CHAPTER 18 – L'HERBE N'EST PAS TOUJOURS PLUS VERTE CHEZ LE VOISIN
Félix was happy. Everything seemed to be running to plan. Even better, he was enjoying being Adrien Agreste. He was popular in the class and he felt genuinely welcome. Walking in the courtyard made him feel like a god. He would have been blind not to notice the girls looking at him, giggling and blushing when he glanced their way. A simple wave and a winning smile was enough to cause one pretty girl to faint. Then Ms Bustier handed back some tests from the day before which Adrien had aced – it was nice getting the academic recognition he so richly deserved – and with so little work.
Félix was also enjoying his little scheme. He could still taste Chloé's lipstick on his lips and the smell of Marinette still lingered in his nostrils. Having to seduce two pretty girls was in many ways its own reward. He marveled at how naïve Adrien could be, if he had played his cards right he could have had his way with both Chloé and Marinette, yet Mr Perfect hadn't taken advantage of the situation.
Félix leaned back in his chair, his fingers contentedly locked together resting on his stomach. Yes, life was good. Being Adrien was everything Félix had ever imagined it to be.
-000-
All too soon school was over. Félix had been hoping to soak up the feeling of acceptance that came with being Adrien for a little longer but the Gorilla was waiting for him. Before he could say "goodbye" properly he was being whisked away to his interview with Nadia Chemack.
Within ten minutes he was seated in the makeup room, a bevy of makeup artists powdering, poking, plucking and doing goodness knew what. "Ouch" he yelled as an over-enthusiastic stylist pulled a bit too hard on the comb she was using. Félix felt like a prize pet at a dog show.
After an hour or so of the smothering attention in the makeup room it was almost a relief to be sitting opposite Nadia Chemack under the blaze of the studio lights.
Nadia's questions started off fairly easily, discussing his relationship with his friends at school, whether it felt awkward interacting with them given his fame and asking if he felt like he was treated any differently because of who he was. Félix was just starting to relax when Nadia struck.
"What about your relationship with your father?" she asked.
"What of it?"
"A source in the Agreste household tells us that you hardly ever see him."
"That's not true," said Félix. "I had dinner with him three nights ago."
"Three nights ago?" asked Nadia, raising an eyebrow.
Felix realized he had given the wrong answer. What would Adrien say?
"My father is a very busy man, he can't be expected to spend all of his time with me and I understand that. I treasure our time together and I know he sacrifices everything to spend time with me."
Félix smiled. "RIGHT answer!" he thought. Then he made another mistake. "Why, we've even got a scheduled meeting this evening in fact."
"He SCHEDULES meetings with you, his own son?" asked Nadia, her voice filled with disbelief.
"Why, ugh, yes … ugh".
Félix suddenly felt like a small fawn being stalked by a tiger.
"Well viewers, that doesn't sound healthy to me, but let's see what our expert has to say about the whole thing. Please welcome prominent psychiatrist Dr La Tête to the studio, who has been listening in on our interview."
The audience clapped and Dr La Tête walked onto the stage. Félix had a sinking feeling in his stomach, and the feeling got even worse as the doctor analysed his relationship with his father, concluding that it was borderline abusive. The worst part was that the more he listened the more he agreed with what the doctor said. But he was Adrien now, and his plan depended on keeping that illusion going. As such, he had to defend the very man that he despised. And the more he tried to do so, the more pathetic he and his father looked.
The rest of the interview was a disaster and it was a relief to get whisked out of the studio to his next engagement.
-000-
The Agreste Foundation's outreach project for the year was a fashion school in Malawi. The event was the official launch of the school and was designed to place the Agreste Foundation in the best possible light. "Adrien" would officially be representing the Agreste Family and would field questions from the press.
He was still feeling drained from the Chemack interview when he once again found himself being powdered and pampered like a poodle before being rushed in front of a podium. He had never used a teleprompter before but after stumbling over the first sentence or two he soon got the hang of it. He could see some of the reporters smiling as he told them about how the school would benefit the local community. His confidence began to rise as once again he enjoyed being Adrien Agreste, the darling of the world. He speech ended and it was time for questions.
The questions were also all benign and Félix was actually beginning to enjoy himself when a shabbily dressed reporter got to his feet.
"Is this project an attempt by Agreste Foundation to compensate for the sweatshops that Agreste Fashion allegedly been operating out of Malawi for the past decade?" he asked.
Ugh … sweatshops?" asked Félix. He could feel the hair on the back of his neck rising. He smelt danger.
