Disclaimer: Okay kiddies lets review, shall we? Not mine…repeat after me: not Katie's. Okay I think that sums it up.
A/N: My dear reviewers you are just fabulous. I adore each and every one of you. You guys are definitely confidence boosters. Thank you. Sorry this took awhile, school has been interfering. Also I have a job *blinks eyes in shock* I keep forgetting about that, you see I've never had one before. Sad I know since I'm 19. Okay once again getting off topic that seems to be my specialty. Big thanks and hug to Priya, you're such a doll. Thanks for the review it made my day. While I would like to subject my English Professor to all types of torture I'll refrain because she's the worthless one not me. Her opinion doesn't matter people like you do. So thanks for the marvelous review, you're a sweetheart. As are the rest of you. Remember suggest any songs that remind you of angsty Tristan, or if there's some song you just really love, share I'm always open to new music. Okay my ramble is done, go forth and read!
Chapter Four: One Step Closer
"I find the answers aren't so clear/ Wish I could find a way to disappear/All these thoughts they make no sense/I find bliss in ignorance/Nothing seems to go away/ Over and over again/Just like before…/Everything you say to me/Takes me one step closer to the edge/And I'm about to break/Cause I'm one step closer to the edge/ And I'm about to break." ~Linkin Park
"Come in." a gruff voice called out and Tristan pushed the door opened and took at seat in his usual chair across the desk from his father. The room was dim due to the fact that only his father's desk lamp was lit. Alexander DuGrey sat back in his chair his right hand on his drink. He surveyed the boy for a moment before he began to speak, he could tell that Tristan was tense and uncomfortable but it did not bother Alexander. Tristan was no longer his problem.
"Yes?" Tristan prompted getting impatient with the prolonged silence.
Alexander took a sip of his Manhattan and then began to speak. "Tristan, because of your grandfather's passing there are some things that need to be brought up about your inheritance. You're almost eighteen and therefore almost a man, I hoped that military school would give you some maturity but…" he trailed off the regaining his train of thought proceeded. "But that's of no consequence now. There are some facts of your birth that you do not know of, Francis would not permit it to be spoken of…but he's no longer an issue."
He coughed as the whiskey burned his throat, but he finished off the glass and decided to just get this ordeal over with. "The matter is that you are not in fact a DuGrey—because you're not my son. Francis made it so that if I ever told you I wouldn't get his shares in the company. But now it doesn't matter cause he left them to you anyway." He continued his voice becoming louder as the anger and the alcohol took effect.
Tristan was leaning back in his chair, once again shocked. He couldn't wrap his head around what his father…no not his father—was saying.
Alexander leaned forward his voice now elevated considerably. "Yeah that's right. You're bitch of a mother got pregnant by another man during our engagement and her son of a bitch of a father made sure that I'd marry her and claim you by bribing me with money and shares in the corporation. And like a fool went along with it. Because I wanted the money and one day when the old man died it would all be mine. But no, here's his will." He yelled brandishing the papers on his desk. "And he left it all to you, you little bastard. And you are a bastard does your fancy education pay off? Do you know what it means?"
Tristan feeling the anger flowing through him pushed back his chair violently as he got up incidentally knocking over the chair. "Shut up!" he yelled as he yanked open the door. "I'm glad I'm not your son, you cold hearted son of a bitch!"
Janette hearing the argument and surmising what Alexander must of told her son, she ran into the study. "No! You promised you wouldn't—" she yelled as she grabbed Alexander's arm.
Without a second thought Alexander backhanded his wife across the mouth with such force it knocked her to the ground. And kicked her in the back when she grabbed at his legs.
"Bitch." He spat at her.
Tristan stalked over prepared to hit this man, who was not his father, but as he drew back to punch him Alexander pushed him off balance causing Tristan to fall over his own mother.
He leaned down to help his mother up. There was blood at the corner of her mouth and a bruise was already forming. Alexander was laughing drunkenly in the background.
"I'm going to kill that asshole." Tristan vowed to his mother viciously.
Janette's eyes went wide and she whispered. "No. Don't interfere. Please don't fight with your father."
A thousand similar childhood scenes flashed before Tristan's eyes as he screamed at her. "He's not my father!"
His mother gave him a defeated look and replied. "No…he's not your biological father but that doesn't change anything."
"Yes it does." Alexander said interrupting the two. "As of today Tristan is no longer my heir. He's disinherited. You're father screwed me, Janette and now I'm doing the same thing to your bastard kid."
Tristan surged up again in ready to fight but he felt his mother's hand tugging on his pant leg. "Please don't." she pleaded.
"I don't fucking believe this!" he cried out. And it just became too much for him. He needed to get out of there. He could feel the blood pounding in his veins crying out for some kind of release, the need for violence.
He raced up the stairs to his room and began picking things up and just throwing them. Tossing anything he could get his hands on, something about the shattering of glass made it better, if only for a second. Frenzied he went into the bathroom tearing it apart until he found the prescription painkillers he had used for a knee injury a while back. Grabbing the bottle of vodka he had stolen from his parent's liquor cabinet, he threw a couple of the pills in his mouth and washed them down with the alcohol.
The vodka burned his throat causing him to cough but he forced himself to take another drink. Within minutes the room was rapidly spinning out of control, just like his life. He stumbled out of his bedroom and into the hall. The first things he saw was the many family portraits that had been taken over the years, all lies. The sounds of breaking glass once again gave him some brief comfort as the picture frames hit the floor. He didn't even notice the shard that had sliced his hand causing him to bleed. The sound of broken glass crunching under his feet echoed in the empty hallway as he stumbled out.
He got into his car not really knew what he was doing there. Everything was still spinning, his hands shaking and his vision blurring. The anger once again ignited within him and he viciously jammed the key into the ignition starting the engine. He of course wasn't thinking rationally or really thinking at all, or else he never would have gotten behind the wheel and drove off into the night. But what he did not realize was that this drive was going to change everything. He had been broken into a million tiny pieces and they were know flying down the highway towards rock bottom...and his destiny.
Okay I'm not exactly back to the crazy dancing mood but I'm not throwing a woe-is-me party anymore. So we'll compromise with a slightly normal me. Of course if I get enough reviews…there will probably be crazy dancing accompanied with singing most likely in a public place, lol. So review away my dears, cause you know I love them.
