An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
As Long as I Can Travel this World with You: Chapter 23 Preview
As a precaution, Kemal made sure most of the emails that came his way were directed to his assistants a long time ago.
The emails automatically redirected to his assistants often come from strangers with “grand” ideas looking for an in with Demiral Group–or for an investment in their own business from Kemal himself. Occasionally, he reportedly gets offers of companionship from other women, ones who not so subtly claim that he deserves a younger and more vivacious woman than his wife. If Kemal answered such emails, he would ask these women if they ever met his wife. Leyla warned Kemal on their wedding night that if he ever cheated on her, she would castrate him, turn his testicles into jewelry, and leave him in poverty after taking him for everything he owned. Then, she pounced on him and completely let loose, despite the fact she was five months pregnant at the time. Looking back, the intensity might have been BECAUSE she was pregnant. They didn't leave their honeymoon suite for three days. Despite grief, trauma, mental health crises, and aging, her energy has barely decreased. He would be an absolute idiot to stray from his wife. She is the woman who he has loved, raised children with, experienced momentous loss with, and healed with, all while he has done his absolute best to keep up with her. The models, actresses, socialites, and Courtney Love have nothing on Leyla.
Many emails also include one-sided correspondence from strangers regarding their selfless love for one of his granddaughters and how they want his blessing before proposing, despite them likely never meeting any of his girls. Contrary to popular belief, Kemal has never been the type to expect his grandchildren or their chosen significant others to ask for his permission to date. Sometimes he wishes he was that type of man, considering the up in the clouds women Melis has brought home, as well as the men Elif associated with who had no business dating someone her age in the first place. Bora was a welcome change initially. He was five and a half years older, but that gap was appropriate compared to the others. The novelty wore off after maybe a year, but Kemal continued to play nice despite his developing reservations. He allowed Bora to take the yacht so he and Elif could have a day on the water. Stupid decision on his part, since they came back engaged. That engagement made him realize he wished he had presented himself as the type of man who needed to give approval for a proposal. Because if that were the case, he would have told Bora absolutely not and to get lost already due to disregarding Elif’s opinions on many matters in life, his insecurity over her power in the workforce, and getting too flirtatious with other women. Who knows when that boy actually started sleeping around?
He can't foresee Style behaving in such a way. He bought Fadel the restaurant, became more successful than most automotive engineers become, and at least informed Kemal that he wanted to propose to Fadel. Did he fight almost every single tweak in his plan? Absolutely. But Kemal respects that. In fact, Style is his favorite person any of his grandchildren have dated by far. Sure, he has an advantage. Style would have to present himself pretty badly for them not to accept him.
Although, Kemal would happily embrace Fadel dating a fifty year old telemarketer who answered questions in grunts as soon as he was off the clock if it meant having his grandson back. But Style does not fit that very specific example. Besides being a successful business owner and automotive engineer, he played a role in bringing Fadel back to them. He has also played a key role in regulating Fadel in times of trauma regression. Style put in the effort to learn some Turkish on his own. Kemal will make sure the boy has an intensive tutor to make him proficient, considering the family he will be marrying into. Style is only a few weeks older than Fadel. No power imbalance dynamic in that regard. Kemal deeply appreciates and respects him. He gets along with everyone in the family, adores Fadel, and he helped bring their boy home. He is wonderful, despite being completely unexpected because Fadel being alive had been completely unexpected until a couple of weeks ago.
Which is probably why this new influx of emails is also completely unexpected once Fatima texts him to make him aware.
Fatima: There have been approximately 38 emails from international socialite women with connections to the film, fashion, and music industries expressing interest in offering well wishes and companionship to your grandson during this momentous time.
Fatima: Also, three baronesses and four viscountesses spread across multiple European royal families, and one Nyoō from Japan have also expressed interest. Some personally, some through family representatives. I forwarded those emails to you because I don't get paid enough to turn down important, entitled royals and their strategic romantic gestures.
Kemal: Leyla and I just gifted you a new Lexus. You liked it so much that you bought one for your husband in full.
