The Best Of You – Chapter Eleven
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Taking one last ragged breath, he twisted open the brass doorknob and entered quietly. Tristan figured that the sooner he faced his father, the better. Stumbling through the oak door, Tristan entered silently, catching sight of his father vigilantly writing on a piece of lined paper. With long strides, the blonde made his way to the leather chair across from his father.
"You're home early."
Aaron DuGrey froze, letting go of the pen that he had been tightly gripping. There was a moment of silence, both men contemplating what to say next. Aaron DuGrey looked up, meeting his son's eye with his ferocious grey eyes. Leaning back against the comfortable chair, he couldn't help but glare at his only son.
"I'm home early because I wanted to give you your punishment in person," he replied calmly.
"My punishment?" Tristan asked in awe, as if the word was foreign to him. "For what?"
"Don't play stupid!" Aaron Dugrey yelled, pounding his clenched fist against his cherry wood desk, "I warned you Tristan."
Tristan stayed seated, his stomach clenching uneasily. Inhaling deeply, he struggled to find valid arguments to introduce to his father. Shutting his eyes, he momentarily drowned out his surroundings. In the back of his mind, he could hear his father's cold and steady but furious voice, scolding and screaming. The words to him were inaudible; no matter how hard he tried Tristan could not bring it to himself to pay attention.
"Quit the bitching pops," Tristan managed to gain back his confidence, he leaned back and propped his feet on his father's desk, "So tell me… should I start packing now or have you sent one of the maids to it already?"
Aaron DuGrey tensed at his son's question; straightening his posture, he stood quietly and made his way around the large desk. He stood, scowling down at Tristan, his eyes formed into tight slits. Huffing, the older man pushed Tristan's legs back down onto the floor; this lone action caused Tristan to jump from surprise.
"How dare you disrespect me," his father growled, his fists formed into tight balls.
Having regained his calm and stony demeanour, Tristan also stood. He now faced his father and his impassive eyes glared forebodingly.
"I haven't done anything that you haven't seen before pops," Tristan answered slowly, his chest heaving up and down from the heavy attempts of hiding his anger.
"It's father, how many times have I told you?"
Tristan shrugged offhandedly, "About," he pretended to count using his fingers, "Oh fuck, I don't have enough fingers to give you a calculated answer. I'm sorry pops."
Tristan watched, amused and inwardly pleased with himself as his father's face slowly reddened. Aaron DuGrey approached his son with one, lonely and agonizing step. He fought hard with himself to restrain from raising his right arm.
"Do not use that type of language in this house," he responded, "Do you understand?"
Tristan nodded, rolling his icy blue eyes for show, "Clear as crystal."
Aaron shook his head disbelievingly, "What have your mother and I done to get a son like you?"
"A son like me? What exactly do you mean by that?"
"A ruthless child who cares about nothing but himself!" Aaron roared, his face contorting into pure anger.
Tristan threw his head back, laughing mercilessly, "I care about nothing but myself? If that is indeed true, then I guess I learnt from the best. What's that saying? Like father like son," he spat the last few words, his eyes glistening with spite.
"How dare you," Aaron DuGrey whispered, his hands shaking, "Speak to me like this. I'm your father!"
"Then where the hell have you been for the past eighteen fucking years?" Tristan yelled, letting go of his bottled up emotions.
"I've been working Tristan… working for this family… working to give you everything you could possibly ask for. That's where I've been," Aaron answered, his voice remained steady and refused to waver.
"You sure about that?" Tristan asked softly, his voice shaking erratically, "I would believe you if you replaced working with fucking my secretary behind my wife's back."
"I have never cheated on your mother," Aaron pointed his index finger toward Tristan treacherously, "I love your mother and I would never do anything to hurt her."
"You keep telling yourself that and maybe, years from now you'll actually force yourself to believe it. And for the record, I don't believe a single word you've just said… never have and never will," Tristan answered.
"I don't know what to do with you anymore Tristan!" Aaron roared, his voice echoed throughout the room, "You constantly go against my wishes and you refuse to listen to anybody! Why is that? Is it because of me? Do you enjoy making me angry?"
"Not anymore, but if you'd asked that same question when I was thirteen you would have received the answer you wanted."
"… And don't think I don't notice the countless sluts you bring into this house on a daily basis," Aaron rambled, ignoring his son's sarcastic response, "And then you have the audacity to talk about them afterwards."
"What are talking about?" Tristan questioned breathlessly.
"Do you think I'm stupid, son?" Aaron inquired, his eyes sparkling with amusement, "I know all about your reputation at Chilton, I had the same one. You use those girls; you play with their emotions until you get what you want. Case in point, the night of your birthday party."
"You don't know…"
"With the Gilmore girl?" Aaron laughed, "Oh yes I do know. Took her virginity, did you?"
"Shut up!" Tristan scowled, his body shook from the undeniable anger coursing through his veins. He took one cautious step to where his father stood.
"This Gilmore… you're quite smitten by her aren't you?"
Tristan didn't respond… this action alone caused his father to grin.
