Title: The Blackmail Scandal
Characters: Miles, Drew, Tristan, Clare, Hollingsworth family
Summary: When Miles loses his phone a scandal begins as a reporter digs up his secrets. Multi-chapter fic. Miles, Drew, Tristan, Clare. A weird quadrangle of ships. Continuation of previous one-shot. WIP. Driles.
Setting: Soon after Firestarter. An AU based off my previous one-shot. Reading it is optional; it was a sex fic. As a result, you will be given all relevant details for this fic within this fic.
Notes: Be aware that this is a sequel to a one-shot as stated above.
Warnings: Alcohol use and addiction, mentions of recorded sex of a 16 year old.
Chapter 1: Suffocate by Fire
Miles groaned, and not for the first time tonight as he relaxed back in his chair in a posture purely to annoy his dad. Here he was, stuck at one of his father's dinners. "It'll bring us together after the fire," his mother had said. Damn lies - though he wasn't sure if his mother was aware how delusional she was.
Things has been tough at home ever since he had accidently, mostly, set fire to his school. Again. Added on to the conflagration was the fact that he and his siblings stood together against their father - and that sent their lives into the inferno. He recalled Frankie shaking, angry and on the verge of tears, as she saw her father for who he was. She had almost died in the fire that day and all he was interested in was the press conference where she would take the fall for degrassinudes. He didn't care about her, her reputation and whether she did it or not despite her denial. What mattered to him was how it affected his career.
And as Miles sadly informed her of the facts that their father only cared for himself, the cold truth that had been eating him for years, everything changed. He felt it as Hunter stepped forward. "It's true, he spoke. "He hit Miles."
And in that moment, their father lost all their kids. He backed away giving them this fight, fire in his eyes. Because they were his kids, they would come home, and then they would forget this ever happened.
And that was why they were at this dinner – in a dress suit he hated pretending to support a father he couldn't stand. It had been quiet at the Hollingsworth house as everyone avoided speaking to one another, the only contact being the occasional touch of reassurance among him and his siblings. His mother tried to start conversation often only to meet dead silence. He hated to see the disappointment on her face as her dreams for a loving family came crashing down in a cataclysm that had been approaching for years. But, he reasoned, it was her fault too; she knew what his father was capable of and put up with it anyway to keep up appearances. But he forgave her out of love and pity, and that was why he was here tonight at his father's dinner.
His eyes spoke volumes for how he felt about being here. A look at his siblings showed they shared the same disgust. They were props being used by their father to usher forward his political career. And so they sat, finding some measure of solace in the rich food beneath them, as they did their best to block out the ramblings of their father as he tried to 'wow' his constituents. His gut twisted as he heard the phrase 'my son.' "Here it goes," Miles thought, rolling his eyes. "Let's see how he twists this one into something beneficial to him."
"And now for the topic of the night," his father began. "I'm sure we all heard what happened at Degrassi this past week. And let me assure you that it was a complete accident. My son has had a hard time recently. He's a troubled kid." At this his father paused and smiled at him like a snake. It made Miles' fist clinch in anger, but the audience would eat it up. The speech continued.
"We sent him off to boarding school to grow as a person. He was a sweet, innocent kid, but he was used by girls for money. And then they accused him of arson he certainly didn't commit. Now I know, I know it sounds suspicious considering recent events, but I know my son didn't do it. The fire this time was an accident, driven by stress and fear due to his private life as a homosexual being revealed to the public before he was ready to deal with such attention. Please, don't think poorly of my son for his accident. We have already arranged for him to serve 200 hours of community service in addition to me paying for all the damages! Let's have a cheer for new beginnings!" His father stated as the audience roared in support.
Miles' face was flushed. This was all news to him – the details at least. It was hardly new for his father to talk out of his ass when using his kids to his advantage. It truly was the irony of his father's speech. Defend his son by claiming immaturity in the face of public attention, only to call down more public attention on him.
He stood up, shaking slightly though likely imperceptible to anyone else. The gazes of the dinner guest were on him as they cheered for his father. He stormed from the hall and into the hallways, taking a deep breath of the cool air to calm his nerves. He leaned against the wall as he pulled out his phone. He needed to talk. Winston? He was never any help and would only chirp obedience like his mother. Maya? No, he couldn't trouble her any longer. It wasn't fair. Tristan? Tristan hated him. He was, after all, a user. Drew? His finger hovered over his contact recalling the last time that Drew had helped him overcome his anger at his father. But no, he couldn't bother Drew. It wasn't his right to drag Drew into this. And he slumped to the floor against the wall, dropping his phone to his side.
His stomach clenched at the thought of going back to school next week. He would likely be put to work in the cafeteria for the term while everyday dealing with the harsh calls of 'pscyho' whispered under breathes as his classmates harassed him for trying to burn down the school in a hissy fit. His shoulder blades already ached at the thought of some jock shoving him into the lockers muttering 'rich boy' knowing that the only reason he wasn't in juvie was because of his father's money.
And that was the easy part. His father had announced his sexuality to the world – or at least his interpretation of it. He was still uncertain of that himself though the blanket term of homosexual felt wrong in some way. Truth be told he had only ever had sex with two guys; which, while both were amazing experiences, didn't erase his interest in girls. In Maya. Until now, the issue of his sexuality had been relatively quiet with most people assuming his relationship with Tristan was misconstrued by the media or an act on his part to mock his father. But now his father had claimed him as gay to the world. And he felt suffocated at the thought as his future loves and would-be friends were confined in a box with him.
He jerked to awareness to his surroundings, breathing hard, as a hand shook him. He looked. A woman with dark hair and the first sketches of wrinkles on her face, probably in her mid 30s. A reporter. "Not now," he murmured, as he stood up and began to walk away. He yanked his arm from her and she reached out to grab him. "I'm serious."
She ignored him. "Care to tell me how you feel about your father's speech?" she asked.
He ignored her as he sped his walk to the exit.
"I'll get this scoop; I always do!" he heard as he left. He ran to his car in a huff, happy he had insisted on driving here alone to avoid his father earlier that evening. He turned on the radio to help him drown out his thoughts. "Thinking. Bad!" he forced himself to think, realizing he sounded like a two year old but not caring. If there was one thing he learned at boarding school it was that the best way to block out thoughts was Taco Bell and vodka. Or whiskey. "Or both," he thought nodding at his plan as he sped off.
So he drove to Taco Bell and then straight to home to concoct a cocktail by pouring half of his Taco Bell coke into the sink before refilling the cup with arbitrary amounts of vodka and whiskey each to the rim.
And as he was shoving a taco into his mouth, the first flares of tipsiness coursing through his blood, he remembered dropping his phone.