A Father-Son…Talk
John walked into the penthouse. He threw his briefcase on the chair, sat on the couch and covered his eyes. He heard footsteps, running down the staircase.
John: (muttering) Could you not run down the stairs, please?
Belle: I'm sorry, Dad. I'm meeting Mimi at Dot.com and I'm running late.
John: (standing up) No, I'm sorry, Izzy. I just have a headache. I shouldn't have taken it out on you.
Be: It's okay. Having a tough time at work?
J: Yeah, you can say that.
Be: Well, I hope that things get better.
J: It will. Is your brother home?
Be: Yeah. He's the reason why I am late. I gotta go. Love you, Dad.
J: Love you too.
Belle kissed John and left the penthouse. John sat down on the couch, rubbed his eyes and cracked his knuckles. Brady ran down the stairs.
Brady: Hey, Dad. I'll see you later.
J: (standing) Brady, we need to talk.
Br: (anxious) Dad, I don't have time. I'm running late.
J: You'll make the time. Have a seat.
Brady looked at John as he placed John's briefcase on the coffee table and sat in the chair. John sat on the ottoman.
Br: So… what's up?
J: (sighing) The better question is 'what's down?', mainly your productivity at Basic Black.
Br: (sighing) My work day ended at 5.
J: I'm not talking to you as your boss, but as your father.
Br: Typically, fathers aren't privy to their children's work habits, so let's cut the bull.
J: Okay, you want to be that way. Alright. Your work has been sub par for the last few months. Initially, I wrote it off as you adjusting to your new position, but it has gotten progressively worse and it hasn't passed under Kate's notice either. You are one of the most detail-oriented people I know, Brady. Something is occupying your mind. So Brady, what is going on?
Br: There isn't anything going on, Dad. I just need to prioritize my work in a better way.
J: When will you do this?
Br: (standing up) Soon. Now I have to go.
Brady walked toward the door.
J: (under his breath) Maybe if you wouldn't keep such late hours, we wouldn't have had this discussion.
Br: (turning around) Excuse me?
J: I've noticed that you're been staying out past midnight, on weeknights.
Br: So?
J: So maybe if you were more rested, your work would improve.
Br: (sarcastically) So what are you saying, you're putting me on a curfew?
J: (coolly) Maybe I should.
Br: (angrily) What the hell… I am 20 years old. I can stay out if I want.
J: You are also living in my home and your late hours will not disrupt this family.
Br: Technically, this is Marlena's house…
J: Don't get smart with me.
Br: Then don't get stupid with me, Dad. I know what this is really about. You're still on this college kick. You are using my mistakes to canoodle me back into college. How many times do I have to say that I'm not interested in going back?
J: (concerned) What is going on with you? For months, this household has been relatively peaceful. No arguments or confrontations. Now you're being defensive. Does this 180 have anything to do with Chloe?
Br: What do you mean by that?
J: Well, she hasn't been around lately. Has she gone back to Phillip?
Brady remained silent.
She must have. Listen Brady, you are better off without her. What is the point of hanging around with a girl with whom you have no future? You are a young man, Brady. There are plenty of women out there, without baggage. There's plenty of fun to be had, without strings or obligations.
Br: (muttering) I am not the least bit surprised by that little pearl of wisdom.
J: And what is that supposed to mean?
Br: Never mind. Look, I am really late. Could we talk later?
J: I see that another woman is leading you by the… nose.
Br: (angrily) You have no clue what you are talking about and what's more, you're not fooling me with this 'concern' for my work. If you want to play 'Father Knows Best', go visit J.T. or Isaac, or whoever the hell else you've fathered!
J: (snarling) That is it!
Br: No, it isn't 'it', not by a long shot. Do not interfere in my life or give me advice about how to handle my personal life because you sure as hell don't have a firm handle on yours!
Brady walked toward the door.
J: (turning around) I am not finished with you, kid!
Br: Well, I'm finished with you. I'm out!
Brady slammed the door.