A Trophy Father's Trophy Son
"Derby."
"F-Father? Hello...! Um, I was er, uhm, c-calling t-to..."
"Enough of that stuttering and stalling, boy! You've obviously called me for something. Hurry up, I'm busy." The gruff voice on the other end of the line barked. Derby gave a small sigh and traced circles onto the dark maple desk underneath his hand.
"My apologies, father."
"Sir."
"My apologies, sir."
"Much better. Now, what is it?"
Derby looked out the window, wondering why he had called Mr. Harrington in the first place. He frantically racked his brain for an excuse, anything but the truth.
If he told his father that he'd called him simply to hear his voice, he'd be deemed weak. Feeble. A horrible excuse for an heir.
"It was about the party today at home..." He finally mumbled.
"Social gathering. It is a social gathering, boy. I do hope you're not planning on speaking in that hoodlum form, young man."
Automatically, Derby straightened up and cleared his throat ever so slightly, as if Mr. Harrington were standing right in front of him, evaluating him at this very moment.
"Of course, sir. I just... Wanted to know, would you like me to wear my uniform, to show off where I attend school, or would you rather I wore a suit?"
Mr. Harrington's reply came with a mixture of annoyance and disappointment. "A suit, boy, a suit! Class comes with elegance, and subtlety! Isn't this obvious? Am I really wasting my time with you like this? Carry on with this attitude, and the company goes straight to William, understood?"
Gulping, Derby nodded. "Yes sir," he whispered.
"Good!" Mr. Harrington barked, and with that, he hung up.
Derby flinched, expecting a hand to slap him across the face, and was relieved when it never came.
That was certainly the upside to being at a boarding school. His father was never there when Derby aggravated him. It was only at his work parties-social gatherings-that Derby had to be extra careful as to not irritate Mr. Harrington, as Mr. Harrington would not hesitate to pull Derby into a more secluded room and let out his rage in the form of hits and blows.
He didn't understand why Mr. Harrington disliked him so much. He certainly hadn't done anything anger-worthy in his childhood-after all, Mr. Harrington was barely present when Derby still lived at home. Instead, night after night Derby would, at a young age, sit in his bed wondering where his father was, and when-if-he would return, almost like a personalized Hell.
Not that Mr. Harrington seemed to care.
It doesn't matter. He thought to himself. Daddy only hits us because he cares about us turning out well.
He looked down at his report cards, which he kept in a neat pile on the side of his desk. Of course, each was marked with A's in each class, even the ones he didn't like, such as shop and gym.
He took the pile, which was held together by a rubber band, and tucked it into his shirt pocket, just in case his father would want to show his work friends. Derby still had the scar from the last time he'd forgotten.
It served as some sort of permanent reminder.
He crept over to his closet and opened it in search of his most formal suit jacket. After choosing one, he placed it on himself carefully, making sure that the sleeves covered his scarred wrist.
What a sign of weakness! Cutting?! Are you trying to embarrass me, boy? Or should I say 'girl'?! His father had asked when he'd seen the scars, both fresh and old combined. Derby hadn't worn short sleeves ever since that discussion.
He sprayed on a slight touch of Versace cologne, and waited for the limousine his father had sent to pick him up. After about ten minutes, it arrived outside the front gates of the academy, and Derby climbed in, a bit surprised to see his mother. She was powdering her darkened, purple cheek, oversized black sunglasses sitting on her lap.
Derby's mouth made a small 'o' as he realized what'd happened. Mrs. Harrington glanced up at him with a smile and quickly looked back down, smile fading into a frown.
"You will not mention this. Not to your father, not to William, and certainly not to anyone at the social gathering."
He nodded slightly, understanding, and waited to arrive to the mansion in silence.