Fatima: I WILL NEVER GET PAID ENOUGH TO TURN DOWN THE WEIRD SUITORS OF YOUR GRANDCHILDREN.
Kemal: Get creative with it. Give them each a different refusal. Say he is becoming a Catholic priest. Tell them he is embarking for Antarctica for a long-term research project. Maybe let them know he is a firm believer of only living with basic essentials and they will need to leave their luxurious residences to have a shot with him.
Fatima: All fun ideas, but I feel like ignoring them is a better call.
Kemal: Then why are you stressing out and sending their emails my way? Send none of them my way. Ignore them all.
Fatima: Even ones that aren't romantic in tone?
Kemal: Even those.
Fatima: I am not used to ignoring emails from Buckingham Palace, sorry. They apologized again for Andrew’s behavior back in 2009, by the way. Vaguely and without using his name, but it was obvious. You should probably answer that email yourself. They want to know if there is anything they can do for you, Fadel, and your family. I don't know what they can do from England.
Kemal: Probably offer a secluded manor for a visit while subtly trying to get Leyla to take back her yearly social media rants about Andrew being an Epstein associated pervert.
Fatima: Aw, what a fun vacation! 😃
Kemal: I will answer Buckingham Palace vaguely and politely.
Fatima: And the president of Turkey? I also forwarded you an email from him.
Kemal snarls but taps out his response.
Kemal: I will be perfectly pleasant.
“Who are you texting?” Leyla asks as she comes back into the room and throws herself on the bed, “One of your many lovers?”
“One of our few assistants,” Kemal says pointedly, “Fatima wanted to let me know that Fadel…now has prominent suitors.”
Leyla growls and sits back up, “My canim is not a prize to be won! He is a very handsome and talented boy, but he is NOT a bachelor. He is in a committed relationship. With a man. You tell those girls to hit on someone more single and less gay.”
“I will not be outing our grandson.”
“He's already out!” Leyla says, “All of his friends and employees know. He didn't keep it from us! He even suggested writing it in the statement to get those women outside to stop it with their nonsense!”
“I'm aware,” Kemal says, “And if he would like to make his own statement regarding his orientation and relationship, he can do that. Although, I do agree with Azra. Such a statement would be better made after the crowds thin out.”
“Oh, I know that,” Leyla says, “But I don't want Style to feel threatened by any perceived competition. He loves our canim! I can't wait for the engagement. I can't wait for the wedding. Oh, Kemal! Where do you think they will have it?”
“Wherever their hearts desire because we will make sure of it,” Kemal says.
“I want to invite those women outside,” Leyla says, jumping to her feet, “So they can all cry over not being in Style’s place as they try their best to object to the marriage. I think Fadel and Style would ignore them, then make out and give them the middle finger while doing so.”
“Now you are just being silly,” Kemal tells her before she goes over to sit on his lap, “I have emails to answer.”
“The socialites?”
“I am not even bothering,” Kemal says, “Buckingham Palace. Our president–”
“Ew!” Leyla says with a scoff, “Kemal, don't. No, actually, please do. Give him my most unkind regards–”
“Leyla,” Kemal cuts in, but feels the corner of his mouth twitching up before he opens his laptop, “Let’s at least read it first.”
“Let’s!”
By the time Kemal gets his email open and scrolls past the other messages–some of which he will ignore, some of which he will answer with sincerity, and some of which he will answer professionally–he finds the president’s email and is immediately annoyed by how kind it sounds.
“Dear Kemal Bey,” Kemal reads, “I want to extend our formal recognition of the extraordinary news shared by your family regarding Fadel Kasemsan. The survival and return of your grandson is a matter of profound human significance. I acknowledge the pain endured by the Demiral and Kasemsan families and offer my relief that Fadel has been reunited with his surviving relatives. I have had my advisors note the serious concerns raised in your family’s statement regarding past identification procedures and associated records. Relevant offices will be prepared to cooperate with authorities. I will also be willing to personally advocate for justice. The parties in Thailand responsible for such a transgression should face consequences. Your grandson is a dual citizen. He deserves that honor and protection since he is one of our own. Know that if he chooses to live in our country, it will be a seamless transition and he will be safe. Regardless, I wish Fadel privacy, stability, and the protection owed to every citizen whose life has been shaped by grave wrongdoing. Please accept our formal good wishes during this period of reunion.”
