under Mom’s carefully-controlled ambience lighting.
Fresh wreaths wrap around the double staircase and every fireplace and doorframe in sight. This year she’s opted for a classic red, green and gold theme and I have to say, I prefer it to her winter wonderland phase – all silvers and snow white, making the place feel colder than it already is.
Mom steps out from one of the rooms in a black velvet dress with one of those off-the-shoulder necklines and a ruched detail at the waist. For once, I can’t hear her heels clacking against the wooden floor because of all the generic jazz renditions of Christmas songs and people hobnobbing.
She isn’t holding a drink, of course. She doesn’t throw these parties to have fun. And as always, she’s wearing a painted smile on her face that doesn’t quite reach the eyes – though it’s always hard to tell since she started Botox.
“, darling!” She air kisses me like I’m some socialite she’s just been introduced to for the first time, and a Vanity Fair camera is lingering somewhere in the background. Her glance flickers over Austin for a couple of seconds before flickering away again.
“Mother, this is Austin Donoghue, captain of the hockey team.”
“Of course!” She puts her hand out to him, floppy, like she expects him to kiss it. I think about kissing Patti’s hand at the diner, how funny they all found it, and cringe.
Austin takes her limp fingers in his own and gives them a little shake. I would laugh if this was absolutely anyone else’s family.
“, your father wants you to let him know you’ve arrived, he’s in the study. Come Austin, let me introduce you to some of our guests…”
Austin’s face goes white and he looks at me for help. I mouth sorry as my mother leads him by the arm into the drawing room. He squares his shoulders as if this is practise for all those press conferences he will have to do when he’s playing in the NHL. I guess this is good practise for being thrown to the sharks.
My father is in his study smoking cigars with a couple of men who look as though they’ve been put through a dehydrator.
He does a good job at pretending to be happy to see me as he steps forward to take my hand.
“Gentleman, you remember my son, .”
“, how’s Yale treating you?” One of the men asks.
Before I can reply that I’m not at Yale anymore, my dad butts in and says something vague about it being just fine, before expertly steering the conversation in another direction.
“We hear you’ll be joining your father’s company after graduation.”
“But surely you’ll let the boy have a break first?” One of them says with a glint in his eye.
“A young man needs to sow his wild oats before settling down.”
The men chuckle and my dad forces a smile through gritted teeth. I see what’s behind that look. He thinks I’ve sewn my oats a little too wildly already.
“Still playing hockey?” One of the men asks.
“Yes, actually, Dad, I brought a friend home from school, Austin-”
“That’s nice son, why don’t you go out there and enjoy yourself and we’ll have a chat later.”
I know when I’m being dismissed. I shake hands with everyone in the room and make sure to call my father ‘Sir’ before leaving.
I don’t realize how airless that room felt until I step outside and take a deep breath. Fuck, that’s going to be my life, forever. Not being able to breath… a waiter passes by with a tray full of champagne glasses and I grab two, downing half of one on my way to find Austin.
I find him still standing with my mother in the middle of a group of women, all beaming at him like they’re at a male strip club. I can’t say I blame them, Austin does look good in that suit.
He spots me coming and the tight smile on his face softens.
“Oh, you already have a drink,” I note. “I’ll drink yours then.”
Mom’s laugh is strained while I drink the rest of my champagne and half of Austin’s.
“Ladies, you remember my son, -”
“Nice to see you again ladies, but if you’ll excuse me.” I take Austin’s hand and lead him through the room, out into the hallway and into the kitchen. I open the fridge, a couple of waiters giving me the side-eye like they’re not sure if I’m supposed to be doing this.
“Don’t worry, I live here.” I wink and they go back to doing what they were doing. My face is flooding with heat and I mentally tell myself to get over it. So what if Austin is seeing the real me, isn’t that what I brought him here for? To get it out of the way before I get too attached? Yeah, like that hasn’t already happened .
I take out a bottle of Dom Perignon, grab the corkscrew from the top drawer and drag Austin out of the room and up the stairs.
He starts to protest weakly once we’re stalking along the upper floor where only the odd servant is rushing about.
“What are you doing?” he asks when I pull him into the library and close the door.
“Thank god for that.”
I lean against the door as I pop the cork and take a drink while bubbles froth over the side.
“Did you want to stay out there being ogled by my mother’s Daughters of America Society?”
He swallows and I see him softening.
