Unsung Requiem by C.L. Stone

Guerriero

(War like)

Victor

Within the hour, they’d all gotten dressed. Mr. Buble was informed of what was going on.

“I can’t go in with you, unfortunately,” Mr. Buble said, “unless you feel it’s needed.”

“It’d be hard to explain why you were with me, and the truth is likely something they won’t want anyway,” Victor said to him. “They just want it to blow over.”

Mr. Buble took the time to tend to the kids in his charge but insisted Nathan and Sang accompany him.

They needed to change into more formal clothes. Nathan had packed a pair of black slacks and the Armani shirt that Victor had grown used to wearing for years.

Victor touched the collar, feeling the starched crisp material in his fingers. But these clothes were the old Victor. The one that bent to their will for far too long. He wanted to show he wasn’t the same person who left before. He wanted to feel secure in himself and his decisions.

It was Sang that noticed when he seemed to hesitate putting the clothes on.

“Maybe try a different color?” she asked. “Or another brand?”

It was like she could read his mind sometimes. He considered this, and while they didn’t have much in the way of options, inside Dr. Green’s car was a collection of more formal clothes he’d wear as a doctor for meetings or for Academy missions that would require it.

Out of the collection, he tried on a light blue shirt, nearly the same style as his Armani but with thicker cotton fabric, and gray pants. They didn’t fit quite as well but looked fine. He could pass wearing them in formal circles.

The others got dressed into nicer clothes, too. As much as Victor didn’t mind, he assumed given the setting they’d be more comfortable dressed up.

At the Morgan estate, Nathan parked Dr. Green’s car near the garage in the back.

“I’m sort of surprised they let us in without questioning us,” Nathan said.

“The guards are still the same,” Victor said. “They’d let us in.” He looked gloomily over at the large, yellow, three-story home, at the expanse of a lawn, the pool, the pool house, the exterior buildings… all of it. Familiar and yet in the time he’d been away, he felt removed from all of it.

He’d told himself he’d never be here again. Never.

As much as he knew that wasn’t true. He knew, in his heart he’d have to come back eventually.

Knowing this bit of information didn’t help the tight knot in his heart that had formed days ago and festered.

There were other cars near the garage. One in particular was old, brown and without a rear bumper. He thought he saw it at the library and now it was familiar. Victor imagined it was Mitch’s.

“He’s probably inside. Lying to them,” Victor said. “Who knows what he said.”

“We’ll go in,” Nathan said, taking the keys out of the ignition.

“No,” Victor said, without much conviction.

Nathan turned to him. Victor had slumped in the passenger seat. Sang was awake but laying lazily in the back seat behind them.

Nathan put a hand on Victor’s shoulder. “We weren’t there for you when you really needed us,” Nathan said. “There was a mix up, sure, but we should have been there. It’s okay to ask for help. And we can go in because they know us. It’s not like Mr. Buble where they don’t know him at all.”

“And you’re supposed to put him on speaker,” Sang said from the back. She turned her head and then adjusted until she was sitting up. She’d twisted herself to lie down with her seatbelt on. “Should we get Mr. Blackbourne here? Don’t they know him, too?”

“I don’t even know why they’d want me here for this,” he said. He wasn’t normally called in for such meetings. He only heard about them after. It didn’t happen a lot but enough that he knew the usual process for when someone thought to sue the family.

He resolved himself to allowing Nathan and Sang inside, although he wasn’t sure how it would work. He continued, “However, if you’re going in, you’ll need to lay low in another room. They’ll say private family matter and close the door, I think.”

He was about to suggest maybe they could just wait in the car, but Sang reached out and put her small hand on his shoulder, like Nathan had done. Her touch was soft, lightly massaging, like a hug with one hand.

“We’ll go in and we’ll see. And maybe say something if you want us there, too.”

She was right. He needed to stand up to them more.

What would be the worst they could do? Kick him out again?

They left the car together, walking to the back door of the Morgan estate. The old house seemed so tiny to him, for the value it was. Kota’s home seemed bigger, better… a home. He hadn’t missed this yellow house with its very expensive things inside he could never touch.

Mr. Buble was on the line on his phone, the phone tucked into his pocket. Victor wore an earpiece, also connected to Mr. Buble, as did Sang and Nathan, just in case. Mr. Buble wasn’t saying anything for the moment.

Victor, hesitating to go in, double-checked his phone was still on, and rechecked the earpiece, just to be sure it was still in his ear.

