Project: One Night Stand (HIATUS)

Chapter 1: A family Affair

"Your children are not your children. They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself. They came through you but not from you and though they are with you yet they belong not to you."

-Khalil Gibran

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You are a disgrace to the family!" His father snarled, blue-gray eyes gleaming like a cold and sharp rapier as he punched his son.

"Nicholas, no!" His horrified mother rushed to his fallen son to comfort and somewhat shield him.

Instead of relenting, he smirked at his father as he carelessly wiped the blood that came out from his busted lips. "I am fine, mother, you can now let go of me." He stiffly said to his mother as he removed her hands from him. He stood and stared at his father with equally cold blue-gray eyes; his smirk more taunting. "Do you actually think you can intimidate me? Fail. You need to try a little bit harder if that is what you actually want to do."

"Son!" Her mother gasped, scandalized by her son's disrespectful behavior.

His father swiftly walked to him, closing the distance, and violently grabbed him by the collar of his white tennis shirt. "How dare you!"

"How dare me," he merely mocked his father as if he found the situation humorous.

"You know what I can do," his father hissed in a warning. His eyes dilated with extreme ire.

"Of course, I do," he said bitterly then he directed his eyes to his mother. "And mother knows too"

His father clenched his jaw and bored his menacing gaze to his son. "I can disinherit you!"

"Oh, I am afraid," his son chuckled sarcastically seemingly unaffected. "Why don't you do that, old man? I don't f*cking give a sh*t!"

His father pushed him back to the floor and kicked him hard on the ribs. He groaned in pain, for finite a moment, hurt was visible in his eyes, but a chilling coldness replaced it.

His mother ran back to him and cried hysterically. "Nicholas, please do not hurt him. He is your son!" His mother pleaded as she embraced her son.

"He does not know how to respect me! Discipline must be instilled into that hard-headed and thick skull of his -- you are too lenient with him; look what your leniency has done him!" He angrily snapped at his wife; blaming her for his son's attitude.

His wife timidly bowed her head, seemingly subdued thus she became silent. A torrent of tears fell from her eyes.

He looked at his mother and suddenly, disappointment filled his eyes as he looked at his meek and submissive mother. He looked at his father with ire and indignation. "I am a bit surprise to hear the word discipline from you, old man -- it does not suit you. Aren't you disgusted with yourself?"

His father moved to kick him again but his sarcastic laugh stilled him. "Go on, hurt me - that is the only thing you are good in anyway."

"You ungrateful bastard!"

"Wow, and I am a bastard now?" He spat in irony before he laughing dryly. "Do you want me to introduce you to them?"

"You will steer away from the things that do not concern you!"

"Are you sh*tting me?" He asked incredulously while eying his father with impertinence. "Isn't it ironic? People regarded you with so much respect because of your pristine reputation and unparalleled morals but little do this people or, more aptly, leeches know that you are not what they think you are. The media has only exposed the shallow part of you which is far from what you really are beneath. What do you think will they react if they learn that someone as great and faultless as you has actually a lot of dirty skeletons in his closet?"