Sinful Paths

Chapter Five

Andrew stood frozen in the doorway, his eyes wide as he took in the sight of Ian, a towel wrapped snugly around his waist, droplets of water glistening on his skin. The air felt thick with tension, and Andrew’s heart raced as his mind struggled to process the moment.
“Daddy,” Andrew blurted out before he could stop himself, the world slipping from his lips like a secret he never intended to share.
Ian raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eye. “Did you just call me daddy, Andrew Li–”
“NOPE NOPE NOPE!” Andrew interrupted, panic surging through him. Without another thought, he turned on his heel and bolted out of the bathroom, the sound of his own heart drowning out everything else as he fled from the unexpected revelation.

Ian strolled into the kitchen, clad in nothing but sweatpants, his bare chest glistening from the remnants of his workout. He immediately spotted Cohen gazing out the window, while Andrew sat across from Nancy, a bowl of popcorn in his lap, completely engrossed  in whatever was happening on the phone.
“Andrew Lilac, you have some explaining to do–” Ian started, but before he could finish, Andrew spun around, mouth full of popcorn.
“NOM NOM I CAN’T HEAR YOU NOM NOM!” he shouted, his cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk.
Nancy looked over her tea, a mischievous smile dancing on her lips. “I think Moto Moto likes you,” she chimed in, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
Andrew’s eyes widened in shock, and Ian mirrored his expression, both caught off guard by Nancy’s unexpected comment.
“Nancy, what on earth–” Ian began, trying to make sense of the chaos.
“I said this tea is really nice,” she replied, taking a leisurely sip, completely unfazed.
Ian’s face went blank, processing the absurdity of the moment. “Anyway.. Andrew Lilac–”
But before he could continue, Andrew bolted from the kitchen, yelling, “JANIS!”
Ian blinked, surprise washing over him. “Who on earth is Janis?” he muttered, bewildered by Andrew’s sudden outburst.
Cohen walked up behind Ian, a knowing smirk on his face. “Trust me, you don’t wanna know.”

Nasser lounged in their dorm room, a wide grin plastered on his face as he cradled a steaming cup of hot chocolate. Across from him, Janis glared, her frustration palpable. Unbeknownst to them, Andrew slipped in quietly, settling onto the couch by the window, his eyes glued to the unfolding drama.
“GIVE ME BACK MY HOT CHOCOLATE!!” Janis shouted, her voice echoing off the walls.
“SLURP SLURP SLURP,” Nasser replied, defiantly slurping the drink with exaggerated satisfaction.
In a fit of rage, Janis kicked Nasser, who yelped, “OUCH MY SKIDADDLE SKIDOODLE NOODLE!” as he tumbled to the floor. Janis’s anger quickly morphed into laughter, her amusement evident.
“You two are weird..” Andrew muttered under his breath, shaking his head.
Janis jumped, startled by his sudden presence. “NASS, THERE APPEARS TO BE A GHOST IN OUR DORM!” she exclaimed, her eyes wide with mock horror.
Andrew’s expression shifted to shock, while Nasser remained sprawled on the ground, still recovering from Janis’s kick.
“NASS?! SHOOT, I KILLED HIM!” Janis cried, pulling out a toy gun with a flourish. “MR. GHOST.. OR MISS GHOST.. OR NON-GENDER SPECIFIC GHOST.. SHOW YOURSELF!”
Andrew’s face went blank as he processed the absurdity of the scene. “So, so weird,” he remarked, half-amused.
Janis turned to him, her fear evaporating as she tucked the toy gun away. “Hey Andy, wanna go ghost hunting together?”
Andrew thought for a moment, wishing he had stayed at Ian’s to get some work done. “Sure,” he finally replied, trying to sound enthusiastic.
Janis’s face lit up. “HELL YEAH!” she cheered, her excitement infectious.
Suddenly, Nasser sat up, confusion written all over his face. “Huh?”
Without missing a beat, Janis spun around, screamed, and kicked him squarely in the face, her laughter ringing out once more as Andrew shook his head, bemused by the chaos.

In the dim light of the gym, Ian lay on the mat, sweat glistening on his toned torso as he pushed through another set of sit-ups. The rhythmic crunch of his body against the floor echoed in the otherwise quiet space. Just as he felt the burn in his core, the door swung open, revealing one of Ian’s bodyguards, Markus, light-skinned guy with white hair, his expression a mix of urgency and apprehension.
“Sir, Miss. Scarlet is here,” Markus announced, his voice cutting through Ian’s concentration.
Without pausing his workout, Ian replied, “Bring her in.”
Markus hesitated, glancing back toward the door. “Are you sure? She looks pi–”
“Just bring her in,” Ian interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument.
“Okay, sir,” Markus nodded, retreating from the room.
Moments later, the door burst open again, this time revealing Parris, her blonde hair a wild halo around her furious expression. “IAN RYDER!” she shouted, her voice sharp and commanding.
Ian paused mid-sit-up, his brow furrowing as he pushed himself up to sit, grabbing a nearby water bottle. “What, Parri–”
“I want that accountant of yours gone. NOW!” Parris demanded, her eyes blazing with frustration.
Surprised for a fleeting moment, Ian’s face went blank, the humor of the situation lost in her intensity. “Haha, funny joke. It sounds like you’re trying to tell me what to do,” he replied, a smirk creeping onto his face.
“Get rid of him, Ryder,” Parris insisted, her voice unwavering.
“No,” Ian stated flaky, brushing past her with an air of indifference as he walked out of the room.
Parris stood there, momentarily taken aback by his dismissal, before her surprise morphed into determination. She quickly turned on her heels and sprinted after him, her heels clicking against the floor, the tension between them crackling in the air.