Earpiece and phone on was something Mr. Blackbourne used to do when Victor had to confront his parents alone, so he wondered why he forgot to do something similar on his birthday. Maybe because it had been so long and he assumed the others would be there at any moment.

Inside, the house seemed a little too quiet to him. For a moment, he wasn’t even sure anyone was home.

He stilled in the back hallway. Part of him was willing to accept no one was here so they could leave.

It was Sang’s hand at his back, pressing gently, that urged him on.

He looked back at her. She had a finger at her lip, a thing she seemed to do when she was nervous.

He reached for her hand, held it, and kept holding it as he followed the hallway.

He was glad Nathan was there, too. His blue eyes seemed so determined and serious.

As they drew further into the house, they finally found the front hallway and to the right, the parlor. Voices emanated from it. The double French doors were closed, the delicate white curtains drawn behind the glass. From the outside, one could see shades of color, shadows of people, but not see who was inside.

Something his parents did when they had “undesirable” guests.

He was usually not at the center of these meetings, though. Most of the time, it was his father…

Victor didn’t knock, just tried the door. He wanted this to be over with. Bribe this guy until he went away. He imagined that was what would happen.

He opened the parlor door and looked in, with Sang standing beside him and Nathan at his back.

Near the back of the room was his father, his face darkening at seeing Victor. He stood by a wiry man with thin wire glasses and white hair wearing a tweed suit. The family lawyer, Mr. Perkins.

His mother was sitting at the settee, regal in red and wearing a lot of gold and diamond jewelry, with her hair well done. Her head turned, slowly, methodically, toward him, and while her face seemed to not move, it was her eyes that seemed to explode with feeling, likely for him not knocking and also most importantly for bringing friends.

Across from her was another chair where Mitch sat, legs sprawled open as he sat back, at least until he spotted Victor and he sat up. “Here’s the brat,” he said. “That’s him. He got me fired.”

Victor stood taller, offended at the remark. “I believe you’re mistaken.”

The lawyer raised his hand a touch, a movement Victor was very familiar with. Don’t talk. Do not offer anything. He approached the door alone, ushering Victor back out into the hallway, away from his parents and Mitch.

“I do need you here,” he said, “but come talk to me in the other room.”

This threw off Victor, to be alone and to talk with Mr. Perkins instead of being involved. “Should they be alone in there with him?” Victor asked.

“They know not to say anything other than perhaps offering him another drink.” Mr. Perkins walked across the downstairs hallway, coming to a door and opening it. He had been at the house many times and knew the layout.

Victor followed him into what was an office, but it was set aside for Mr. Perkins and the house manager and head housekeeper to work out of collectively when at the house. The office had a narrow desk with a single computer, and filing cabinets along the back wall. There was only one rolling office chair behind the desk. Victor knew this was all here but he had never really been inside.

Mr. Perkins closed the door behind Nathan and Sang. Sang had trailed in reluctantly but Mr. Perkins included her as he spoke to them.

The old lawyer examined them through his glasses before removing the glasses entirely to put them into his front jacket pocket. “I don’t want you to agitate him further. I just need to know what he’s talking about.”

“What did he say?” Victor asked.

“He claims to want to sue for mental duress and financial damages after being fired when you lied to his boss. I tried to get him to give details, but he kept talking about you and not the situation.”

Victor nodded slowly. “He seems to be obsessed with being right and lording over young boys,” he said. He described a bit about what he heard about Mitch, and what happened with Sang. “We were literally only talking in the car before he approached. Luckily a tutor from school,” he almost said Mr. Buble’s name but then stopped himself, “was walking by. We both confronted the head librarian about him trying to grab me inside the car. Mitch only got suspended after he was belligerently harassing her and talking down to her. He could get fired, but I don’t know if it happened yet. I think he’s assuming he is.”

Mr. Perkins took a step away from Victor, using what small space there was between the back of the desk and the wall to pace a bit, something he did when he was thinking. “I’d like to draw his vile anger less toward you and redirect it. And you’ve brought your witnesses?” He looked to Nathan at first, and then lingered on Sang.

Uh oh. Despite wanting to shoo off Mitch, there was a problem if they were going to introduce witnesses, even to a judge.

“I’d like to keep her out of it completely,” Victor said quickly. “Can’t we just pay him off or something?”

“Maybe if you’re willing to compensate him so much he doesn’t even go back to work ever,” Mr. Perkins said. “However, your mother is hesitant.”

“Why?”

Mr. Perkins stopped his pacing, frowned slightly and shrugged. “She wants—”

Before he could finish, the office door opened.