“Here?” I hand him the bottle
“How are we gonna drive back to campus?”
I shrug. “We’ll get a cab, don’t worry about it.” He still hesitates for a second before taking the bottle from me.
I walk around him, looking for the speaker I know is in here somewhere.
“What shall we have?” I start hooking my phone up, scrolling through my playlists. Ignoring the ones Austin has been sending me over the past few weeks. Those weeks were an interlude. A lie. It’s time for the truth.
While I flip through my phone for the right playlist, Austin walks around, looking at the spines of all my dad’s limited edition classics, the bottle of Dom Perignon dangling by his side. If I didn’t know him, I could mistake him for a silver spoon boy at this very moment. In his well-fitted Armani suit and the way he’s holding that bottle. All except for the wide-eyed naivety in his eyes as he takes in the sheer volume of my father’s library.
I take the bottle from him and sip while looking him in the eye. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.
“Won’t someone hear this music?”
“Not over that crap down there.”
I run my fingers over his tie and pull him closer, dancing to the music. He laughs and drops his eyes. “You’re crazy.”
“I bet that’s not the worst thing you’ve thought about me.”
“Yeah well,” he leans in to nuzzle my neck. “I didn’t know you properly yet.”
Fuck, stop being so nice to me.
I dance backwards, swigging from the bottle before passing it back to Austin.
“Are you feeling buzzed yet?”
“I’m not used to drinking champagne,” he admits. His cheeks are flushed and he messes his hair up when he runs a hand through it.
“Hey is this Mazzy Star?”
Fuck, so maybe I added a few of his songs to my more permanent playlists.
I lead him by the hand to the armchair and he lets me guide him into it. The champagne bottle still in his hand, dangling over the arm while I kneel between his legs and unzip his fly.
He swallows and asks me what I’m doing, but there’s no fight in his voice.
“Shh.”
I take his cock out and Austin buries his free hand in my hair with a sigh.
“Fuck Seb.”
While Austin’s scent fills my nostrils, I tell myself that Austin isn’t incorruptible after all. He’s not above drinking my father’s expensive champagne and getting blown at a party. Tomorrow, he’ll wake up and realize this isn’t him. I’m not him. And he’ll go running back to Alyssa.
“!”
Austin flinches so violently I almost bite him.
I wipe the saliva from my mouth as I turn to face my dad. He’s closed the door behind him, his face so scrunched up I can barely see his eyes.
He turns to Austin. “Young man, I think it’s time you left.”
Austin mutters an apology while he zips his trousers up.
“I can’t even look at you,” Dad says to me. He shakes his head and runs a hand over his face in a manner I recognize all too well. He’s trying to decide what to do with me. Maybe this time, I’ve finally done it? He sighs and turns to leave, slamming the door behind him.
As soon as he leaves, I burst out laughing.
Austin’s face when he looks at me should be enough to tell me what he’s thinking. Finally, he’s seen me for the piece of shit that I am.
“Why are you laughing?” His face is red and he hasn’t tucked the shirt back in properly. “Your dad just walked in on us…” He stumbles over his words. “Don’t you take anything seriously?”
I should just let him walk out of here. But there’s a little bubble of anger that won’t stay down.
“What do you want from me?”
He frowns, his mouth open.
I open my mouth to tell him what I’m really thinking. Do you want me to cry because my dad thinks I’m a piece of shit? Do you know what I’d give to have had your life? Someone who’d make the kind of sacrifices for me your mom made for you? I was just here. An heir. Someone to show off to their associates. Someone to carry on the family name. But you…
I can feel a sob building at the back of my throat and fuck it if I’m going to cry in front of him.
I paint on my most obnoxious, ‘shit-eating’ - as Austin described it – grin.
“You don’t like it? There’s the door.”
He looks at me like I just murdered his puppy and my insides turn to water. Stop it. A voice in my head says. He likes you, you can make it work.
Fuck off, I tell it. But it’s waiting. Hoping Austin will stay. For a second, it looks like he’s going to. Readying himself to tell me I’m not a piece of shit. That I’m worth all the trouble I bring everywhere I go. And then he sighs and shakes his head before walking out the door.
I sink into the armchair with a moan. Bite the inside of my lip to stop from crying. This was what I was expecting, right? For him to see the real me and be disgusted. To realize he can do better and leave. So why does it feel so fucking bad?