Scribbles and Drabbles

Notebook Drabbles 68 - racers souls

Self-made men had a habit of being pricks in Antoine's experience, and the two men in front of him were no different. The two husbands both wore expensive clothes with intricate embroidery. Sean had metal shoulder pieces to mimic armour and gloves with rings to use in a tight spot. The former gladiator didn't like being weaponless, but there were many places he could not go if he insisted on keeping something on him. 

Both men had blue eyes. Antoine thought that as a child, he'd be able to tell which was his biological father by his eyes, but no. The second man shared more features with him. Sean gave Antoine his hair colour. Antoine's red was more copper, leaning closer to a natural shade, while Derick's grey was all clone genetics at its best.

Antoine eyed them coolly. The two didn't know what he knew; they didn't know he was related to them. 

"Can I help you, gentlemen?" Antoine asked. He had better things to do than to do a 'meet and greet' with people he never wanted to meet. "I'm a little busy today."

"I'm sorry, forgive my client's manners," his manager interrupted before Antoine could say something rude. He said some more platitudes, seeing credits. 

The husbands were known for sponsoring talent, provided that the talent catered to their whims. That was unfair. As for his research, the husbands had no trouble finding willing participants for their games. They didn't force people into their bed. They did get rid of them after they were bored, as the people were nothing. 

"You're a good racer," Sean said as Derick shatted with his manager, distracting him. "Handsome too."

"Thank you," Antoine warmed at the first comment but chilled at the second. They did not know. Being blunt would be rude. A subtle hint should suffice. "My uncle Jack taught me everything I know. Jack Slider? I think you've met?"

"Slider? You're one of Richard's sons," Sean said, eyes widening as he worked Antoine in with new eyes. "That explains the good looks. Your father is a beautiful man." The warmth and fondness in his voice surprised Antoine, but then his Dad said they parted under complicated terms.

"I'll let him know that you remember him so," Antoine smiled. "Now, if you excuse me?"

"Antoine, I'm sure it can wait?" His manager's half hissed at him, his smile way too big to mean anything good. The man would see him off to the highest bidder if Antoine gave permission, or without if he thought he could get away with it. 

"We're not taking any deals with them, so you can turn the dollar signs off," Antoine said, stepping away and heading towards the exit. He wanted to call his Dad. He had prepared to meet his donors a couple of times, but that meant nothing when it came to face-to-face interactions, especially with Derick sizing him up like a piece of meat. 

"Hold up," Derick said, moving in front of him with a charming smile. "You haven't heard us out?"

"I don't need to. Or have you forgotten how you parted with my Dad after your contract ended?" Antoine let his voice turn ice cold. 

His manager spluttered something, desperate to keep them as potential clients. Derick's eyes stopped sizing him up as bed material and turned bashful if anything.

"Things did end a little rocky with Rich," Derick said. "He's told you not to trust us?" 

"Among other things."

"That doesn't mean we couldn't be good to you," Derick asserted. "Our usual deals wouldn't work as that would be too weird, but we wouldn't be opposed to clearing the slate with your Dad. He was a good friend to us before it crumbled." Derick pulled out a datacard and offered it to Antonie.