Victor’s mother stood in the entryway.

The spark of anger igniting her eyes and her steel composure was the only thing keeping her from exploding.

“How many times have I told you…” she seethed from the door, and then seemed to notice her voice echoed a little. She stepped further into the room, her heels snapping sharply against the wood until she reached the rug in the center of the room. She pointed a slim, heavily ringed hand in Victor’s direction. “Your name. Your face. Your actions effect everything we are and do.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Victor said. “He’s just insane.”

“If you had been here, doing what you should be doing, it wouldn’t have been a problem at all,” she said. “You think you can manage on your own…”

Rage lit up inside Victor, and he was quick to sneer right back at her. “I don’t need your help.”

“Then why do we have this vile man claiming you had him fired? Why were you even in a library?”

Mr. Perkins rapped his knuckles on the desk in front of him. “Let’s not get too worked up. At this time, we should focus on the task in front of us.”

His mother pointed a well-manicured finger at Victor’s face. “Matters like this require delicate negotiations. You can’t simply demand he leaves. It’s bad enough we’ve had to cancel every charity event for the next couple of weeks while you’re—”

“Mrs. Morgan,” Mr. Perkins said gently.

Victor said nothing, but the weight of guilt finally hit home. He glared at the floor. The truth was, Mr. Perkins was very good at handling situations like this. He was the one who Victor would have called to handle it once he knew what was going on.

But Victor felt guilt for bringing Mitch into this house. Despite Victor’s good intentions, because his face was well known, Mitch was able to piece together who he was and go to his parents in the first place. This was largely why he was often the tech guy instead of a lead. There was a good chance someone he spoke with would know his face. It was useful sometimes to get into places, but on the other side… he was too easily recognized.

“What do you want me to do?” Victor asked.

From his coat pocket, Mr. Perkins took out a handkerchief to clean his glasses. He stared off into the far corners of the room while he spoke. “I can handle it, but I need you to be willing to say you’re sorry to Mitch and agree you will back off and not speak about him and any incident that happened ever again. If we’re lucky, we can get his job back with a sizable donation to the library and an agreement they’ll forget the whole thing.”

Victor’s eyes widened and he leaned forward, pressing a palm to his forehead. “You can’t do that. He’s been harassing boys. It’s disgusting what he does. He can’t work there again.”

“Victor,” his mother said sharply. “Being involved further would put you in the middle of a series of trials and interviews that you can’t be a part of. To continue to talk to the library about this will further ruin your own good name.”

“How does it ruin a good name if I’m reporting his bad behavior?” He struggled to find a way to get her and Mr. Perkins to understand. “You want to be known as someone who paid to allow a man to corner boys in bathrooms to harass them?”

“Do you think you’d be a hero?” she asked, slowly shaking her head. “A trial and lawsuit or more would put your name with his. Even if he loses, he’s no worse off, but you will be. You’re not on great terms with the community. The drunken display and telling off the crowd at your birthday… that could be forgivable with some time and some donations on your behalf and some well-timed apologies. A trial that you get into the middle of with some wild man throwing disgusting details will sully you and put anyone off from wanting to attend anything for years.”

She absolutely didn’t care. It was all about Victor and how the family looked. “He’s going to go back to work and continue doing what he does,” Victor said. “And then it’ll come up again.”

She seemed to consider this. “There’s ways to handle things like this quietly, but it takes time.” She paused and then approached Victor, putting her palms to his cheeks, a thing she did since he was little and she wanted to show him a modest amount of comfort. “I can’t protect you if you don’t let me. If this happens, charities will have to drop you from their lists and we’ll lose benefactors. Don’t let those charities suffer when we could be helping them.”

His heart hurt at her touch. He wanted to believe she was doing this for a good reason. She was his mother, and he used to trust her. Part of what she was saying made sense. No one would want Victor to play for their charity events if his name came up along with Mitch’s, despite Victor trying to make things better.

She continued, “You might not agree with me, but you’ve been on a rage of destruction for yourself. It won’t end well if you continue. Please just stop and listen to me. I can fix it.”

This was his fault. He should have realized what would happen, and why Mr. Buble went back to face Mitch alone.

All of his latest mistakes weighed on Victor. He should have been aware and never allowed Mitch to approach the car.

He shouldn’t have been drunk at his own birthday.

He shouldn’t have taken that pill.

He shouldn’t have allowed his mother to push him, or said those awful things to people, who didn’t deserve it.