Ian stood in the middle of the living room, casually sipping from his water bottle, when Parris burst through the door, her anger palpable.
“I’M BEING SERIOUS IAN!” she shouted, her voice slicing through the tension in the air. “HE’S RUINING EVERYTHING! He’s ruining us,” she pressed, desperation creeping into her voice.
He turned to face her, his expression blank, as if her fury barely registered. “There is no ‘us,’” he replied coolly.
Parris’s eyes widened in surprise, the weight of his words settling heavily between them.
Ian shrugged, unfazed. “We’re not real. This is all just for publicity. You know that.” He continued, his tone unyielding. “This is just to help your mother’s company and mine.”
Heartbroken, Parris felt tears welling up in her eyes. “But Ian.. you can’t say that! All the times we woke up next to each other–”
“Just get out. I’m going to call your mother later and inform her of your behavior,” Ian interrupted, his voice steady and resolute.
As if on cue, Andrew slipped into the room, dressed in dark clothes and a mask, hoping to sneak past the escalating confrontation.
“I’m telling her that this ‘deal’ and fake relationship between you and I is over,” Ian added, not even glancing at Andrew.
Andrew froze, curiosity piqued by the tension, listening intently.
“You WILL regret this, Ryder,” Parris shot back, her voice laced with a mix of anger and sorrow.
“Get out,” Ian commanded, his patience wearing thin.
With a final glare, Parris stormed out, leaving Ian alone with the lingering tension. It was then that he noticed Andrew’s peculiar outfit, confusion flickering across his face. What on earth is he wearing? Ian thought, bemused.
Before Ian could say anything, Andrew, realizing he had been spotted, bolted from the room, Ian following him with a smile, the absurdity of the moment breaking through the heaviness of the earlier confrontation.

Ian walked into Andrew’s room, a playful smile dancing on his lips. “Shortcake, what on earth are you wearing?” he teased, taking in the sight before him.
Andrew, startled, naked off the mask and dark outfit, revealing his shirtless frame clad only in shorts. He spun around, annoyance etched on his face. “GET OUT!”
Ian’s smile faltered as he caught a glimpse of Andrew’s body, his eyes widening in shock. “Andrew, where did you get all of those scars from?”
Surprised by the question, Andrew’s expression shifted, sadness creeping in as he turned away. “I- it doesn’t matter.”
Impatience flared within Ian, his voice rising with frustration. “TELL ME!”
The sudden intensity startled Andrew, and he whipped around, his voice rising in a mix of sadness and anger. “IT DOESN’T MATTER!! PLEASE JUST– STOP!”
Ian blinked, taken aback by the outburst, his expression falling into a blank stare. “Fine. I’ll stop.”
Andrew turned away, a wave of sorrow washing over him. “Wait..”
He pivoted back to face Ian, a flicker of curiosity in his eyes. “You only called me Andrew?”
“Is that a problem, shortcake?” Ian shot back, a teasing glint returning to his gaze.
“N- no.. it’s just you usually call me–”
Before he could finish, Ian closed the distance, wrapping an arm around Andrew’s waist, pulling him in close while locking eyes, a smirk playing on his lips. Andrew felt a rush of heat flood his cheeks.
“Because I usually call you Andrew Lilac?” Ian stated, his tone playful yet sincere.
“..Yes..” Andrew murmured, caught off guard.
“Well, I guess you could say I care about you?” Ian’s voice softened, the teasing edge replaced with something deeper.
“You hardly know me, Mr. Ryder,” Andrew replied, attempting to maintain his composure.
“I know a lot more about you than you think,” Ian countered, his confidence unwavering.
“Fine then.. What do you know?” Andrew challenged, curiosity piquing despite himself.
“I know that you have a distant cousin named Leban Mitchell,” Ian replied, a hint of mischief in his tone.
Andrew’s eyes widened in surprise. “How do you know about–actually.. don’t answer that..”
Ian’s expression turned serious, the playful banter fading. “Although, I didn't know about your scars..”
Andrew’s voice was barely above a whisper, but the weight of his words hung heavy in the air. “No one does..”
Ian furrowed his brow, confusion etching lines across his forehead. “Not even your parents?”
The silence that followed felt like an eternity, stretching between them like an unbridgeable chasm. Andrew’s eyes darted away, his expression a mix of pain and frustration. “..not even them..”
A moment passed, thick with unspoken emotions, until Andrew’s resolve broke through the tension. “I think you should go.”
Ian, undeterred, continued to hold Andrew close, his grip gentle yet firm. “Did I do something wrong?”
The question pierced through Andrew’s defenses, igniting a fire of irritation within him. “Leave. Now. I ain’t saying it again.”
“Andrew Lila–”
“LEAVE!” The command echoed in the room, leaving no room for argument. Ian’s heart sank at the desperation in Andrew's voice, but he knew better than to push.