The Bodyguard (discontinued)

43.

three weeks until the election

Lucas set the last of the boxes down. The untouched, untarnished floors mimicked every available surface, littered with boxes, clothes — all of which belonged to Jasper.

"Is that everything?" Lucas asked as his younger brother walks through the door.

Jasper shuts the door carefully, glances toward Lucas and nods. The tiredness that he wore on his face wasn't anything new, but this time, for the last couple of weeks in fact, it felt different.

The empty apartment smelled of newness and the lack of furniture added to its cold feeling. The curtainless windows offered a stream of light that lit the space so nothing was left in the shadows.

Lucas could see it. Every mark, every line of indifference, that Jasper wore on his face was undeniable now.

"More humble than I would've expected for your taste, but I like it for you." Lucas maneuvered around the countless boxes and leaned against the granite kitchen island.

Jasper stared at him impatiently across the room. He began an attempt at moving things away from the door so there was at least a clear pathway from there to the living area.

"It's not like I chose it myself."

"At least you're not stuck at mom's anymore. Or holed up at Ludlow."

The optics had been working in their favor. The press had bought the prince charming act from Jasper and just like that, Karla's approval ratings skyrocketed.

She'd seemingly regained control of her family, of Jasper, specifically. The press loved the narrative she had curated: a once rebellious, spun out son finds his purpose again in the name of love.

As some sort of sick reward for Jasper's compliance, he was allowed to have a place of his own again — it was one of Karla's choosing, of course.

He should've been happier. He was, in some ways. No longer would he have to spend the night at hotels or sneak out of his mom's house like an insubordinate teenager.

But this apartment, this space, was only a reminder of the leash she had him on. It was a reminder of his lack of autonomy.

He would always be Karla's son: no apartment or some semblance of physical distance from her would negate that fact.

"It's not mine. It's hers." Jasper pushed some of the closed boxes toward the wall.

Looking around the apartment, he felt almost as empty as the space itself.

"With that logic, so is everything else you own," Lucas scoffed. "You're so fucking spoiled, Jasper."

Lucas had put up with this act from Jasper for far too long. It was pathetic and beneath him.

"And you're not?"

Jasper wanted to bite back with something stronger, but the truth was, he didn't have it in him.

Not only physically, because he'd spent the entire day moving, but mentally. He couldn't fight with another person he cared about. It was futile.

"I'm not the one sulking after having just moved into a brand new apartment that I didn't pay a dime for."

Lucas made the comment under his breath, but Jasper heard it all the same.

"At what fucking cost?" He looked down toward the boxes and felt his chest sinking.

All of this, all of his material things didn't mean a thing to him.

"The cost? That's what this is about? We've all made sacrifices to get here. We've made them for her. Yours are pretty finite, if you ask me."