"You did this."
"Plasmius, it was an accident. Still can't believe he's your kid though."
"Keep your voice down, he knows nothing of my… condition."
Hesitance. Then, a voice tinged in confusion and doubt. "You live in the same house, and Dash knows nothing?"
A loud snort came from somewhere. "The irony in the fact you doubt that is truly stunning, dear boy. Now why don't you leave? I think you've done enough harm to my son."
Anger from the younger voice. "He's my old high school bully… this brat of yours has pushed me around since elementary school. Trust me, unless I shoot him with ectoplasm, he's harmed me far more."
There was silence. And then, "Little Badger."
"Plasmius, swear to God, call me that again and-"
"Thank you. For the map. I owe you a debt."
A very long silence until there was the sense of air whooshing. "Don't mention it. Leave Amity alone, and we'll consider us even. Deal?"
The words played over in my mind as I sat up in bed. It had been two days since the disaster in the library, and I was more confused than ever. Had it been a strange, colorless dream? It had seemed so real, but why would the ghosts in the house have cared about me, or my mother? I groaned, putting my head in my hands, as a shadow was cast over me.
"Is the Young Masters feeling ill again? Should I call the doctor?"
Looking up, I sighed. "No thanks, Finley. Has Dad left for the dinner yet?"
"I'm departing now, Dash. Come, let's get going."
I nodded as his blue eyes met mine. Vlad has approached me yesterday about the dinner he had been rattling on about for a few weeks now. I had wanted to go since the first time I awoke after leaving on horseback, but with mom so badly off I kept changing my mind. Vlad had used his influence to push the dinner back, but he explained that the other invited members were getting aggravated, and the dinner would be held tonight. He had called an impromptu self-tutoring lesson to teach me some basic etiquette, and a seamstress came in to tailor me an outfit.
I stared at myself in the mirror, barely recognizing myself. My hair -which was normally slicked back- has been parted in the middle, slicked down at the sides, and tied back into a ponytail. It mimicked my father's style, and I couldn't help but grin. I actually liked looking like Dad. His blue eyes twinkled and he laughed as he straightened my tie, and then turned to the door.
"Come, son. The public awaits."
A short time later, I stood in awe in what Dad called a large banquet hall, in somebody's house. It honestly reminded me of the Von Trapp family's ballroom, and I tried to not shrink away as I saw a lot of very snooty looking people. One of them caught sight of us as my father handed his coat to the butler, and he headed towards us, sticking his hand out to Dad.
"Masters! Finally, the elusive millionaire made it! And who is this handsome young man accompanying you? We will have to put another seat at the table!"
Dad glanced at me, and I could feel the pride radiating off of him. "This is Dash, my son." The man who had greeted my father paused for a second, shock clear on his face, but it seemed he recovered well.
"I see things have turned in your favor, Masters. Congratulations on the adoption going through."
At those words, my father went rigid beside me. The man didn't notice, however, as he bent to my level and smiled. "I am Jacob Marcey, owner of the Marcey Depot stores."
I nodded mutely, offering my hand but not speaking. A small crowd had gathered, however, to see who Vlad had brought with him, and I watched my father brush past most of them, grabbing a glass of what I assumed was champagne, and he stood tall, demanding attention from all. Lifting the glass, he spoke.
"Hello everybody. I must apologize for my absences at these dinners. I have had family matters to attend to. I see most of you have seen the young lad who is with me tonight. I am pleased to announce that it has recently come to my attention that I have children from a previous relationship. My son, Dash, and his sister Emilie. They and their mother have been adjusting to life at my home for some time now. Tonight I am here to declare him as my heir, and I could not be more proud. To Dash!"
The shock which had weaved itself around the room dissipated as he called for the toast, and as one they lifted their glasses, smiling at me encouragingly. As my father stood once more by my side, Marcey looked unsure as he held his hand to my father.
"I apologize for misunderstanding, Masters. I wish you both well, and must go attend other matters, but I will see you at dinner."
My father nodded crisply, and then turned to me his gaze softening. "I don't want you by my side the entire night, Dash. Over there, there are many young ones you can associate with. Children of my colleagues. They might have sharp claws, but you have sharper ones… in the form of a checkbook, anyway." He smiled and I nodded. I had been shocked for him to claim Emilie as his own, and for that I would do whatever he asked.
Gathering my courage, I squared my shoulders and walked towards them, and the first boy I met nodded to me. Frankly, he was a blonde version of Spencer Ried from Criminal Minds
"So. Masters has a son? I don't see the resemblance, no offense. You look like a brick wall, dude."