All his fault. Making another bad decision now, if he made the wrong choice, that would be his fault, too. Could she possibly be right about allowing Mitch to continue and to not say anything? Was there something he wasn’t seeing?

“Don’t.” Mr. Buble’s voice came into his ear. “Wait.”

That was it. Not what to do. Not what to say. Nothing.

But he followed his advice. He didn’t say anything. Instead, he looked at her, like there was more to this answer than the choices she left him.

“Victor doesn’t live here anymore,” Nathan said next to Victor, burst out like he had been waiting to say something. His fists were clenched near his thighs. “And he’s been dating Sang for months now, not that other girl you kept throwing at him.”

Victor wasn’t sure what he was doing. “It’s okay, Nathan.”

Nathan ignored him and spoke to Victor’s mother. “If this is a negotiation, then this is the counteroffer,” he said. His gaze swung between Mr. Perkins and Victor’s mother. “He agrees to do this, to save your reputations and the further trouble by agreeing to Mitch getting his job back, but then Victor gets to peacefully stay with us. And if he wants to, he can come for the charity events, but no more parties. No more insisting he drinks or spur of the moment luncheons with random girls or trying to get him to do things he doesn’t want to.”

This was unlike Nathan. Victor wasn’t totally sure it was solely him. He did have an earpiece, too. Was Mr. Buble guiding him a little? That didn’t seem right. Mr. Buble or Nathan, or both, were working together to trade Victor for what his mother wanted? What about Mitch? This further made Victor worry he was pushing the wrong agenda.

“This,” his mother replied to Nathan coldly, “is simply a family matter to discuss.”

“You kicked him out,” Nathan said in just as harsh a tone. He stepped forward, putting himself between Victor and his mother, coercing her to take a step back. “You forced poor Brie on him, got him drunk at seventeen until he couldn’t stand up straight, and when he tried to stand up for himself, kicked him out and further, tried to make it sound like it was his fault. Now you’re trying to guilt trip him into complying by pretending it’s the right thing to do. It’s a bunch of bullshit.”

Victor’s mother remained still, glaring at Nathan with the full fire and fury her eyes had ever summoned to the surface.

“If you had done what I had said the entire evening,” his mother said to Victor, not talking to Nathan, and in such a cold tone, a mismatch for the burning anger in her eyes, “if you had stayed with Brie, and listened, this would have amplified your reputation so confronting someone like this man wouldn’t have been a problem. We could have quietly paid the library off to fire him without your involvement if you were that worried.”

“If you don’t mind me saying,” Sang’s sweet but shaking voice came out. She’d lingered behind Nathan closer to the door. However, now she stepped around Nathan so she could be seen. “When you’re forcing Victor onto Brie when neither of them want it, you’re risking your own reputation and theirs. What happens when Brie and her girlfriend are caught together?”

“You don’t know anything about this,” his mother said, although a little weaker.

“They’re both right,” Victor said, coming around to realizing what they were saying. “You’ve been risking my reputation from the start, lying to people on what I am about and who I spend my time with…”

“It’s important,” his mother said.

“No,” he said. “It’s the ideal world you wish existed. Not reality. You were hoping to get me so wrangled into what you wanted that I had to keep with it or risk everything.” He shook his head slowly. “You want to push me into doing things I don’t want to do. You’ll get me to drink like I’ll comply. As if drinking will make me happy or shut me up. Like you do with my father.”

His mother’s lips pressed firmly together.

Now it was Victor pushing her buttons. His father, her husband… how often did he drink, and it led to him flirting with women inappropriately. She got to blame it on his drinking, but she often sent him off to drink to get him to agree to things, including how she handled Victor. She caused her own problems and it kept going.

She kept the family together to appear perfect. She did it at the cost of alienating Victor and a miserable marriage that her husband didn’t want.

Why was her reputation so important to her?

Mr. Perkins stepped forward. “If I might suggest, from the outside, it does appear that what people might learn about this, even at Mitch’s lies, is the conclusion that you, Victor, appear just like your father. Drunk. Between women. At Mitch’s suggestion, he could start rumors about the other friends you hang around.” He nodded slowly. “After your drunken episode, it wasn’t going to be long before someone captured an awkward photo or video and it’ll get worse from there.”

“I don’t want to be a part of it anymore,” Victor said.

“They’ll ask questions,” Mr. Perkins said. “Even if you don’t mean to, your recent actions draw even more attention to you. Abandoning responsibilities, like your concerts. Shunning your family. Getting seen in inappropriate situations. This man here today, he’s here because he recognized your face. Many more will, too. You can’t escape it now. Even if you leave, it’ll follow you. No job will hire you once they search your name. Landlords may not want to rent to you. Reputation means more now than ever.”

