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You would think my parents would let me know they would be out of town for a week, but I guess not.
After their business meeting last night, I was expecting to be scolded in the morning for something stupid as usual, but the house is eerily quiet.
Not that I really care where they are, I'm just surprised that the butler informed me instead of my own parents.
"Ah, Mr. Payne. At your mother's request, a breakfast platter was made and is sitting on the dining table."
"Oliver, how many times have I told you to call me Liam when my parents aren't here?" I say jokingly, allowing our butler to loosen up a little bit with my parents absent.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Mr.-Liam, I mean." Oliver cracks a small smile, but I can still tell it isn't genuine.
Oliver has been a part of the Payne mansion since I was born, and we have only cracked the surface of our conversations. He's probably the only person I can trust in this household.
All kinds of people come throughout the Payne mansion daily like maids, cooks, gardeners, etc.
However, Oliver is the one person who has always gone the extra mile for my consolation.
Even though my parents ignore my discomfort, Oliver will always knock on my door to check on me. Even if we are discussing important matters at the dinner table, he will find a distraction for me to escape the situation, risking his job at every chance.
My parents are starting to notice his diversion attempts, though, and I know he is on his last straw.
Mother and Father will have to pry his body from my cold, dead hands if they want to fire him.
I won't let him get fired. Not in my presence.
"Come on, join me for breakfast" I smirk and gesture to the dining room. "They're not here to stop you."
With a shake of his head and a slight smile, he sighs, "Mr. P-Liam, you are going to get me in so much trouble one day."
"I can't be a perfect child forever," I shrug,
following the fresh scent of omelets and various fruits.
Entering the dining room usually darkens my mood, but with my parents gone, it's not as bad.
God, I hate this place. Every time l'm in here, my parents want to tell me something ridiculous, thinking that food will somehow make up for whatever horrendous thing they say. Whether it's a new arranged date for business advantages, showing up to their product releases, or even just attending a meeting to get a taste of the business life, I don't want it and never will.
I pull a chair out at the table and look at Oliver. I straighten my imaginary bow tie and say, "Please, good sir, take a seat."
Oliver barks out a laugh but abruptly stops when he remembers where he is.
