14
Summer 2023
New York
Farkle stood in front of the mirror to fix his tie, replicating a simple set of manoeuvres that he could complete within seconds. Once he was done, he took a step back to observe his reflection, which stared back at him tall, handsome, studious, and nothing like how he felt on the inside.
The boy was back in his old room, the one on the top floor of a sprawling apartment complex that overlooked Tribeca and the city beyond. Nothing much of it had changed since he left for college. The life-sized train tracks still looped through his room and into the next, while the planetarium on his ceiling remained spick and span. His eyes subconsciously wandered towards the tiny brown planet of Pluto, albeit a little ways off from the rest, but still the one that drew most of his attention.
"Mr Minkus," one of his housemaids suddenly popped into the room, "your father says it's time."
Farkle lowered his gaze back down from the ceiling and smiled. "Noted, Mrs Sanders. Thank you."
As the woman scuttled away, he threw a last glance at his reflection, taking in the pitch black shade of his suit and the way his hair was styled back.
It was time for him to channel a fragment of the Farkle Minkus he'd lost. And although he was able to latch onto that tiny piece like a leech for the few hours he had to entertain his guests, it would be drained by the end of the night and left to recharge for the next. Such was a cycle that repeated itself with every event he had to attend – a cycle which he was starting to get tired of as of late.
"You've got this," the boy murmured to himself, and then he stepped out of the room and into the hallway.
The event was held in the banquet hall of The Plaza, one of the finest hotels in New York City – complete with golden drapery and glasses of champagne which fizzed merrily in the hands of guests.
There were no justifications as to why the event was taking place, except for the fact that this was what rich men did. They threw huge parties and invited a hundred people just so they could strike a deal with one of them.
Farkle was holding on to a drink himself, taking little sips from it as he drifted methodically from person to person, armed with a welcoming smile. The guests – all high-flyers and owners of large companies – were absolutely enthralled with him, patting his shoulders and commenting, "oh, what a fine young man you've become!"
"I take after my father," the boy would respond with a gracious chuckle. "Though these days he says that I might surpass him any time soon. Frankly speaking, I think so too."
The people would then burst out laughing before giving him a firm clap on the back, and that would be his cue to move on to the next group.
After a little over an hour had passed, Farkle managed to escape into one of the balconies to catch a breather. But just as he was about to step towards the marble railings, he realized there was someone there as well, shrouded amongst the shadows.
"Farkle," a woman uttered in surprise.
The boy immediately recognized the voice as belonging to his mother, who confirmed his guess when she stepped into the light to reveal herself.
"Mom, what are you doing out here?" Farkle asked.
He quickly reached out to close the glass doors leading to the balcony and proceeded to pull the red curtains shut. It was just the two of them now – mother and son.
Jennifer Bassett Minkus absently swirled the glass of white wine in her hand as her gaze settled upon him. "I'm just taking a little break like you are," she said matter-of-factly.
The woman was a sight to behold in her long, admiral blue dress. In fact, just the way she carried herself was enough to intimidate the people around her. Or in the case of such parties, gain the respect and admiration of her peers.
However, Farkle had lived with his mother long enough to know when she was upset. He could see it in the glint of her eyes – glassy and hurt. She had been trying to maintain a tough front this entire time, putting her feelings aside for the sake of her husband's party, and there was no doubt that her pride also played a part in keeping her grounded. After all, what the Minkuses hated most was to let their personal affairs come in the way of work. Though unfortunately for them, their son was finding it increasingly hard to dissociate matters of the brain and heart.
"He forgot about your wedding anniversary again, didn't he?" Farkle guessed. He couldn't be bothered to hide his disappointment this time, or even compress the silent anger that was starting to rage inside of him.
Jennifer casted him a forlorn look. "Oh honey," she said, setting her drink down on the poseur table between them. "If I let such petty things affect me, I would've given up a long time ago."
She paused for a second before nodding her head, as if to affirm her own words. "He's a good man, Farkle. He is. It's just, good men are often so blessed with plenty that sometimes they forget what they already have."
Farkle looked away. "I'm sorry."
"Don't you be sorry or go about worrying for me, Farkle," Jennifer patted his cheek. "I'll be fine. Now go out and show them what the Minkuses are made of. I'll be with you in a minute."
The boy didn't want to leave his mother or the quiet warmth of the summer air, but dragging this out wasn't going to make the party any more desirable than it already was. So he decided to go, pushing the curtains aside and allowing the yellow glow of the hall to spill back into the balcony.
"Happy 23rd anniversary, mom," Farkle smiled before stepping back into the chatter-filled room.
As soon as the boy re-entered the place, Stuart Minkus rushed over to him with a patronising smile.
"Son! There you are," he declared, grabbing firmly onto the boy's arm as he led him away to a less-conspicuous corner of the hall. "Before I introduce you to Mr McConnery, there's something I'd like to say to you."
"What now?" Farkle quipped, feeling slightly annoyed.
Stuart adjusted his tie and cleared his throat. "Well, I think it would be a good idea if you started bringing a date to these events."
Farkle stared at the man, unblinking.
"I have a friend whose daughter you might be interested in taking to parties like this," he continued unabashed. "Consider it…a partnership of sorts. Based on my experience, people tend to take a man with a lady more seriously, rather than just you having to amble aimlessly around the place."
