The Usual
(Wednesday Evening, July 10th)
"Good Evening, King Ben," the brunette smiles.
"It's just Ben," he reminds her.
"Policy says I need to use your title," she informs.
His eyes narrow, "Since when?"
"Since a waiter informally addressed Queen Leah."
Belle half laughs, "She always did like to play the victim."
The waitress looks back at Ben, "If you don't mind me asking…" and she unsurely points to her face.
Ben touches the scratches on his right cheek, "Right." before he half smiles. "Cats don't like to be touched, I guess."
Her eyebrows raise, "A cat?"
"Did I say cat?" Ben enunciates. "I meant dragon."
She grins, "Trouble in paradise?"
Ben frowns, "You could say that."
"Well, maybe I can make you feel better." Bridget places the pen over her clipboard, "Would you like the usual?"
"The usual?" Ben unsurely responds. "Uh… no." He falters, "Just a steak and, um, a chicken basket with Diet Coke." He faces his mother, "Would you like mozzarella sticks?"
"Sure," she smiles. "And a salad with milk."
"Right," Ben turns back to Bridget. "So, um, mozzarella sticks too."
"So, the usual, then?" she offers an amused look.
Ben grumbles, "Yes."
"Would you like macadamia nut cookies with that?"
"Yes," he slowly admits, before he frowns at her. "She's going to want coconut milk."
She jots it down, before her sky-blue eyes meet him, "Did you want to try the juice?"
"The juice?" Ben questions.
"Before," she reminds him, "you said you might want to try the juice next time, which would be this time."
"Oh!" Ben recalls, "The juice." before he darts his eyes from his mother to her and awkwardly smiles. "Uh… not this time."
She nods, "Will that be all?"
"Yes," Belle answers for him. "Thank you."
Bridget nods, "I will be right back with your meal."
After she leaves, Ben's mother comments, "Juice. Is that what you like to call it?"
Ben eyes down, "I mean, that would probably be a better word."
She nods, "Honey." and she waits for him to face her. "I rather think we should discuss your new diagnosis."
Ben's frown deepens, "Technically, I can't be diagnosed, unless it's by a psychologist."
"Ben," her eyes widen, "this is serious."
"It could be worse," he excuses. "At least I don't have an eating disorder."
"Ben," she sternly says.
"I'm just saying," Ben bypasses, "eating disorders can't be cured. This can, you know, so long as I'm given the proper treatment, which you already said I wouldn't."
"Would you stop it?" her voice raises.
He faces her, "Stop what?"
"Behaving like this," she asserts. "You know that if I had any say in the matter, you would get the best care possible."
"Do I?" Ben doubts.
Her expression softens, "If you sought treatment, your father would become paranoid about the people finding out. That wouldn't help anyone."
"The people are going to find out, anyway," Ben irritably responds, "if I keep blacking out and doing these things."
She sighs, "How many times?"
Ben shakes his head, placing a hand to it, "I don't even know." He hears the ringtone, "Hold on." and takes the phone from his pocket. "Chad?" Ben straightens, "What do you mean?"
"The video's gone viral," Chad informs. "Everyone's talking about it." Ben runs a hand over his face. "Tell me you didn't do it."
"Chad," Ben begins.
"My dad's completely pissed," he stresses. "He said he tried to reach you."
"Damn it," Ben mutters.
"If you really did this," Chad warns, "he's never going to let me see you again."
Ben wets his lips, "Can we meet tomorrow, so I can explain?" He stays silent. "Chad?"
"So, you did it, then?" he assumes.
"Chad," he reasons.
"Fuck you," he yells, and Ben can hear him start to cry. "You ruined everything."
"Chad," Ben pleads, but there's no response. "Chad?" he urges, before he checks his phone and notices the call had disconnected. "Shit."
"What happened?" his mother concerns.
Ben shakes his head, "Can you just shoot me?"
"That's not something to joke about," she seriously responds.
"I'm not," Ben mumbles. "My life is Hell."
She takes a moment, "What happened?"
Ben folds his hands and faces her, "There's a video of Jay and me from the hospital, when he accused me of assaulting Mal. The entire internet's talking about the defensive wounds on my face, and now King Charming's keeping Chad from seeing me until I offer an explanation." His mother eyes down. "What? No response?"
"You need to make a public appearance," she frowns at him, before she notices him start to counter it. "In French, so you don't misrepresent yourself."
"And say what?"
She takes a deep breath, "The truth; it was a mistake, that you never meant to hurt her."
"You want me to admit that I did it?" Ben surprises, and she stays quiet. "They would want an explanation. What do I say, that the doctor thinks I might have a form of dissociative personality disorder that exclusively affects hybrids?"
