Well, today I finally got the sequel to a very well written book called Finding Lubchenko by Michael Simmons. I finished it a bit ago, and well, felt like writing an alternate scene for the Midnight Ball of Saint Sebastian where Evan is trying to talk his dad into leaving with him. This oneshot is the product of my sadistic mind…and is not well written, mainly due to the fact that I have not written much in a long time, nor am I talented at all. So please, bear with me…
Disclaimer: The Rise of Lubchenko and all it's characters belong to Michael Simmons, as well as the quote from page 199. I claim nothing as my own, save this AU scene.
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Midnight Affairs
By: Millenia Star
So there I was, standing in the Winter Place, face to face with my dad. My very pissed off dad to be exact. True, he probably had a great reason to be mad at me, as I did, after all, just randomly show up in Brussels when I was supposed to be thousands of miles away in Seattle. I had a real reason to be there though. Mr. Richmond hired people to terminate my dad and I was the only one who could stop them now.
"Now, Dad. We have to leave now. Or I'm going to show you how important your love is to me. And you're not going to like it."
After I said that, he grew even more upset, if possible. I struggled to repress the wince that was trying to force itself out. It was ironic, how true that statement could be. I would show him, fight tooth and nail, but I didn't want it to be here. Not now, with his life in danger.
"I don't have time for this idiocy, Evan. You have some nerve to come all the way out here and pull this crap," he growled out, and again I noticed how he cursed, "I already told you I am involved in important matters here."
I pushed my case harder, trying to resist the urge to glance at the golden clock. Hey, he really was stubborn, but I knew when I could win a battle. Well, at least I think I do, and I'm hardly ever wrong - don't listen if Ruben or Erika tell you otherwise.
"More important than our relationship?" I interjected.
I suppose I should have learned by now, even after seeing where my mouth has gotten me, when I've pushed things too far. But, of course, with my quick thinking also comes a quick mouth.
"Evan…you're going back to my hotel room, and I mean now," he signaled the guards as he said this, and I felt my handsome body being restrained from movement, "We'll talk there, so stop the drama queen act and wait for me."
Great. If I actually listened to him for once, I'd never get to talk to him ever again. Letting out a small cry of exasperation, I prepared to make a scene, when my eye caught the clock.
9:54
Dad was walking away from me, at the same time I was being pulled away. Not without struggling, mind you, and making a great effort to draw attention to myself. Of course, it was a rather vain attempt to escape, as the guards had pretty strong grips. Did I already mention that?
9:57
Okay, by now, I was starting to loose the calm mask I had put on. Again Dad's figure was lost to the crowd, and silently cursed, trying to think a way out of this. I was known for my stunning heroic acts, after all.
"Please stop struggling Mr. Macalister," one guard muttered, and with a startling realization, I did just that.
I quickly fell limp, and I used their surprise to my advantage. Ruben wasn't the only genius around here (my school and Dad just seemed to think otherwise). There was no time to think it through, and I chomped down hard on one of the guy's arms.
Even though there was a sleeve in the way, I'm sure it still hurt, and well, I hoped the unlucky guy wasn't in too much pain as I kicked him in the groin too, for good measure. They were just doing their jobs, after all.
9:59
There was no more time. Even if I decided to tell him everything, it was too late. I saw my father standing at the table, shaking hands with men who looked important. And rich too, from their clothes. He was smiling slightly, but I could tell he wasn't completely thrilled, most likely due to my surprise appearance. Then again, he never did seem to like these dinner parties.
I was really running, and barely realized I was pushing people out of my way. My eyes were focused on my dad, as he began to sit down in the chair. My ears were only listening to the ticking of some imaginary clock, or maybe I really was hearing the giant one from before. Point was, I really wasn't listening for people's indignant cries as I pushed past them and made it to the head table like a rabid dog. The guards were probably after me again by now as well.
It's strange now that I think about it. Time really does seem to slow down when something truly traumatic is happening. I think Ruben once told me about a scientific article he read, where these studies some random scientists did proved that the brain releases some chemical or something, that makes people perceive such moments slower than they actually occur. Weird. I never really thought much about it, let alone expect to experience it firsthand.
It was ten, and I was there, at the head table, near my father, so very near. I could hear the loud cries of the clock, too perfect of an opportunity to fire a gun (even without a silencer, it'd still be masked pretty well). Images were passing in short bursts.
Dad turned his head to look at me and his face slowly fell into yet another of his ever famous frowns. But I wouldn't give him time to finish it, as I kept running towards him, praying that the would-be assassin didn't pick this bell chime to fire, or fire at all, really. Purely wishful thinking.
I lunged at Dad on the fourth ring, not really thinking or caring about what happened to me. Or the chair he was sitting in. Knowing him, he'd probably berate me for breaking such an antique. Oh well, I was in trouble no matter what I ended up doing at this point.
Whatever he was expecting me to do, I'm sure that knocking him over wasn't it. Heh. I wonder if he was surprised…
I had never been shot before, at least by a real gun. True, I had come close to it twice, one only hours earlier that very night (no thanks to Mr. Richmond there). The rush I had felt from my panicked and rather tactless jump had dulled whatever pain I would have normally felt. Instead, it was more like something hard and tiny slamming into my back.
I opened my eyes slowly to see something unbelievable. Dad's face was…shocked? I had just been kidding about the surprised crack. To actually see that expression on his face…it was as unnerving as the time I had seen him sobbing uncontrollably about my mother's death. He seemed to quickly recover from that state and his lips started moving wildly.
The sound was distant and incomprehensible to my ears, yet his hands found their way to my back, pushing hard with his huge hands. My breath felt pained and I began to cough violently. Saying it hurt would have been an understatement, and my eyes just didn't have the strength to stay open anymore.
The last thing I saw as my vision faded was my father's face, determined and pained all at the same time. I couldn't help the twitch of a smile that found its way to my lips. I wondered if he still thought I was a hopeless case…? All that red I saw convinced me he wasn't thinking about that right that second. I immediately felt guilt about Erika and Ruben who I had left outside. If needed, they could tell my dad everything…about me and my stupid scheme to get money, about Mr. Richmond, and about Mother….
I struggled, to stay awake, to grasp to my father's voice…but I knew it was in vain. One last thought plagued my mind.
I told you I would show you how important you are to me…
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