Heartthrob of Aclea

Chapter 7 - Dad

Inside the main hallway of home sweet home – not exactly sure whether this grand palace was homey enough for me, to be very honest – I was greeted by thrilling voices of Dad and Brian, fencing against each other in a lounge. I tiptoed to one of the slightly opened doors and leaned in safely to watch and learn some difficult steps of poking with a silvery looking stick in their hands while wearing an ugly whitish suit. They were laughing at the silliness act of Brian, who had his shoe stuck with his own stick. Dad looked like he was floating in the air, pretty chuffed he had raised a good man like Brian. Deep down, in the core, I felt a tinge of jealousy. Dad would never crack a smile when he was with me.

I didn't mind being second-best. I didn't mind of not becoming a powerful King. What mattered the most to me was that I wanted to get acknowledged by my own father as much as Brian got. I just wanted to be equal. Yet, all he saw in me was his best mistake. His supposedly unborn second child.

I remembered when it was my high school graduation, parents and relatives came down to cheer the victory of their children's meanwhile I was crying to Mum, blaming destiny why could not I get a father like everyone else. He did not congratulate me, let alone stapling together with crowds of fathers that tirelessly shouted 'that's my son!', 'I'm proud of you, son!' and 'my children are the best!'

Feeling a concoction sentiment of sadness and upset was an understatement. I walked on the stage to receive the award and I turned away, about to pose for photographers when I saw Mum mouthing 'you are amazing' from afar. She might have been catching a glimpse of me staring at the crowds, a few minutes ago. Half-smiling, flashes of cameras filled in and I pictured myself in a white coat with a stethoscope on my neck like today.

At last, they caught their breath and smashed on the couch near the fireplace. I cupped my ear to catch whatever they were sharing.

'I'm to visit Goldcrest and Arkenville. It's time for you to know more about the people and the people, their future King.'

'Sounds sick! Can Aaron tag along? The trip is going to be more fun–'

'Or more disastrous.' Dad snapped. An odium grimace grew on his face, hands crossing. 'This is not a fun time. Aaron is irrelevant in this conversation. He won't take any of this seriously.'

'You'll never know if you never try. He might be irrelevant but he might want to see the world the way I see it. And people should know more about my baby brother too.' Could he drop the B word? Cringed out of me!

'One doesn't have to know any unimportant things related to us. If you are the people, would you like to know about King's little brother? Will you be able to address him properly when they ask you on the streets?'

I could hear the sharp sound of truth piercing my heart. Disappointed but not surprised. This was not the first time Dad undervalued me, however, I could not stop the pain from crawling up my soul.

Brian let out a sigh with a hint of disapproval. His effort to convince Dad were futile. The room was so quiet all I could hear was the cracking sound of woodpile hungrily engulfed by the fire. The dim light from the fireplace was casted on Brian's face, accentuating every creases on his face. He was four years older than me and he was more mature than a twenty-eight year old man should behave. I'd always been in awe of how he could pull himself together. Countless times we fought together – mostly because of my undying jealousy – they would be broken off by him making utmost sincere apologies for Dad's unfairness. It was literally not his fault but the other side of me – the cheeky side of me – enjoyed listening to his almost a plea. He was a good brother. The best brother in the world, perhaps. Never on earth, would I admit this. Enough only me to hear my own heart.

ZAPP!

Mum slapped my back and I was swiftly drifted back to reality; I fell down to her feet whilst accidentally banging the door, causing Brian and Dad to jump in surprise.

'Why are you sniffing around like a lost dog? Is that my brooch?' She pointed directly to a shimmering form on my coat, at the chest part.

'Hello to you too.' I stood up and brushed off the dust. 'The button was nowhere to be found. Your brooch looked suitable to replace, so I just attached it here.' I playfully furrowed my brows at her and said 'I don't want to carelessly expose my chest. Girls couldn't help drooling if they see it.'

'You wear a t-shirt underneath. Hypothesis is denied.' She raised her hand and waved my theory away.

'I'm not sniffing like a dog. I am... err... polishing this knob. See, it's mucky.' Motioning my hand on the doorknob, I noticed Dad and Brian were striding their way here. Mum put on a long face, unsatisfied with a white lie that I'd dropped. Ignoring my inaudible laughter, she then faced Brian and sparks of joy seemed to appear in her eyes. She walked him to the reading room, giving me a clue that she would want to speak about 'the subject' – relationship, wife, marriage etc. – and to get some space where she could suggest numberless names of suitable royalty for Brian without me joining in. In the Book of Aaron, this had been written as the second thing that cringed me. I took my hands out and started to count how many women Brian had dated through all these years.

This time, if Mum forced him to date one more time, it would be his fifth. All four dates were ended up either Brian disliking the particular ladies because of their lack of interest in helping him to reign over Aclea or leaving Brian with a broken heart for being guiltily unfaithful – when a good guy met ungrateful bitches, this would happen.

Not to forget, all the dates were conducted by me – at the backstage – because Brian saw it as a must. He knew they were going to be unfortunate without my guidance as he would become an awkward little bean when it came to welcoming women. It was kind of saddening that the dates only succeeded during the dark of the night and came to fail for the next sunrise.

Brian and I were greatly opposite. Certainly, I was not compatible of having a serious relationship, never mind building a strong marriage with the same woman until death do us apart.

Tough luck, Brian. Mum really wanted you to wed quickly as soon as you were on the throne.