"I guess it's a shame really, I would love to have Miss. Gilmore for a daughter in law, but alas, that will never happen. Why? Well son, because she sees right through you…"
"If you don't – "
"She's one of the few who refuse to give in to your charm. One of the few, my son that you will never get. One of the few smart ladies. And this angers you, doesn't it?"
"Shut the fuck up! You don't know what the hell you're talking about," Tristan replied, his voice rising in volume. He could hear his own voice ringing in his ears, deafening him.
"Oh, Rory Gilmore is it? Oh yes, I caught sight of her… a pretty girl indeed…"
"This has nothing to do with her," Tristan shut his eyes, "Leave her out of this."
"Very well," Aaron nodded before making his way across the room. He stopped in front of his built in mini-bar. Grasping the handle of the mini refrigerator, he took one last look at his son before directing his attention to the contents of the icebox. Sighing slightly, he ran his hand over his greying hair and preceded pouring whiskey into a crystal glass. Dropping in two ice cubes, he took a lasting sip before turning his attention back to his son.
"You have no idea how livid I was after I got the call from headmaster Charleston earlier today," he began, his voice as hard as granite, "How embarrassed I was… and not necessarily for me," he paused, taking another sip of the alcohol, "But for our family! The DuGrey name and reputation has been tarnished because of you. My only son… my successor. Now to be fair, I'm not just angry because of today's events… I'm angry because of your questionable actions as of late. The numerous suspensions, the awful grades, the frequent phone calls I've received from your teachers, and your rude conduct."
Tristan listened to his father's speech industriously, he'd heard all of this before but somehow… this particular speech seemed different.
"It took me a long time figuring out your punishment because it seems like whatever punishment I give you, you never learn from them. You just get up the next morning and do the same stupid thing you did the previous day. I've discussed this with your mother and well… like your mother she is adamantly against it."
Tristan stayed rooted to his spot, his fists clenching and unclenching as he took in his father's words.
"Your mother thinks it'd be best if we kept you under this household, says that I should just ground you. But you and I both know how stupid and useless that would be, right?"
Again, Tristan chose to remain soundless.
Aaron paused his speech for a refill. He kept his back to his son, not daring to look back. He could feel the daggers his son was glaring his way and it made him slightly uncomfortable. Looking up at the painted ceiling, he let his eyes close as he fought to keep a frustrated groan from coming out. He was forced to watch his son's life spiralling out of control and he couldn't do a damn thing to stop it. Tristan hated him with every fibre of his being and he couldn't change that. Aaron DuGrey had learned to get used to the fact… no matter how much it killed him, he refused to let his son know that his words and actions affected him so.
"Believe it or not, when I was eighteen I was a lot like you it was ridiculous. I was a trouble making, egotistical, arrogant, good for nothing ass and everyone hated me," Aaron reminisced fondly, letting a small smile grace his thin lips, "I didn't care about anything or anyone and I didn't care how many people I had to kick down to get to where I wanted to go. But one man made me realize how ridiculous I was being and he helped me find happiness where I thought it was impossible to find it."
"Please father, get to the point," Tristan drawled lazily.
"I've decided that it would be best if… you move out."
"What?"
"You are to move in with the only man able to help you because it is obvious that I cannot," his father replied.
Tristan turned a dark pink hue, "Help me? There's nothing wrong with me!"
"Let him tell me that."
"And who is he? Who am I to live with?"
Aaron chuckled at his son's facial expression. "Why all the negative energy, son? Are you not excited? I mean, you won't be living here anymore… you won't be seeing me, nor your mother. Is that not a reason to be happy?"
"How can I be happy? You're kicking me out of my house!"
"It is your punishment and you will do it! You will stay with him for the remainder of the year, abide by his rules… and trust me son, he has many rules. And if you choose to not follow his rules, there will be serious consequences. I've experienced them first hand and trust me, they are truly horrible."
"What about school?"
"You will remain at Chilton. How ridiculous would it look if Aaron DuGrey's son is shipped to military school in the middle of the school year?"
"You had no problem with that before," Tristan argued.
"That was before I came up with this idea. Far better and it won't cause controversy for those old hags in the country club to gossip about. You should go upstairs and start packing since you are to leave immediately. His orders, not mine."
Tristan sighed dejectedly. "Who do I have to live with for the next five months?"
"The great and honourable, Janlan DuGrey. Be warned, my son… do not disappoint your grandfather, do what he says and do not cause trouble."
Tristan scoffed, fighting back a grin. This was his father's idea of cruel and intolerable punishment? Tristan inwardly chuckled… these next five months were going to be a piece of cake. He was positive.
--
AN: Hello! I apologize for the long wait but I just sort of had writer's block for a few days or so. And with the help of some wonderful Lindor chocolates, you have no idea how glad I was to finish this chapter.When Tristan moves in with his grandfather, that will be loads of fun to write. Plus, the inevitable trory action in coming chapters will be fun to write also… so sorry for the lack of action in this chapter, but I will make it up to you. That, my friends, is a promise.
And don't you just adore Aaron (thanks darling, for the suggestion. You know who you are!) and his wonderful idea.
And of course (like I would ever forget), thank you once again for the wonderful and glorious comments! They mean a lot to me and are what keep me writing.
I'll try to update again by the end of this week, if not then by the end of the weekend. Back to school is a bitch!