"You tried your best."
Theodore mumbled something incoherent under his breath. His fingers drew idle circles around the dark bruise that was forming across his left cheek.
He shot his son a glance out the corner of his eye, taking measure of his sullenness, at the grease in his hair that was ruining his fringe, at the sweat that was still beading down his brow. "We'll be more careful next time."
"I don't want there to be a next time."
He suppressed a twitch, the barest showing of his true emotions. He gave Theodore a genial smile in the rearview mirror instead. "I know it can be hard, especially since you are so unaccustomed to the strain, but that's why we've got to keep going. I ran High School track and was a Quarterback for my home team, but I didn't get that position overnight. It took work, real work, work that had me in tears and on my knees begging for mercy. But my father never let me quit, and I-"
Theodore made a displeased sound, low in the back of his throat. He stopped talking again and let his son gather his thoughts.
The car ride was silent for a moment, a moment too long for his liking. Too much sullen silence uninterrupted and Theodore would clam up entirely. He turned the radio on and switched the channel over to a classical station he knew Theodore hated, and he hummed along to the tune for a moment, the opening notes to Camille Saint-Saëns Third Violin Concerto.
Theodore gave it thirty-four seconds before speaking after letting out another ungainly sound. "Can you change the station please?"
Kaiser hummed. "Maybe you wouldn't mind the music so much if you took those violin lessons to heart. I paid-"
"Lots for those lessons, I know. And I know that gym membership probably wasn't cheap either, but-"
"It's alright, Theo." It hadn't cost him a dime, but Theodore didn't need to know that. "I just wish you be more willing to try new things. When I was your age-"
"I'm not you, sir."
Kaiser hummed again.
Max Anders sighed. "Of course you aren't. I know that."
Theodore fell silent once again.
He let the silence in, this time, turning the radio's volume up.
The string work carried him away into a place where he could reach a sort of equilibrium until Theodore coughed politely.
He looked back into the rearview. "Yes?"
"The Radio? Sir?"
Kaiser's tongue prodded his cheek.
Max reached over and changed the station.
(X)
His Luxury Sedan gently rolled to a stop, and he switched the radio off and killed the engine, letting out a performative sigh. "Well, here we are." He gestured lightly towards Kayden's garish choice of apartment with a flourish. He eyed the dark-skinned men and women who shambled in and out of its entrances in bemusement. No doubt Kayden avoided them like the plague. "Are you two having any money troubles again? If you need anything, you can always call me. The both of you don't have to stay in a place like this if you don't want to."
Theodore was quiet. He looked back into the rearview and saw him rubbing the bruise again. "Does it still hurt?"
Theodore shook his head. "No. It's just.." He trailed off, lips pursed. "Is she gonna be mad at me?"
The scoff that flew from his lips was automatic. "Of course not. I'll be getting an earful about half an hour after I drop you off, but you'll be fine. She'll fuss for a moment before leaving you be to fawn over Aster."
"I don't want her to be mad at you either."
The small smile he gave his son was genuine, surprising even himself. He berated himself internally for his lack of control. Theodore's performance had disappointed him. He had thought he would have used his bulk and size to his advantage.
He had not.
"Don't worry about me. I'll smooth it over. You are...sure you don't wish to keep trying?"
Theodore nodded. "It's just not for me."
What in the world even is?
Track. Violin lessons. Guitar. Basketball. Football. Archery. Fencing. The Opera. Vocal lessons. Tennis. Piano. Jogging.
Even a simple exercise regime would satisfy.
He nodded his head in acknowledgment. "Fair enough. Give Aster a kiss for me."
Theodore smiled. "Will do."
He undid his seatbelt and ambled his way out of his seat and out of the vehicle, giving him a half-hearted wave goodbye before disappearing inside Kayden's apartment complex.
Max sighed. Another day of wasted effort.
But he wouldn't give up.
He'd make his son a man or die trying.
As he made to pull away, his cell rang. He answered the call without looking at the number. "Yes?"