"Yes, the ones reported on in the UNSESCO report last month? Does the Agreste Foundation really believe that they can make up for what is effectively slave labour by benefitting a few privileged Malawians at a fashion school?" Once again Félix felt like the helpless victim watching a predator get ever closer.
"Ughh … ughh …" Félix looked around. He didn't know anything about any sweatshops. The cold hand of panic gripped his innards as he realized that the whole mood of the room was changing. The smiling, friendly reporters' faces had changed. They smelt a story and like a pack of ravenous dogs they suddenly turned on him.
"You're wearing Agreste clothing right now Adrien," said one. "How do you sleep at night, knowing that you are wearing the sweat and blood of innocents?" asked another.
"Adrien Agreste has long been the face of Agreste Fashion's youth line. Are you aligning yourself fully with your father's brand and his actions by continuing to model for his line?" asked yet another.
"Ugh … ugh …"
Félix broke into a cold sweat. He suddenly felt himself pushed out the way by an aide. "That's all we have time for folks, we'll have an official statement on the last few questions in a day or two."
The damage had already been done though. Félix felt terrible.
-000-
"At least there would be no awkward questions at his physical," he thought as he walked into the doctor's room. He didn't know why Adrien didn't like the physical, but it could hardly be any worse than the interview and the charity function.
Félix was surprised to see Nathalie in the room, her stylus and notebook ready. What was she doing here?
The doctor welcomed him and then measured his blood pressure and heart rate, peered into his eyes and ears, pausing to call out measurements to Nathalie who faithfully recorded them. He took a brief jog on a travelator and the measurements were repeated.
"Right, you know the drill Adrien, down to your underwear please," said the doctor.
"With Nathalie here?" he whispered.
The doctor rolled his eyes. "Of course, she's always here."
Félix did not feel very comfortable taking of most of his clothes in front of his father's assistant. He began to understand why Adien didn't like the physical. Still, if Adrien could do it, so could he. He stripped off his shirt and pants and stood waiting for the doctor. He could feel Nathalie's gaze on him.
The doctor took out a small tape measure and began to measure him. Would Adrien flex his biceps please? The measuring tape was wrapped around the bulging muscle and a measurement was relayed to Nathalie, who noted it down. Now his triceps? The process repeated itself. Could he flex his glutes please? Félix felt like a prize bull being measured before a cattle auction.
Next came the set of calipers, squeezing his skin as his body fat was measured. His legs. His arms. His back. His stomach. His chest. Félix smirked, looking down at the rippling muscles on his body. This would be a cinch.
"No, no, no" said the doctor. "You've picked up fat" as he called out the last measurements to Nathalie. "Your father is going to be furious." Félix had to bite his tongue. Félix looked down at his body again. Every muscle in his body was clearly visible. How could Gabriel possibly not be happy with his condition?
The doctor looked through Adrien's file. "Has your stool improved since your last visit?" asked the doctor.
"My stool?"
The doctor rolled his eyes again. "You had slight constipation issues last month. Never mind, I'll check myself," he said, pulling on a latex glove and dipping his fingers in some jelly. "Please take off your underwear and bend over."
Félix glowed bright red. "But Nathalie is here!" he said.
"Adrien, do I need to talk about this again?" reprimanded Nathalie. "Your father has made it quite clear that I am to give him a full report as to your physical condition. And I've seen it all before anyway. This bashfulness is just wasting time."
Félix's shoulders slumped. "I'll get you for this Gabriel" he thought to himself as he dropped his underwear and bent over. He felt the doctor's thick fingers probing at him. "Try to relax son," said the doctor.
Félix thought his humiliation was over and was pulling up his underwear when the doctor stopped him. "May as well do the hernia test at the same time. Cough please." The doctor's hand was very cold.
Félix coughed. Nathalie's stylus never stopped moving, recording every humiliating detail. Félix could feel her eyes scouring his naked body.
For the rest of the examination the doctor asked "Adrien" intimate questions about the changes that had been happening to his body since his last visit and how he was dealing with them. The embarrassment of having Nathalie listen in as he told the doctor about the vivid dreams he had been having about the girls in his class and the unexplained action below his belt at the most inopportune of times should have been just as bad as having her watch the examination of his most intimate parts. However his mind was divorced from the process and was instead filled with silent rage. Félix focused on the rage, letting it consume him.
"Gabriel Agreste, I will destroy you," he thought, as Nathalie faithfully recorded the most personal discussion he had ever had with anyone.
-000-
Félix put on a recording of one of Chopin's piano concertos during his scheduled piano practice and mentally prepared himself for his meeting with Gabriel. He could still feel where the doctor's fingers had probed deep inside him and he blushed as he thought of Nathalie witnessing him at his most vulnerable. He had no doubt as to exactly why Adrien hated his physical examinations.
