Letting Him In

Chapter-18 (Part-2)

"With no way out and a long way down
Everybody needs someone around
But I can't hold you, too close now
Through the wire, through the wire"

-One Direction, What a Feeling

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Dean

Sighing at his reflection in the mirror, Dean contemplated what to do next. Once he was done straightening, unbuttoning and rebuttoning his coat, fixing his already fixed hair, and tying and retying his shoelaces, each action repeated at least twice, he was out of excuses to stay in the washroom and look like he wasn't just hiding away. Even though that was exactly what he was doing.

The party was being held in a ballroom at the lodgings of one of his father's business associates. He wasn't sure why someone would have a ballroom in their house; but then again, if one wanted to have a party with two hundred people wearing overbearingly expensive clothes and accessories, and flaunting their success, he supposed a grand venue would be required. In the end, Dean hadn't even been the one to choose his suit. A navy-blue Burberry three piece with cufflinks and a white shirt had already been laid out on his bed by the time he had returned home.

Taking a deep breath, he plastered on a smile. Christian always claimed that his ability to fake emotions was a bit scary, but Dean found it quite useful; it came in handy when he was supposed to look like he was having the time of his life, when all he really wanted to do was eat ice-cream and never get out of bed.

Just as he was about to leave the restroom, the door opened, and a boy entered, shrugging off his grey coat and draping it over his arm in one fluid motion. When he looked up to meet Dean's eyes, his lips curved into a small smirk.

"Dean, it's been a long time," Brian West said as he let the door fall shut behind him, his infuriatingly posh accent accentuating his words. "Good to see you, man."

Dean surprised himself at the amount of self-control he possessed. It was a huge deal for him to not have instantly let a frown take over his face at the sight of the raven-haired boy in front of him.

Fighting to keep his smile in place, Dean said, "It's a pleasure meeting you again, Brian. It has certainly been a while." Being polite had never been harder for him, so he settled for a calm, cool voice; it was what his father called Dean's business voice.

Brian laughed at that, the sound echoing off the walls. "We don't have company, Dean. You can stop pretending."

Dean tilted his head, his face hurting from the smile he refused to drop. He wasn't going to let his emotions get the better of him. "I don't know what you mean. We've always had a good business relationship, Mr. West." He emphasized those last words, making it clear where they stood in this conversation: not as two people who hadn't had spoken in a civilized manner for the past two years, but as two adults whose families had been working together for ages.

There must have been something in his voice, because Brian straightened, although almost imperceptibly. "Ah, of course, Mr. Hernandez. Well, in that case I should inform you we might be seeing more of each other soon. Our fathers seem to be discussing a new deal out there," he said. He still sounded amused, but a hint of formality had seeped into his voice. "We must keep track of these things, huh? Being the heirs to their companies and all."

Brian had struck a nerve with that comment, and from the glint in his eyes, Dean knew Brian knew exactly what he was doing. His raised eyebrows and innocent frown gave him an innocent aura, but his words had been meant to hurt. But Dean had had enough practice to deal with such comments.

"In that case, you should also know how it works, right? Christian is the older one; he gets the business once mom and dad retire. At least that's how it worked last time I checked. I'll merely be there to help him along," Dean said, enunciating each word as if he were talking to a child.