He was right. He wasn’t safe anywhere, really. His mother had already pushed him into the limelight so often, that now if he did anything, everyone would notice. He didn’t care what people thought, but he was bringing trouble to his team… to Sang…

“I don’t do it for me,” his mother said. She sighed and shook her head, her eyes closed. “You don’t know how hard it is. I tried to not worry you. But maybe now you’re old enough to know. I built a legacy for you. For us. You were trained. I created you.”

“To play at your command,” Victor said.

“To build something better,” she snapped back. “I’ve tried. I’ve tried to bring you around to see that it takes good people with good reputations to get anywhere in this world. Doors open for you that even wealth can’t any more. Any mistake is devastating. And it is so easy, especially now, to fall from the public’s good graces. One little scandal, and it is not just about the charities not getting the money they would need. Their reputations come under condemnation for representing you, too. They’ll hurt for years as being known for supporting someone who acts so terribly. Not just them. Your school that you love so much, and any future plans you think you have, it’ll all disappear.”

“I just wanted my friends around, and to be around who I want,” Victor said, although weaker in his convictions. She wasn’t wrong. Reputation meant more now than ever in some circles.

She nodded to Sang and Nathan. “I warn you about bringing in others because those in our circles know how important it is. They’ve been trained, like Brie. Their families are ready and are able to be looked over with close examination. You tell me you can’t expose Sang or your friends and I permitted them around. You can’t tell me their backgrounds. I respect that, but then I need you to understand, you can’t have both.”

Victor faltered then.

Sang, in this world, by his side, would eventually be exposed. And if he didn’t want her to appear in newspapers alongside him, then bringing her around would only risk things greatly.

There was also his work with the Academy…

His team, their lives…

“Then isn’t that more of a reason to separate Victor from all this?” Nathan asked. “Shouldn’t we get him away? If he is out of public life, they’ll eventually forget about him.”

Mr. Perkins shrugged his shoulders. “It’s your life, young Mr. Morgan. And this is your family. Whatever God might have set out for you to do in the world, he granted you all this to help you along the way, for whatever it may be worth. But for several years, you may still struggle greatly with people taking your photo, trying to uncover what happened to you. If you stay in this world, you’ll have protection and the power to make changes, like people like Mitch, without having to hide. It just means a change of lifestyle.”

Victor shook his head. So stay and not risk the group and Sang and do good… or leave and risk everything. Was that true? “I need time to think. I don’t know.”

“We’re leaving together,” Nathan said. “You can give Victor time to think.”

“Victor has to stay and settle this,” Mr. Perkins said.

Nathan hesitated then, looking to Victor.

Mr. Buble’s voice popped into Victor’s head. “Offer to apologize.”

Victor had almost forgotten he was there. He’d been listening and this was his only advice.

He would do so. He was tired of being in the middle, tired of how his mother pushed him into this so that every move now felt like it was the wrong choice. But if Mr. Buble said to apologize, he likely had a plan in place. He’d have to trust him. The rest Victor would have to figure out on his own. “If I apologize to Mitch,” Victor said, “is that what you want? At least for now?”

His mother nodded slowly.

“And offer to talk to the librarians,” Mr. Perkins said. “Let them know it was a mistake.”

“We’ll get the library staff to offer the other job at the college library,” Mr. Buble said in his ear. “Clear the decks, Mr. Morgan. We have work to do.”

Somehow, Mr. Buble telling him so meant Victor couldn’t give up yet. “I’ll do my best to talk to the librarian.”

Mr. Perkins looked to Sang. “Will you allow our Victor Morgan to take the lead and save you from any trouble? I must have you promise not to breathe a word about what happened between you two.”

Sang nodded solemnly. Nathan frowned but said nothing.

“Then please trust me,” Mr. Perkins placed a hand at his own chest for emphasis, “to take Victor in alone with Mitch. I promise to get him out of this.”

Victor’s mother silently stood aside, allowing room for Mr. Perkins and Victor to pass.

Clear the decks, he had said. Handle Mitch first.

What Victor was going to do about his mother, and his messed up life, that would take a lot of time to figure out.

Deep down, he worried he was stuck. Stuck forever in this world his mother built for him, pushing him into situations that she thought would give him opportunities.

To do things he didn’t want to do.

But was it too late to get out of it all?