The Fine Print

I settle into a leather couch across from my desk. “Father.” Our titles are nothing but a front developed over the years for public appearances.

“How’s everything in Dreamland? I assume you’ll be attending our board meeting on Monday regardless of whatever plans you’ve got going on.” His tone remains light and indicative of the calm facade he’s perfected across decades. 

My molars grind together. “Why do you care?” 

“Because I’m intrigued by your sudden interest in becoming the Director after your grandfather’s passing.” 

Does he think so little of my intelligence? 

Of course he does. He’s done nothing but mock you for the entirety of your existence. 

“Is there a purpose to this phone call?” I ask with a faux indifference. 

“I was curious about your progress after reviewing the funding request you put in. Ten billion dollars isn’t a joking matter.” 

Every muscle turns rigid in my body. “I don’t need your advice.” 

“Good. I wasn’t offering it.” 

“God forbid you acted like a father for once in your pathetic life.” 

“Interesting word choice from my weakest son.” 

My fist tightens around my cellphone. It was stupid for me to answer my father’s call because of some budding curiosity. I should have expected that nothing would change, even after my grandfather’s death. The only thing my father is interested in is reminding me how inept he thinks I am. 

He’s trying to screw with your head. That’s all. 

“I’ve got to go. I have a meeting that I can’t be late for.” I hang up the phone. 

I take deep breaths to lower my blood pressure. I’m not that hopeless boy anymore that craved a real relationship with my father. Because of him, I turned my mind into a weapon rather than a weakness. No matter how hard he tries to poke at me, I’ll always come out on top because the child he once knew no longer exists. I made sure of that.