"The Oni came by one of our drug factories, put it to the torch, presumably at Lung's instruction. I told them not to pick a building so close to the ABB's frontier, but they didn't listen."
He was astounded. "You called me about this?" On my personal cell, he said without words.
"I didn't think you'd be busy. My fuckin bad."
Kaiser narrowed his eyes, scanning the area for any interlopers who might try listening in or bothering the white man in the luxury car who was alone and seemingly defenseless. "Spread the word and call a meeting. The usual place, the usual time. Do not call this number again."
Bradley snorted. "Aye-aye, boss man."
Kaiser put his cell back into his coat pocket and Max let out a slightly embittered sigh.
He looked down at his watch. Twenty-eight minutes, forty-three seconds until Kayden's phone call.
He shrugged to himself. He had the time to kill.
The boardwalk with its ocean view called to him. He could use the quiet.
(X)
The ocean was calm. Max watched the tide crash against the sparsely populated beach with a melancholy grin. The evening was the only good time to come and enjoy the vista. Too many screaming children and tourists by day, too dark to be appreciated at night.
Not that he had the free time to be so picky and choosey. But he could damn well try.
The sound of footsteps reached his ears, pitter-pattering in rapid succession across the boardwalk's wooden surface. The footsteps stopped a few feet away from him, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw a female figure lean against the same rail he was perched upon. He spared a moment to look upon her.
She was tall, only three or four inches shorter than him, long dark hair draped down her back. He'd guess her about fourteen or fifteen, due to the glasses and unremarkable bust. Her breathing was harsh and ragged, and he could tell by the leanness of her body and the lack of musculature that she was unused to physical exertion. Her face was long and angular, slightly manish, with a nose long enough to make speculation about her ancestry ambiguous, despite her paleness. Her posture was poor, her shoulders slouched slightly. She seemed the sort boys and girls her own age would poke and prod at for laughs.
Inwardly, Max frowned. And yet she tries harder than my own son.
The Jew(?) girl turned her head to look at him, brows furrowing, and he realized he'd been staring at her a moment too long to be socially acceptable.
He salvaged the upset with a small smile and hearty chuckle. "Rough workout?"
The Jew(?) girl let out a broke, exhausted chuckle, suitably disarmed. "Rough jog. My lungs feel like they're on fire."
"Do some stretches beforehand next time. It'll loosen your body up and help get it used to the rapid movement. Did you bring any water with you?"
The Jew(?) girl's cheeks colored slightly.
"Do so next time as well. Make sure to drink in small sips, if you chug water before, during, or after an intense workout or exercise, you'll make yourself feel worse and perform poorly."
She nodded her head, taking care to catch her breath. Kaiser watched struggle in amusement before she finally got her breath enough to speak without gasping. "You work out a lot?"
Max nodded. "I have a home gym and some exercise equipment in my office. I do my best to stay in shape."
The Jew(?) girl gave him a quick once over. "I can tell. You're pretty..huh. Pretty buff. Look kinda familiar too."
I'm one of the richest men in the country. "I'm no-one important."
The Jew(?) girl chuckled again. "Neither am I."
He raised a brow internally at the self-depreciation. "You could be. You're already on the right track. How long have you been jogging?"
"A week now."
His smile shifted a touch, a hint of genuineness slipping in. "Well, you've already lasted longer my son. He took it up for a day before quitting. Do your homework, go the extra mile in gym, and you can do as well as I have fairly easily. Just takes hard work."
"You spend a lot of time with your son?"
"As much as I can. I've been trying to get him to branch out, try new things, get new hobbies, but he's been resistant."
She shifted in place, her voice warm. "That's nice. It's good you wanna spend time with your kid."
The cogs were turning in his mind. "Do you not spend a lot of time with your father?"
The Jew(?) girl's eyes were downcast. "We've been a little..distant lately. Haven't done much together in a while."
Max rolled his eyes internally. The solution was simple in his mind. "Invite him out on your next jog then."