She frowns, "You can be as honest as you'd like. I'm not going to stop you."
His eyes widen, "There's no way Father would go for that."
"Staying silent isn't going to be any better," she softly speaks. "The only way this could have gone well is if it hadn't happened at all." His eyes lower, and he folds his hands tighter. "Honey," she places her hands over his, and he meets her warm brown eyes. "You didn't mean to do this. You're just ill. It's not your fault."
He gives her a look, "It's not my fault that I made Mal feel like she's nothing more than some slut who deserved to die?"
"You weren't even sexually assaulting her," his mother excuses. "You were just trying to drink from her."
"Like there's a difference," Ben cringes.
"I know you're confused about things right now," she starts.
"This isn't about being confused," Ben faces her. "Legally, a vampire or some other carnivore forcing themselves onto someone is treated the same as sexual assault—and with good reason. You can't just excuse my behavior because of illness."
"There are exceptions for illness," she counters.
"What if I did it to you?" he gestures to her.
"Well," her voice strengthens, "of course I'd feel violated." Ben nods, and she sternly finishes, "But I am your mother, and that means I love you unconditionally."
He eyes away, whispering, "This is so…"
She notices the tears intrude his eyes and reaches for him, "Ben."
"No," he hides his hands under the table.
"Honey," she moves to see his expression. "It's okay."
"No. It's not," he looks up and gulps. "I don't want you to love me unconditionally. I don't want to take advantage of that."
She takes a moment, "Like it or not, I am your mother, and that will not change." Ben holds his arms and looks away. "Ben. If you hurt me by accident, then you are not taking advantage of me."
He sadly eyes her, "But aren't I taking advantage just by having you here now?"
"Honey," she shuts her eyes, and Ben quickly wipes the tears away as the waitress comes into the area.
"Here you go," she sets the platters down before placing the items onto the table.
"Bridget," Ben manages, before he looks up at her. "I think I'd like to leave early. Is it possible to get a bag or something for the side dishes?"
She frowns, "Would you also like the bill?" He merely nods, and she partly smiles, "I'll be back in a minute."
As she leaves, Belle turns to Ben, "Honey."
"Would you stop it?" Ben tears up.
She examines his stress, "Stop what?"
"Stop," his voice raises. "Just—" He gestures to her before placing the hand to his head.
"Honey." She watches him shut his eyes hard, "Are you interpreting the things I'm saying as, uh… romantic?"
The tears slip from his eyes, "I need time." before he looks at her. "You were right before. I am really confused about a lot of things, and I can't sort through any of that if I'm getting new thoughts."
"Ben." She watches him pour the soda into the glass, "I don't want to stop offering you affection just because it affects you more than it should."
"Just 'til the end of summer," he compromises. "I just need some time."
"Honey," she sighs.
"And that means stop calling me honey," Ben interrupts. "Okay. I can't think things through if you're just going to act all…" He eyes off in annoyance, "Cute."
"Ben," she frowns. "You can't choose who you care about."
"But if I'm just confused," he defends.
"I don't think you are." She reasons, "I think you are a young man with very particular tastes and that you are very consistent in the types of people you like."
"I don't want to like you like that," Ben asserts. "I deserve some time to figure this entire thing out."
"Ben." She reaches for his hands again but then sighs and pulls them away, "I'm not upset with you. You've been very respectful to me, and you've controlled yourself decently."
"I want to get past this," Ben insists. "Whatever this is, I need it to stop. I can't keep sitting across from you at dinner, thinking of your hair and your smell and…" He wets his lips, "There are so many smart, innovative girls who are much more appropriate for me."
"And you've been dating them," she acknowledges. Ben eyes off in annoyance, and she reassures, "I can give you time if that's what you feel you need, but I don't want you to have to feel guilty for appreciating someone so greatly."
He gives her a look, "Really?"
"There are worse things."
Ben meets her eyes, "I do not love you. I am just malnourished and sensitive to smells, and I will find a way to separate food from…"
"Affection?" she offers.
"There's no way I'm this messed up," Ben disbelieves. "I'm already messed up plenty. This… I'm going to find a way through it."
His mother nods, "If you do, I will be happy for you." She hesitates, "But if you really do have an affection for me, I would not see you any differently."
Ben wets his lips, glancing down, "Honestly, that would be the problem."
"Ben," she begins, before he notices Bridget come back into the room.
She sets the bags and bill onto the table, "I hope you enjoyed…" She sees the drink and smiles at him, "The soda."