I snorted. "Star quarterback. Amity Park Eagles. I guess you heard. I'm Dash."
He held out his hand, and I tried to not be rude. Rich kids were weird. Handshakes, really?
"Waylon Marcey. The girl over there is my sister, Willa. We're twins." He paused and then sized me up and spoke again. "So, you play football? Have you enrolled in Waukesha Private? I hear they have a rather excellent track team. We don't really do football, but the track team do obstacle races. Personally, I find chess and robotics thrilling."
Ugh, a geek. Well, I guess most of these snobs would be like that. Then, another boy approached our hearing range and gestured to me.
"Well of course he's not really a Masters. His mom probably had a fling or something with some other guy and is trying to cash in. Pathetic, really."
My blood boiled. How dare he talk about Mom like that? When she'd done this all for me. I swung around to him, and he shrank a bit. I towered over him.
"Take it back. My mother isn't some gold digger. You don't know anything about us."
He laughed, and stepped forward. "You look nothing like Masters. Even if you were his miniature, don't act like there isn't something in it for you and your mom and your sister. You're either in denial of it or just too stupid to see. Your mother has a damn angle, like everybody else."
The next thing I knew he was on the floor with a bloodied jaw. "My mother is dying. She only told us about Vlad being my father and bringing us here because she wanted somebody to take care of us and watch us after she died. Turns out it's the best decision she ever made- they're truly in love again and things are right for once. I only wish that it had been like this my entire life."
Someone was trying to drag me back, and I jerked away, only to be dragged back again. This time, I looked to see my father with his hand on my shoulder, and a good deal of the parents standing around us, and my cheeks heated. Crap. I had just hit the son of someone very wealthy, and I knew without being told it was unlikely that I would be allowed to go to another dinner. Or even be let outside again.
One man knelt down to the boy I had clobbered, and rage colored his face as he looked up at us.
"Masters! You'll pay for this! There's blood all over his suit. Your brat is ill-mannered, better to be locked in a cage! Or perhaps an insane asylum."
My father's eyes seemed to flash red for a brief second, and he spoke cooly, although I could detect him barely restraining his temper. "Quite the contrary. I believe your boy was the ill-mannered one, James. Taunting my son and deciding his mother was a tramp, when in fact she and I were live-in friends as young adults." As soon as the sentence was spoken, the reporters who had been covering this dinner gasped and flashes went off around us. My father continued, either not noticing the press or not caring. "Janet and I were in love, but I encouraged her to look elsewhere. She did, and was already expecting Dash when she married someone she did not love. She did so to provide for our son, and remained in that relationship later when Emilie came along after she and I met by happenstance. I knew nothing of either of them until recently, when his mother discovered she was gravely ill. The boy and his sister are mine, and for your son to suggest anything else, is incredibly poor taste. As of now, my generous donation for your fundraiser will be pulled by tomorrow."
The man stood, hands out in front of him. His anger had immediately melted off his face when Vlad mentioned the word 'donation', and he lowered his head. "Now, Masters, let's not be hasty. Boys will be boys, am I right? Come now, you know what this cause means for me."
"Indeed I do. Perhaps you will see how much my son means to me, now that you are nearly without funding. Teach your children to mind their tongues on things they know nothing about, and mayhaps this won't be a recurrence. Come, Dash. We have business elsewhere."
My father turned on his heel and I followed him, feeling more than a little sorry for how my temper had gotten the best of me. As we entered the limo, Vlad tapped the glass. "Home."
I sat with my head in my hands, and Vlad sighed after a few moments. "Dash."
I ignored him. This disaster was totally my fault. Then, again, "Dashiel. Look at me, son."
Grumbling, I turned to him, and he gripped my chin. "This was not your fault. I did not think they would be so cruel right away. I was prepared to brace you for this prior to school next year, but… well, at any rate, it's not you I blame. The loose tongue of that boy and his father's lack of parental skills are who I find fault with. I had not planned to release a statement about your identity this soon, either. I was only going to say you were my ward, but I got so caught up in finally having children…" Vlad stopped, gripping the arm rest and continued. "Sometimes I forget that being rich means acting certain ways, ways even I myself forget. Money talks, however, and I can generally pay my way out of most situations. In the morning I will have to make an official statement declaring you my protégé and heir. For now, let's go home."
I was quiet, head spinning. I… wasn't in trouble?
A laugh to my left and I realized I had spoken that aloud. "No. Just don't hit anyone again."
A/N::
Oohhh, Dash actually overheard his dad and Danny! O.o
So mainly I have a bit of father/son bonding here. I don't know how to write rich snobs, sorry ya'll. I'm trying lol. Next chap should be up soon!
