I'll scratch your back.. (Completed)

I'll Scratch Your Back...

"Do we have to go to the stupid party? I want to stay home and talk to Namtarn on FaceTime instead."

"Yes, Arthit. We have to go to the party. It's important for your father's business that we are all there so he can show us off. You know the drill, you've been to enough of these events." His mother reaches out to smooth down a strand of his hair and Arthit grimaces at her.

"Exactly, mother. I've been to so many of the damn things that everyone already knows who I am! Please, excuse me from this one just this once?" He gives her a hopeful look, even though he already knows the answer that is coming.

An hour later, he's in his suit and tie, seated in his father's favourite limousine. He shuffles along the bench seat to be nearer to his mother, who is fiddling with a bag in her hands while his father talks loudly on his mobile.

"Are you sure I can't just show my face then get Barley to take me back home? Nam would understand if I was a little late, but if I miss the call altogether, she's going to be pissed!"

"Don't swear in front of me, Arthit!" His mother raises her voice and his father shoots them an angry look. So he's shoved back along the bench, his mother gracefully sliding along with him. "I wish you would think of this family for once instead of thinking about fucking that hideous girl. I've already told you that your father and I won't support a relationship with her!"

"Mother! I don't think of Nam that way!" Arthit has to admit that her passionate dislike of Namtarn had always shocked him, but he is so angry at her right now that he ignores it and plows right on, "She's the girl I want to marry!"

"Over my dead body!" His mother proclaims and then reaches over to adjust his tie, smoothing out an invisible crease. "Now," Her voice turns saccharine and he knows what is coming, "Your father has arranged for you to meet the Sutthiluck's eldest tonight. I know we've been rivals for a while, but at last they are starting to see that a Rojnapat-Sutthiluk merger will be to everyone's benefit. Gift is a sweet girl and I think you'll find her pleasing to the eye..as well as to the one eyed beast in your trousers!"

"Mother! Don't say such things! And I can't go out with practically a stranger!"

She ignores him, reaching into the bag at her feet to produce an elegant black mask with curls of gold at the edges. "This one is yours, Arthit. It is to be worn at all times. The Sutthiluk's are hosting a grand masked ball. At the opportune time, I will introduce you to your fiancée."

"My what?" Arthit screeches, earning another angry look from his father's end of the car. "You can't go auctioning me like a prized cow!"

"I'm afraid," His mother grits her teeth, an edge of desperation in her tone as her husband continues his rather loud and anxious call at one end of the car, while her son shoots her a murderous glare at the other, "That we have no choice. I wasn't going to tell you," her voice quietens, "But the business is in a precarious position, and it is in our best interests to listen to your father and to follow his business models to the T, Arthit. Otherwise, everything you know and love might be lost. And then, no matter what, your precious Namtarn won't want you anyway. She would never date a pauper!"

For the rest of the car ride, his mother refuses to say another word, and Arthit sits with a thousand questions and a stone low in his stomach. It is agonising, made worse by the fifty or so texts from Namtarn lighting up his screen, all of which go unread in his distress.

The sick feeling does not abate by the time they reach the Sutthiluk home, where Arthit is soon to be engaged to an almost complete stranger. He manages to give his father a few of his best death glares, matured by years of practise. But he is oblivious, staying on the phone, yelling mostly, right up to the second that they all affix their masks and exit the car.