"Always," he smiles back, before he reaches for his pockets. He narrows his eyes and raises his hand, "Hold on." before she turns around and he places a fist to his mouth. "Um." His mouth opens, before he awkwardly smiles, "I left my checkbook at the castle. Do you accept cards by any chance?"
She walks back to the table and unclips a small device from her board, "Have you used one of these before?"
Ben takes it, "Yeah." before he slides his card in and a red x pops up on the screen. "I, uh… What does that mean?" He notices her frown, "What is it?"
"Your card has been declined," she uneasily states.
He faces his mother, "Father must be jealous."
"Ben," she exasperates.
He grins at Bridget, "Don't worry. I'm prepared." before he places his ankle on his leg, unties the shoe, and takes the cash from underneath its tongue.
"You keep money in your shoe?" she raises an eyebrow.
Ben counts it, "My father can be unpredictable." before he hands it to her.
She looks over it, mouth agape, before she hands him the difference, "I was meaning to ask—"
"Another time," Ben interrupts, before smiles at his mother. "We're finishing the steak and salad, and then I'm asking Father why my account can't be used."
"I'd very much like to know that too," she agrees.
"Well, have a good day," Bridget offers.
Ben nods, "You too." before he picks up the steak with his fork and brings it to his mouth. He bites a piece off, but then it reaches his back tooth, "Owe."
His mother gives him a look, "Ben?"
He shakes his head as he finishes the piece, "It's fine. I just chewed on the wrong side."
"What do you mean, the wrong side?" she laughs at the absurdity.
"I'm pretty sure I still have that cavity," Ben deeply frowns.
"But you were just at the dentist four months ago," her brows furrow.
"And six months before that," Ben irritably responds. "I hate dentists. They're stupid as fuck. It's like, 'Grind on this tin foil for us, won't you?'" Ben lifts a hand, "Even though they don't grind. And then they see my teeth tore through that one, and they're like 'Let's try that again. Move your teeth back-and-forth'. They don't. They literally just move up-and-down, and they're all 'Oh. Your teeth poked through it again. Well, we'll just use this one anyway." He straightens up, "And then they fill the center of my teeth, because that's the only place a cavity could be, and they tell me that the cavity I feel on the tip of my tooth is just a chipped tooth."
Belle gasps, before she shakes her head, "That's it. We're getting you in to see a dentist that specializes in carnivores."
"But Father," Ben reminds her.
"I don't care what your father thinks," she angrily interrupts. "You're only seventeen. We're not letting that cavity drill into your tooth, until at thirty-years-old it needs to be pulled."
"Thank you," he whispers.
She lets out a deep breath, "I hate to see you in pain. It's really nothing."
"You never choose me over Father," Ben mentions.
"I wouldn't say never," Belle picks up the fork, "but you are right. I don't do it nearly as often as I should." She mutters, "I'm sorry to say that when it comes to your father's interactions with other people, my instinct is to remain quiet and stay out of it." She shakes her head, "As your mother, I should be protecting you. You shouldn't have to face him alone."
"I wish I didn't have to face him at all," Ben evenly comments.
"You'll need to if you want to use your bank account," she reminds him.
Ben eyes from the salad to her, "After we make my will for Chad to become king, I think I'm going to fake my death and create a new life for myself."
She smiles, "You won't do that."
Ben frowns, "What makes you think that?"
She half laughs before placing a hand to his cheek, "You would miss me to much." before her expression falters and she slowly lets go, eyeing down. "I apologize. That was not something I should have done in that moment."
Ben feels a sinking sensation, "Mother?" but when she looks at him, he finds himself unable to speak.
"If you've changed your mind," she starts before letting out a breath. "You know that I'm still willing to just spend time with you, don't you?"
Ben's eyes shift, "I want you to promise me something." before he eyes down. "You don't need to promise. Just… if you're comfortable…" He faces her, "If I can't figure this out by the end of summer, I want to be able to ask you to a play without having to feel nervous about it." He wets his lips, "Do you, uh, agree?"
She nods, "I feel like that would be very reasonable." and he quietly nods in return.
- I'm definitely projecting my dental frustrations onto Ben, but since my teeth don't grind either, he was a good choice... Seriously, though. It is frustrating, because even my back teeth are mountain-like. Maybe it's just because I have an overbite. I don't know, but my teeth are more like shearing teeth than grinders and it really is like the only solution a dentist can come up with is to just fill them in (or try to). It's stupid. Literally, that entire thing Ben just said, I have all of those complaints. That's exactly what happened to me when I went. And after all of my cavities were fixed, I could still feel one on the point of one of my teeth. The dentist said it's not one, though, so isn't that great?... Anyway, make sure to read Side Problems and Islander Adventures too... Maybe it will distract you from everything I just said.