"Maybe I will. Maybe we could talk about something other than school then."
"Studying for anything in particular?"
"Oh, uh, no. Not really."
"Office jobs pay quite handsomely if you can find the right one. A degree in business could suit you."
She blinked at him owlishly. "I don't see myself as the kinda person to work in an office."
He shrugged minutely. "What do you dream of doing then?"
The Jew(?) girl hummed. "I don't know. Maybe something with music?"
He quirked a brow. "What instrument?"
"I can play the flute, and my mom.." She stopped a moment. "My mom played the piano. We still have it."
He nodded in approval. "Both wonderful instruments. I never learned the flute, but the Violin and Piano came to me naturally."
Her eyes glittered like stars in the moonlight. "Awesome."
He preened slightly under the praise. Opened his mouth-
And his phone rang. He coughed politely and checked the caller ID.
He blinked. Checked his watch.
"Huh." Somehow he'd lost track of time.
His thirty minutes were up.
"What is it?"
He chuckled. "A phone call from my ex-wife."
"That doesn't sound fun..."
He huffed in amusement that was shockingly genuine. This had been a rather pleasant distraction. "Not particularly. I'll be a minute. It was wonderful speaking to you, Miss..?"
"Taylor."
"Taylor." He repeated. Max extended a hand for her to shake.
After a moment's hesitation, she reached out and shook it.
He smiled wide, phone ringing in his offhand, imagining the look on Kayden's face were she to see him shake hands with a Jewish girl with a straight face.
He put the phone to his ear as the girl departed in the opposite direction. "Yes?"
"You got Theo into a fucking FIGHT?!"
He sighed. "A wrestling match."
"How is that any better?!"
"It was at a reputable Gym with a coach I vetted running it, with other youth his age in attendance. You know he's always struggled to make friends. I simply thought-"
"That's bullshit and you know it. You just wanted to 'toughen him up' even though you know-"
Kasier scoffed. "Know what? That my son is grotesquely out of shape? He is. That he's anti-social at best? He is. He needs to toughen up, if he's going to be running my company, running our-"
"It's not our Empire anymore, Max."
Kaiser chuckled. "You say that..."
Kayden growled. "Don't make him do anything like that again."
Kaiser hummed. "That's not for you or me to decide. I offered him the opportunity. He chose to squander it, but he accepted initially. If you want to keep being able to call me controlling without any hint of irony, then you'll stand aside."
There was silence on the other end of the line. Max realized she had hung up her phone in anger.
Kaiser chuckled.
Well, that was the fun part of his day over with.
Now for the absurd.
(X)
"Is everyone here?"
There was a chorus of nods all across the room. Every senior member of his Empire, all in costume, all waiting with bated breath.
All except for one empty chair.
He sighed. "Is Bradley late again?"
Cricket nodded out of the corner of his eye. He could barely make her out through the thin visor of his helmet. He gave her a measured glance, eyed the tattered boxing tape around her knuckles, and the ludicrous bird cage wrapped around her head.
He felt a dim thrum of amusement curl his lips upward. He forced it down and put Kaiser back on again.
Not for the first time, he wondered just how on earth anyone in this room could be taking any of this seriously.
Grown men and women plus a teenager, in full body costumes and stage names, waiting on a serial killer and pit fighter to crawl out of whatever deep, dank, dark hole he'd buried himself under to discuss the fundamental tenets of white supremacy and to prepare battle plans for a fight against an Asian man whom had christened himself'Dragon' in a language no-one in the room understood but him.
It was a comedy. A farce.
Here was, a billionaire, dressed in full-plate armor on a swelteringly hot fall day,indoors, at nine o'clock at night on a Saturday.
He may as well have been dressed as aclown.
But playing the Jester had its own benefits.
"Let's wait for him then, shall we?"
More nods, in perfect synchronization. They were hanging onto his every word like it was gospel.
The smirk came back, and this time he let it stay.