Farkle could hardly believe what he'd heard. His father had just stooped to a whole new level of bigotry.
"Dad," he whispered, "do you even hear yourself?"
Stuart rubbed his temples, looking equally frustrated. "I know that we've had our fair share of differences, Farkle, but I'm just trying to give you some advice which I think could really benefit you. Learn to hear me out, would you?"
The boy shook his head. "So that's what mom means to you, huh? An asset for you to covet? A woman to decorate your arm and show-off to the world?"
Stuart's eyes widened in shock as he raised a trembling finger towards his son. "How dare you paint me in such a regard! Your mother is one of the finest ladies I've met, and every single day I am grateful to have her as my wife!"
"If you were truly grateful, you would've at least bothered to remember that it's your wedding anniversary," Farkle glared back at him, slowly simmering. "I even reminded you about it just two days ago."
He felt his pulse leap with greater vehemence the more he thought about it. If this was the absolute sorry state he would be in when ruling the world, he no longer wanted to have any part to play in it.
"I'm done," the words spilled out from his lips, and oh, how good it felt to finally say it.
Farkle had known for a while that this was coming, but now that he actually said it out loud, he felt relieved, like he was shedding a mask that had developed into something worn and weary over the years. The Farkle Minkus he grew up becoming was not the one he was now. In fact, he still didn't have much of a clue as to who he really was, but at least he knew what he was not.
"What did you just say?" Stuart asked, appalled.
"I said I'm done," Farkle answered calmly. "I can't deal with this anymore."
"I did not raise you up to be a quitter, Farkle Minkus. We are not quitters," the man said through gritted teeth. There lay a hint of disbelief in his voice, the inability to comprehend that his son – his intelligent and wildly ambitious son – had actually said such a thing.
"Good luck with McConnery."
And as his father continued to stand rooted to the spot, anger holding him down, the boy turned on his heels and strode out of the banquet hall, away from all the superficiality and pretence.
Riley was at a quaint little café in Midtown West of New York, awaiting the arrival of Forest Meyers.
He had sent her a text just an hour ago requesting for their meeting to be pushed forth by a day. It wasn't the most convenient time for the girl, who had been busy trying to scrub clean the mess Maya had made after spilling oil paint on their carpet, but she was eventually chased out of the house by the paintbrush-wielding blonde.
So there she was now, sitting at a table under the shade of a tree that had grown within the recesses of the open area. The place was dimly lit by colourful, cotton ball lights strung up between brick walls, and on each table sat a burning candle that melted inside a wax-riddled casing – pretty befitting of its name as The Sundown Shack.
There weren't many people patronising the café at such a late hour, and Riley was mostly left to her own devices alongside a sole performer, who was strumming a little tune on his guitar.
She looked down to check her watch, which indicated the time to be already half past ten. The man was fifteen minutes late.
Just as she was about to whip out her phone to text him, Riley heard the soft thudding of footsteps moving across the stone ground. She turned around expectantly, only to be greeted by the sight of Farkle Minkus, panting and dishevelled. He had on a white dress shirt and black pants, while his necktie had been tugged loose around the collar.
She stared at him for a moment, taking in his sudden appearance.
"F-Farkle," she said as she rose up from her seat. "What are you doing here? I didn't know you were coming back to New York so soon."
Her eyes flickered to the empty chair across from her before landing back on him again. "Did you come alone? I'd love to chat but I'm waiting for someone else."
The boy stood there for a moment, as if contemplating what to say. He eventually shook his head and took a step forward.
"There's no need to wait any longer," he told her.
"What? Why?" Riley frowned, casting him a look of confusion.
"Because," Farkle sucked in a shaky breath, "he's right here."
A/N: Hello hello! I hope you all enjoyed this latest chapter :) Before I move on to some fun facts regarding my thought processes while writing this, I'd just like to say thank you for the sweet comments and constructive criticism. I've been writing for a preeeetty long time (since kindergarten, actually) and I'm glad that this fic has reached a stage where people care enough to actually leave me tips for improvement! But just to address one of the Guest's comments, I come from a country that takes after the UK spelling, so I guess I'm naturally inclined to spell words in that format as compared to those from the US. I don't think I can change my spelling for the rest of the story (it doesn't really make sense to do so either), but I'll definitely abide by it when the characters are speaking, so thanks for pointing that out for me :)
That aside, I used to take literature in junior college and one of the books we had to study was Philip Larkin's poetry collection. There's this one poem called Vers de société, where in the first few stanzas, Larkin describes the speaker as being frustrated with the superficiality of parties; having to engage in small talk and conversations that lack any real substance as opposed to doing something more productive and meaningful at home. This was the inspiration behind Farkle's experiences and feelings towards the social events he's attended, more of which will be touched on as the story continues.
Yup, so that was my random fun fact, haha. Sorry for leaving ya'll on a cliffhanger, but the next chapter is (hopefully) going to be worth it! Also, don't worry - Lucas, Josh, Zay & Maya's storylines are far from being over. They'll be making reappearances sooner than you know it!
And not to forget, THANKS FOR THE 100 FOLLOWS?! I appreciate the support that every single one of you have been showing this story thus far, so thank you, thank you, thank you! You guys are the best :') As a show of my gratitude, here's a short teaser for the next chapter:
"Trust me," Riley whispered, "I'm sorry too."
Feel free to leave a review and see you in the next one :)