Hate You, Love You. - Chapter 113

Jason

”What’s going on?”

”Jason,” mum says excitedly, her heels clanking on the marble floor as she runs towards me, side stepping the streamers and balloons. She gives me a bare hug and I pat her back. ”I missed my son so much.”

Missed me so much that you only called once?

”Yea?” I release her and she smiles down at me. Mum hasn’t been home in a while. Heather Beauty is expanding to South Korea so she has been down there. I guess things are settled that’s why she’s back.

Mum and I look alike, I don’t see a single trace of my birth dad in me. I haven’t even met the dude before, but whatever. I inherited my chestnut hair from her along with other facial features. Not to brag or anything, but she’s fucking gorgeous and the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. With her dark bodycon dress clutching to her like a second skin, along with her hair that she keeps in a bun most of the time, have to admit, I can see why Dean married her.

At thirty-six, she looks like she’s in her twenties which I have to credit to her regular visits to the spa, yoga and botox. Yes, I said botox. She thinks I don’t know that but her plastic surgeon is on speed dial.

Mum had me at seventeen. She didn’t really divulge much details as to how I was conceived, the only thing she said was that she thought she was in love, the guy knocked her up and nine months later, she had me. Truth be told, the reason why I didn’t want to tell her that I almost had a kid at sixteen was because she would be disappointed. History repeating itself is not a good look, especially in Bridgewood where everyone knows everyone. It’s a small town and gossip travels faster than the speed of light. I don’t care about gossip. I’ve been the hot topic since I started schooling at Adelaide so I’ve learned to have a thick skin. If you don’t pay attention to shit, it won’t harm you. But, I wouldn’t have minded if Mariah gave me a fucking choice.

Anyway, even though we’re not in the same financial situation as we were years ago, mum would be crushed.

I guess that’s one ”sin” I’d be taking to my grave.

”Again, what’s going on?” I’m barely able to drop my bag because the mansion looks like it’s being renovated or decorated. People are going in and out the back entrance, some are bringing in champagne flutes while others are bringing in balloons.

”Mind the art pieces, please.” Mum calls out to a man in a dark shirt who is bringing in a chandelier.

”I’m having a luncheon.”

Good evening to you too.

”For?”

”Heather Beauty of course.”

Right.

”You know I’ve been in South Korea for a while, actually got back this afternoon.” That explains the two suitcases on the stairs. ”And things are going good. I actually have a location in central Seoul and the store is launching on Monday along with this huge billboard that we purchased for promotion. What better way to celebrate than to have a luncheon?” she says animatedly. ”I know you don’t care about beauty stuff, but you should be excited for me. You’re scowling.”

I’m scowling, not because I don’t care about beauty stuff, but I wish she would talk about anything OTHER than work. I swear, I only see her and Dean a handful of times a month and the only thing they talk about is work. I wish she would ask me how my day went or what sports I play in school or if I have a fucking girlfriend at least. I miss who she was before she married into wealth.

I’m happy for her, she is finally living her dream, but I want my mum back.

”I’m…happy,” I grimace. ”It’s great you’re expanding your company.” Note the sarcasm.

”Right,” she blinks rapidly like a doll. ”So, I’m hosting a party on Sunday to celebrate and I expect you to be in attendance.”

Not a plea, but a demand.

”Are you asking or telling?” I ask, the scowl still prominent on my face.

”Telling of course. You’re my only son. You have to be in attendance.”

”No,” I deadpan. ”I don’t have to do anything. I’m not going.” She said it herself, I’m not into beauty stuff, and I’m surely not into spending two hours on my feet fake smiling at strangers I don’t care about.

I’ve been to one too many events for Heather Beauty and they are exhausting. I went for the last event in Amsterdam, Heather Beauty was launching a male makeup line two years ago, and a model got sick. Guess who had to step in? Me. Apparently, I was the only option available and they had to do photo-ops for InStyle magazine.

Up until then, I didn’t know that men, real men, use shit like concealer, brow gel and foundation but it’s a thing and apparently a big business if mum is willingly venturing into it.

Worst day of my life, but the pictures came out great.

”Please,” her eyes are glossy and she actually pouts. ”I know you don’t owe me anything and I know I haven’t been the best parent on the planet but I like having you at these events.” Her hands clasp my arm. ”You’re my only son and probably the only kid I’d have in a while,” she chuckles. ”I’d be happy if you came.”

”I’ll consider it,” I grumble. Despite her faults, she and I both know that I can’t stay mad at her for long and she uses it to her advantage.

”Is that a yes?” she asks hopefully.

”It’s a maybe.”

”Bring a date then.”

”I haven’t even said yes yet,” I chuckle.

”Well, you’re nineteen and I know you must have a girlfriend. I mean, not to brag, but you have really good genes,” she points to herself. ”You have to have a girlfriend I don’t know about.” This is mum’s not-so-subtle-attempt at asking me if I have a girlfriend. She never knew about my relationship with Mariah, I’d like to keep it that way, and I don’t think I want her to know about my new found attraction to Melody.

”I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

”You do,” she pesters. ”But, I’ll let it slide until you’re ready to tell me.”

She wiggles her eyebrows and I shrug. ”Whatever.”

I side step her and leave the chaos that is the foyer and living room, trudging up the spiral staircase and into my bedroom. My bedroom is…well bigger than the one’s in the motels we stayed in. It has been the same since I moved here and I haven’t had anything redecorated or replaced apart from the bed.

The walls are a deep grey with white undertones. I’m really into random art pieces so I have a couple of similar coloured paintings hanging on almost every corner of my wall. Bought them all from an art convention that Dean took us to as a family.

”Hey, buddy,” I greet Buzz, my pet hamster in the corner of my room. He’s in his little cage and he’s having an evening siesta. I can’t explain why I have a pet hamster, I just do because…they’re cute and not necessarily high mainteinance.

Turning off the regular lights and replacing it with the LED ones, I drop my bag on the king-sized bed in the middle of the room. One thing I love about the room? My covers which has my name boldly written on each one of them in grey scale. The bed bounces due to the impact of the bag and I turn on the heater. Heading for the ensuite bathroom, I take a piss and head back to the room, open my bag and check my phone. My phone is always available, no matter the time of day, even when I’m in school because it’s not easy living a double life.

Being a ”regular” teenager by day and running a gang by night is a full time job that stresses me the fuck out, but I have to deal with it. I’ve been dealing with it for three years and I’m not going to stop now, not when business is booming.

I always try to separate my two worlds so that they don’t clash, hence why I never do any gang related shit at home. Ammunitions, drugs, and weapons are all stored at the base and clients only know that address not my house address. It makes things easier for me. Every meeting is being held at the base and every order is being taken there.

Swiping the phone open, I check my messages. Five from Ryan, two from Janet, one from Dean probably asking if mum is home, three from Pearson and none from Princess.

We haven’t been communicating as of late and I don’t know whose fault it is.

Last month, the last time we talked, she kept crying and chanting ”he’s dead.” Who? I don’t know , she refused to say no matter how many times I asked. Women are complicated creatures and she’s no exception. I thought we were making exceptional strides in getting to know each other more and now it’s like there’s this brick wall between us…again. I haven’t been seeing her in school either, and when I do, she’s with that cock-blocker Theo and Paris. I don’t know what’s up, but what I do know is whoever died must have been someone important to her. She was so hysterical that she couldn’t drive home. I took her home and called a car company to have her new vehicle dropped to her residence.

I wish she would open up to me more but I know that trust takes time to build.