Self-Para
Grayson has a chat with his father who side-steps around the fact that he pulled some strings to get Grayson his position in the leadership faction.
Normally, for a guy like Grayson Tate, everything seemed so easily accessible that all he needed to do was reach out his hand. He’d thought it that way, everyone else probably wouldn’t argue with it either, yet ever since a special moment he couldn’t precisely recall, things had changed gradually in a way he wouldn’t find pleasant.
First, it was that difficult woman who should have known better than rejecting him every time he made passes at her. If he wasn’t the conceited himself he’d always have been, it was quite likely for him to think that he wasn’t as charming as he was always told. Then it was that difficult creature who kept ignoring him as though he was never there down in the cell taunting him. Tov, that was his name, as if he’d never had a past that would prove him to be more than just the object at the moment. Yet Grayson knew better than that. Somehow he just had a special feeling that things would be rather interesting as long as he kept digging into that creature’s bone.
He’d always had a keen six sense when it came to the things that intrigued him, after all.
And there’s a third problem that mildly bothered him as of late. The rumours he once overheard unintentionally about how he did not deserve the position he’d got, how he was nothing without his family title. It shouldn’t have been as troubling as it seemed, since being in this family was definitely better than being in any other ones. Yet he wouldn’t allow himself to be nothing more than a Tate. He was Grayson Tate, his family was supposed to be proud of him, not the other way around.
Noticing his father sitting at his usual spot while entering the living room, Grayson chose to sit across from him instead of going straight upstairs as he normally would have done. His old man probably was as reckless and foolish as one could be, but that didn’t mean he was a complete idiot who knew nothing about things around him. He was a Tate, nevertheless.
"People have been talking behind our backs these recent days," Grayson watched as the other man finished his drink, eyes narrowed slightly. "Are you aware of that, Father?"
Marcus sneered, not even looking up from the bottle in hand. “When have they not?”
Grayson raised his eyebrows with a faint smile, leaning back against the sofa while crossing his legs. “I never knew you actually paid attention to them.”
"Too noisy to ignore." Putting down the empty bottle and picking up another one, Marcus threw it to his son as a unspoken invitation for him to join the party.
However, Grayson rudely put it aside, eyes fixating on the half-drunk male who looked back at him only just now. “I don’t drink, father. Thought you should have already known that.”
"Pussy." Mumbling, Marcus re-focused his attention on the drink in hand, twitching his lips unsatisfying. "Cut to the chase, would you? What are they saying this time?"
"That I would not be what I am if I were not a Tate."
Those simple words seemed to have quite the complicated effect on him that Marcus actually stopped drinking for a mere second.
"And do you agree with them?" The old man asked tentatively, not giving the answer directly.
"Do you think I should agree with them?" Grayson’s fake smile vanished, eyes searching for the slightest hints on his father’s face but finding nothing.
"Don’t let others tell you what to think." Marcus suddenly stood up from where he was sitting, knocking down an empty bottle that was placed right next to his left foot. "It is your own opinion that eventually decides who you are."
Stumbling towards the stairs, he avoided his son’s gaze as he called it a night way much earlier than usual. Not knowing what he was running from, the air in the living room had somehow become too thin for him to breathe all of a sudden. Perhaps a hot bath would be of some help, perhaps.
"You know what, father." Grayson’s voice sounded just when he was about to disappear around the corner.
"This is the very first time you ever bothered to teach me something in all twenty three years of my life. Sarcastic much?"