It was going to be difficult, but he had to keep up the pretense of being Adrien when he saw Gabriel. He needed to calm his rage. Adrien liked his father. He forgave his shortcomings. He would do anything to please his father. Félix would have to do the same. He breathed deeply. A semblance of calm descended on him.
-000-
Without anyone to talk to, dinner was an uninteresting affair. Then Nathalie fetched him and took him to his father's study. She shut the door behind them and handed Gabriel her tablet. "The results of his physical sir."
Gabriel scrolled through the report. "I see your percentage of body fat has increased.
"Yes father."
"And I am told that your maths mark has dipped to an "A"?"
"Yes father."
Gabriel pointed a remote at the television. Scenes from that afternoon's interview and the charity function flashed across the screen.
"What a fiasco. Did you not learn anything from your public relations classes?"
"I'm sorry father."
"Adrien, you know how important the Agreste name is to me?"
"Yes father."
"Then how do you explain yourself?"
"I'm sorry father."
"You are the face of the brand. You are the face of ME. Your actions bring shame on this family."
"I'm sorry father."
"You've been snacking again, haven't you? I spend a fortune making sure your food is perfectly balanced and weighed and you go and scoff your face at school. More and more I doubt the wisdom of agreeing to send you to a public school when you could have had the benefit of the very finest tutors in all of France right here."
Félix bit his tongue.
"Don't you understand son, the world is a cruel, hard place. Only the best succeed. And you cannot let it slip for even a second. THEY are waiting. THEY are waiting for that one little slip and they will not hesitate to seize you and drag you down when it happens.
There is no place for anything but perfection my son. An "A" is not good enough, only A+ will do. One little blemish on a model's body and the paparazzi will roast you alive."
Gabriel suddenly pulled Félix into his embrace. "I know I am hard on you son, but I do it because I love you. Because I need to make you strong enough to take anything that life throws at you."
"Yes father."
"Therefore know that what I do now will hurt me more than it hurts you. What I do now is done out of love."
Gabriel opened his cupboard and took out a thin, flexible cane. He bent it slightly in his hands.
"You are a young man now, yet you persist in acting like a child. So I'll treat you like a child. Hands on the desk and bend over."
Félix could not believe what he was hearing. He had read about people getting caned before, but had never experienced it himself. He placed his hands on the desk, looking down. Suddenly he felt the cool night air on the cheeks of his buttocks as his father pulled his pants down.
The swish of the cane whistling through the air was the only warning before the sharp sting of the can pressed into his flesh. He involuntarily jerked up.
"Take it like a man!" his father said, pressing his hand onto Félix's back, pushing him back down.
The second stroke was worse than the first because Félix knew what to expect. His buttocks clenched as he heard the whistle of the downward stroke.
Gabriel was an expert with the cane. No stroke landed in the same place, and he noted with satisfaction the perfectly parallel red welts that were raised on his son's flesh.
After the fourth stroke Félix could not help himself. A tear rolled down his face. He managed not to cry out though.
Twice more the cane whistled before Gabriel took Félix in his arms.
"Don't ever force me to do that again Adrien," he whispered as he hugged him tightly. Félix could not believe it when he felt the wetness of Gabriel's own tears on his shoulder.
-000-
Nathalie allowed him a brief visit to his cousin after the appointment with his father. Adrien had woken up earlier that afternoon but had quickly fallen asleep again. Félix stood alone at the side of Adrien's bed, looking at the serene face of his cousin.
"How do you put up with him?" he asked his sleeping cousin. "And how did you turn out so NICE after everything he does to you?"
Félix's mind ran back over the events of the afternoon, the embarrassment of having his life picked apart by a psychiatrist, the terror of the media conference, the humiliation of the physical examination and the sting of the cane on his naked flesh.
What kind of a father exposed his teenage son to the perils of the media? What kind of a father allowed his son's most intimate secrets to be exposed to his assistant? What kind of a father punished his son for a situation that the son should never be placed in in the first place? What kind of a father hurt his son in the name of love?
"I guess your life isn't that perfect after all," he pondered out loud.
Félix sighed.
"I'm sorry coz, I realise now that I had nothing to be jealous of. Thanks for being so good to me, even if I don't deserve it.
Coz, I'm going to have to hurt you. More than you've ever been hurt before. I don't want to, but it's the only way that I can get back at HIM. Can you forgive me?"
Félix tenderly brushed a bond curl off Adrien's forehead with his finger.
"Please forgive me."
He kissed Adrien's forehead gently before he got up and left the room. "Adrien" still had homework to finish.