Gillaume Men #01: Ranzar Craestok

CHAPTER 4: Laurent meets Craestok

~ Ranzar Craestok ~

I was still half asleep when my mother came knocking to my house early in the morning to cook breakfast and check up on me again.

"Darling, please touch your food already. It's been there for a straight 40 minutes", she exclaimed as we sat at the dining table. She, was busy drinking tea and reading the tabloids, while me, busy staring at the food.

"Why are you even here mother?".

"Because I have something to tell you", she paused, "Remember our talk about you inheriting your father's company— where you reluctantly agreed on going on social events again right?" she asked and I just nodded.

Our last talk about me inheriting that senile man's company did not end quite well on my end. The board of directors and shareholders were insistent on me being the next CEO, and Mother couldn't do anything about it since the lawyers were also involved. And even if I don't claim it, Mother was not in that man's will.

So rather than convincing them 'out' of the idea of me being the CEO, she convinced me instead to enter the 'society limelight' once more. I didn't want to do it at first, but I thought, maybe I could use this as an opportunity to show the board that I was unqualified--- and also, Mother threatened to hire maids for my house. 

Two of the things I hate in this world are people invading my space and ruining it, another is people who insist on letting themself in my life.

"Yes, of course, I remember", I said.

"Then to start your re-entering to society, the Westbrooks are gonna have their annual charity ball next month, you'll attend with me and with no questions asked darling", she said. "And as I see your current state, you can't appear and make it obvious to the media and public that you didn't care enough for yourself, so I asked my good friend and one of C.C Cosmetics' biggest partners from France to fly here in California and make you over", she said and I looked at her and glared. And she ignored it.

"You can't possibly be serious about that right now Mother?!" I exclaimed as I try to control myself.

"Yes, my darling. You can't enter high-class society looking like that— messy hair and hairy body" she said as she points at me.

"I know you don't care about your appearance at all but that's not passable. You look much worse than a person who didn't go outside for thousands of years, my son", she continued. All I could do was just sigh.

She's still my mother. I remind myself. Normally I would have flipped out and probably destroyed the chair I'm sitting at. 

I'm not used to people being around me after many years of cooping and holing myself in this house--- my very own abode. My mother tried to hire people to be with me when I started living here, but I talked her out of it. 

That's why I'm used to being alone. No one trying to fix my things for me. No one trying to form a bond and struck up a conversation. I don't need them as far as I'm concerned. And now, Mother wants to invite someone for a makeover. Stupid. Just very stupid and unnecessary.