Framed Connection

Pieces Torn Apart

Marcel doesn't know why he's willingly driving himself to the Helaria Hotel charity auction. He'd somewhat hoped that Lucas would talk him out of it or tell him it's not worth it. Now he's contemplating if he should stop answering calls from his parents altogether or just block them. However he knows the latter is not possible as they have his gallery hanging over his head. If only he hadn't turned to them for help at some point with helping him with the gallery.

Now he's about an hour and a half away from the hotel. It's not he even needs to be there as it's just a networking event disguised as a event in the name of charity. Over the phone his parents told them that it's good for their reputation for him to be there. Yet the thing was he has nothing to do with their reputation. Plus they have another son who would fit well in a business centric social gathering than him. He could easily win them some good contracts and connection better than he ever could.

It just feels like another coaxing attempt for him to see that it's not that bad dabbling into business and to quit the gallery. In a sea of high rise buildings that glisten under the afternoon rays. His mood dampens as he drives closer to the hotel. When arriving at Helaria Hotel he sees that they've provided ballet parking. "Oh great." Marcel thought sarcastically. Knowing his parents they've probably bribed the ballet to keep his car hostage. They'd make him virtually stranded so he has no choice but to network with them. He dreads the thought as that's most likely to happen.

Seeing as they'd try anything so they can push him off as the potential heir to their conglomerate to business partners and investors. Even though time and time again he'd told them he wants no part in their business. Their pushing being the soul reason he left Paris in the first place. Marcel reluctantly hands his car over to the ballet and heads through the lobby. He followed the signs leading him to the banquet hall where the event was being held. The staff at the door greeted him and handed him a brochure with the list of items being auctioned off at the event.

He politely took it and hoped he could sneak in unnoticed. Just wanting to stick himself in the corner somewhere for the few minutes he planned to be there. Nevertheless as he's walking in he makes eye contact with his father from across the room. Seeing his father in his dark blue tailored suit holding a champagne flute surrounded by a group he recognized as his golfing buddies. Marcel hesitantly walks over seeing there's no way around it

"Marcel, I've been wondering when you we're going to show. Come say hello to Mr Gallivan." Marcel cursed under his breath for having been caught so quick or even at all. He walks over to the group standing by his father.

"This is Marcel? He's grown so much since the last time we met. How have you been garçion?"

"It's a pleasure seeing you again Mr Gallivan. I've been quite fine thank you." Marcel says but he'd much rather never see any of these salt and pepper grained mogals ever again.

"Yes, indeed he has. If I knew any better I think he's surpassed me by now." His father stated acting like a doting father.

"Voilà, Len, tes attentes trop élevées et exagérées." [There you have it, Len, your expectations are too high and exaggerated.] Mr Gallivan says, one thing Marcel knows is that his father hates being addressed casually especially in a setting like this one. He especially hates when people make underhanded comments about him wanting Marcel to take over. Mr Gallivan knows this, just wanting to get under his father's skin. "As always, but let the young man speak for himself."

Marcel knows the relationship is only civil and strictly business, nothing else. He could never understand why people would go to events just to converse with people they have no care for. That why he always hated these circles as everyone in them are just a bunch of opportunists. For him it's nothing but a toxic, suffocating and disgusting environment.