Jonathan Mayers: Origins

Chapter Fourteen

Despite just waking up, Jonathan felt extremely drained and tired. The dream, and the fright of the smoke rushing down his throat, left a bitter taste in his mouth. He suddenly had an urge for coffee. He glanced at the clock on his bedside table; it was only three in the morning. Jonathan decided to go down to the kitchen and brew himself a cup.

However, upon reaching the kitchen, he discovered that he wasn't the only one who had the idea of an early morning snack. Luan Grimaldo was seated at the table, staring moodly into a mug which was in front of him. At the sound of the door closing, he looked up. A look of confusion passed over his face, as his eyes followed Jonathan as he walked towards the coffee pot.

" This is a suprise...you're here pretty early."

" Yeah," was all Luan grunted in reply.

Jonathan sighed; he wasn't in the mood for Luan's disinterested attitude. In fact, as he looked back on his interactions with the Argentine, Jonathan realized that they were filled with negativity and snide comments from Luan. He couldn't recall one instance where anyone hadn't faced Luan's blade of rudeness while talking to him; for although the little man was slow to wield it, when he did...it was deadly.

Despite this, Mayers still wanted to converse with his comrade. Taking his mug of coffee, he pulled out the seat directly across from Luan and sat down. Seeing that his companion didn't offer up any resistance to the intrusion, Jonathan decided to start a conversation.

" So why are you here...like...now? You don't strike me as a morning person, you know."

Luan looked up at him in disgust, but nonetheless answered. " I couldn't sleep, so I decided to come here and make a cup of tea before everyone else. I didn't expect anyone else to be up this early."

Ignoring the obvious tone of displeasure, Jonathan laughed awkwardly, and asked: " What was the matter? Bad dreams? Homesick?"

Shaking his head and rolling his eyes, Grimaldo responded with " No, of course not. Maybe I'm just nervous...considering in a few days we have to go out there and kill each other in cold blood, and for what? For a chance to work for a shitty organization anyway? And who would blame me for being nervous?" he added, as his tone soured considerably. " If you haven't noticed, I'm not the best when it comes to actual field work. I'll probably not make it out of that forest."

Jonathan shook his head. " I don't think so. You'll most likely be one of the five to graduate."

Luan glared across the table. " Don't say that...just don't let me hear you say that. Because, if we are on separate sides, we both know you'll kill me."

"No, I wouldn't," lied Jonathan. In his head, however, he was actually thinking how fun it would be...to encounter a weak, defenseless Luan, and to cut down that rude bastard with a hail of bullets....

" Anyway...why did you decide to come here so early?" Luan's voice cut into Jonathan's thoughts like a hot knife.

" Oh, me? I couldn't sleep either. Had a horrible nightmare."

" Really?" For the first time, Luan actually seemed interested in the conversation. " What, you dreamt of one of the others killing you or something?"

"No...it wasn't that. It was a weird dream...there was all this smoke...and a shadowy figure that seemed confused to see me....I can't explain it..."

Luan looked at Jonathan with a dumbfounded expression on his face. " I knew you were good, but not good enough to smuggle drugs in here. That has to be the dumbest dream I've ever heard."

" Yeah..I guess so..." For the second time, Jonathan laughed awkwardly. Luan was beginning to get on his nerves, with his degrading comments. As he was contemplating leaving without finishing the coffee, however, Luan switched the topic yet again.

"You know...I'm actually glad that you came here now of all times. I was wondering how I'd get you alone to talk to you about this...in fact I'd basically given up. I meant to ask you for a while now, in fact ever since the day you arrived."

Jonathan was instantly intrigued, although he was also slightly suspiscious. Being careful not to let either emotion show on his face, he responded with " Really? Well...what is it?"

Luan paused for a moment, staring into Jonathan's eyes. He then replied with a question of his own.

" Who was your father?"

Jonathan was taken aback. How could anyone here have any idea who or what his father was? Continuing to keep his calm facade however; he countered with " Why do you want to know?"

Luan then proceeded to tell the most incredible account Jonathan had ever heard, about how on the first day he followed Mitchell and Jonathan around, and after Mayers had retreated to his room, he, Luan, had eavesdropped on Carlos Tolido's office, where he heard a conversation between him and Mitchell, where Mitchell was warned about speaking about Mayer's father.

" So, therefore," Luan concluded, " I came to the conclusion that your dad is some important offical or something; and it would be a scandal for your name and JHF to be associated with him; hence why they don't want any of the recruits or guards or even teachers to know about it."

Jonathan took a moment to mull over his response to all this. It all made sense now, the way Mitchell had avoided him after that first day. But how could he even respond to this, when he didn't know who his parents where or what they did, other than what Matheus Plattenhardt told him?

" I...I can't help you there, sorry. Truth is, I don't know who my dad was. Never met him...he died before I was born." he lied; not even sure whether his father was alive for his birth.

The look of disappointment was evident on the Argentine's face. He had clearly been expecting a bit more, maybe a few drops of backstory.

Getting up, Luan said in his normal sarcastic but quiet tone, " Well, that's honestly too bad. My heart aches for you. However, that info...or lack of info, to be precise...it doesnt help me. Like, at all. So if you excuse me...I'll be off to bed."

And after making his way to the sink, pouring the rest of his tea down the drain, and depositing his cup in the sink, he did just that.

Jonathan Mayers was left sitting alone at the table...lamenting his past that he couldn't remember....that he knew nothing about.