Alex's POV
After the humiliation marathon at Mike's house, I was back at the exit of the alley, with no clue in mind where Max lives. I began to walk down the dimly lit street, with occasional blinking of the lights as they followed me to the main road.
'Beep!'
A screeching horn blared into my ears, causing me to jolt upwards. The streets were packed with people, running across the pedestrian crossing, as their shoes tapping synchronised with the person next to them. Most of them were in formals, perhaps returning from work.
There were signs upon signs, each trying its best to catch your eyes in the flick of the moment. A metallic smell lingered in the air.
It was quite different compared to the atmosphere near the theatre.
As I reached the corner of the street to look for a bus, I looked up at the sky. It had become densely covered again, brightening the overall place, with a soft wind fleeting through the packed spaces.
'Screech!'
A green car, with a board on top blinking 'HIRED' stopped near the curb. A middle aged-man with a pot belly walked out of the car, wearing a dark green shirt-pant set. He was probably the driver.
He hustled towards the curb and opened the door. Two drunk men fell out, hanging on the edge.
"Wait!" I screamed.
The driver turned back, with restless eyes, "you want to go somewhere?"
I nodded, since I had to reach my home.
He pushed them out of the car this time, and pulled the other two by their collars, dropping them on all the curb footpath. He then shut the door, walked back to his seat and changed the blinking sign to 'AVAILABLE.'
I walked past the four men, since I didn't want any danger and got into the car, throwing the bag on the seat and unzipping the jacket I was wearing to let some air in.
The driver adjusted the mirror towards himself, showing his eyes. For some reason, he had happy looking eyes, something telling me I could trust him.
"Where are we heading to?" He asked, raising his eyebrows.
"Let me check please."
He narrowed his eyes.
I unzipped the bag and shuffled through its contents. I thought there must be some book where he mentioned his address for emergencies.
"Aha!"
I found it. A student's diary, which contained all the contact information I needed. I flipped through the pages to the information page and found the address.
"36 Square... Millington Avenue." I narrated.
The driver scoffed, "not everyone can go there, you sure that's the correct address?"
"Yes, it's mentioned here, see..." I handed him the diary.
"Whatever you say kiddo," he said as he shifted the gear to D, with a noticeable increase in the grumbling.
As he got on the street, tiny droplets began to paint the windshield, mixing the bokeh of lights with lenses of water. The side mirrors were also sprinkled, casting a shadow on my face as I looked outside. There was a faint music from the radio in the background, leading to an unexpected relaxing atmosphere.
Perhaps that was necessary.
He drove me up the city, through tall buildings and entered a very sophisticated community, with stone floors, surrounded by marble waterfall roundabouts and magnificent white villas with black glass windows. Each had it's own yard, and community centres sprinkled all around the place.
"Alright, here we are," the driver said as he turned the wheel to enter an exclusive corner villa, hitting the brakes near the gate.
"You sure this is the correct address?"
"Cash or card?"
"Uh... Cash please," I took out the cash from the wallet in the bag and handed it to him.
I walked out of the cab and pushed the gate, entering the grand manifest of a house. Upon a closer look, the white house also had mosaic tile panelling and a chandelier right above the main door, that was made of copper.
There were around ten expensive-looking sports cars, exclusive vehicles parked casually, like soldiers lined up in duty.
I climbed the stairs and rang the bell, which was opened by a person who seemed like a butler. Long tailed coat, crisp manners and a pair of white gloves, a textbook butler.
"Sir is waiting for you in the dining hall, sir."
Damn.
It was Max who was rich.
What is this punk even doing then?
The interior of the house was even more obnoxious. Taxidermy carpets in the the dim-lit lobby, that lead to the spiral staircase and crystal chandeliers at every 50 metres, how big was this house even?
The butler led me to a room at the end of the hall, and directed me to go inside.
The hall, like the rest of the house was over the top checkerboard floored, with black damask wallpaper. A framed 'Last Supper' was hung in the center of the wall.
There was a long, rectangular dining table, covered in crisp linen cloth, with a centred fabric, donned with white flowers, red candles and salt and pepper shakers.
There were also bone china plates placed at equal intervals, with gold cutlery next to each.
Right then I noticed something that doesn't belong there.
My test paper.
With the glorious score of 10 on 100 written in red ink.
For some reason, my legs began to feel weak, as sweat formed on my temples. My breathing spiked as I slumped down on the chair, wrapping myself in my shivering arms.
'Come on Max, it can't be that bad.'
'Tap. Tap.'
Footsteps began to echo through the hallway. As each step grew closer, my stomach began to sink, causing an upturned feeling of my head spinning, heart thumping against my chest at irregular intervals. I began to chew through my nails, prying into the skin, and as a last resort, buried my head into my arms so it could pass.
"GET UP RIGHT NOW!" A voice roared, causing me to jolt enough to shake the chair.
With no other choice, I looked up.
It was a man, dressed in a black linen suit and a golden tie. His face had wrinkles around it, with a big forehead and side-parted hair tied upwards. His hawk-like eyes stared straight into my soul, with his lips turned into a frown. His stance was exuding charm and allure, like the rich people you see on TV.
It was Max's father.
And it was definitely bad news for him.
As the man walked towards me, stopping in front of my face. I fell back in the chair, crossing my arms in front of my face.
"You are a disgrace, did you know that?"
His voice was monotonous but piercing.
Smack.
He landed on straight across my cheek, locking my jaw sideways. The chair legs trembled, collapsing together with me.
I lay on the floor, now way below him, perhaps how he likes it, but couldn't stop glaring straight into his eyes. The cheek burned, and I felt my blood vessels rushing to the site.
'Look away Max.'
Of all the times he could be brave, he chose this moment.
Thud.
He kicked me in the groin, leading me to cower and fall over.
Everyone around was looking at the debacle but none had the audacity to come help me.
"You are a failure." He gritted his teeth, not even looking at me.
"Couldn't even get a replacement to write your papers, utterly useless," he scoffed.
He bent down to pick me up by the collar, and looked straight into my eyes as he muttered, "of all my investments, you were the most regretted one."
After he was done venting, he simply straightened his suit and walked to the butler, "lock him up," he commaded as he walked away.
The butler turned towards me.
"Sorry sir, but–"
"I'll go myself."
Wincing, I stumbled to prop myself up and walked to the room next to the dining hall on instinct. It was dark, damp and small, enough for a human to stand in for days. There was no switch around, and no space for air circulation, except the amateurly-dug hole in the the wall.
"Click."
The butler locked me in, to drown in my own sorrows. The pain began to kick in as I caressed my wounds, but this time, it was from the heart. A bunch of similar memories glanced by.
Perhaps this poor soul had no one to comfort him.