Despite the message being nice enough, Leyla starts gagging.
“Leyla–”
“He's the worst!” Leyla says, “He only wrote that because he likely wants you to clarify to the public that Turkish offices were not involved with the corrupt misidentification! That email? It's just some long and fancy way to say ‘We didn't do it'. You know it. I would say that even if that email was written by a man with my political beliefs. But go ahead. Answer him.”
So Kemal does.
Dear Sir,
My family acknowledges receipt of your message and appreciates offers of support.
Fadel and I were just discussing how regrettable it is that the recent conservative family values protection bill passed despite its obvious harm to vulnerable citizens, particularly those whose private lives already require protection from public and institutional intrusion. Your note on privacy and dignity is therefore received with interest.
Regards,
Kemal Demiral
“Petty,” Leyla says, but then kisses his cheek, “I love it.”
“Learned from the best,” Kemal says, then closes the laptop before Leyla can scold some persistent baroness via email. She seems to know what he is doing, but kisses him instead of arguing. That state of bliss only lasts about ten seconds when they receive a knock on their door.
“I’ll get it!” Leyla sings, hopping out of his lap to rush over to the door. When she opens it, Leo is standing there with a slightly befuddled look on his face. It's a rare expression for Leo. He started working for the family 22 years ago and proved his abilities quickly by being the guard who could most effectively keep track of a sneaky, wandering Melis, the only grandchild who had cycled through guards since she was a toddler. Other than taking some time off for his wedding and then for the birth of his son, he stayed on her security team until she went to college before entering a high level security coordination role.
“It's Leo!” Leyla says with a gasp, as if she didn't see him just yesterday, “Come in, come in! How is Nok? Is she in yet? What about your son?”
Leo steps further into the room, “She and Kaan made it to Istanbul from Antalya, are taking a little time to spend time in the city, and will be arriving here tomorrow. I am glad I booked their flights before they all sold out.”
“As am I,” Kemal says, “Does Kaan still plan to tour universities here in Bangkok?”
“Yes, Kemal Bey,” Leo says, “That is the plan.”
“I think that will be so good for him,” Leyla says, “You are a quarter Thai through your mother! Sort of like how Selin and my Taylan were, except your mother is half Italian too. Kaan will probably feel more connected to a part of his culture if he spends more time in Thailand, especially with Nok being Thai! My Taylan did. I love your little boy. He reminds me of Taylan more than you do. Did I ever tell you that?”
“A few times over the years, ma’am,” Leo says, “And as someone who knew him, I take it as a compliment in the highest regard.”
Leyla grins–her eyes slightly teary–before pulling him in for a hug and letting him go, “He is a wonderful boy and I hope he has a marvelous time here. It's hard to believe that Andrew creep is indirectly responsible for his existence! You may have never met your wife if Fadel and Elif hadn't rescued her from him! I bet she is happy Fadel is alive too, right?”
“Very much so,” Leo says, “She is looking forward to meeting him. Speaking of Fadel…and of…Andrew, while we’re at it, there is someone in the main lobby who has royal family connections, reportedly a distant cousin descended from Queen Victoria. She wants to get to know Fadel and claims they played together at an event when they were children–”
“Oh, please!” Leyla huffs, stomping away, “She is ridiculous if she thinks she is even entering the ground VIP lobby, let alone our space! Have her kicked out! If word spreads and makes us look less than hospitable, I will post another exposé about the horrific, outcast creep in her family. Your wife always likes those, and you do too despite having a wonderful poker face! Use that when you kick her out. It can be intimidating to those who don't know you better.”
“I would have no issue with doing that if she arrived alone,” Leo says, “I would even have no issue if she arrived with Buckingham Palace security detail. But she is with military personnel from Thailand. I guess she is friends with one of the king’s first cousin’s grandchildren. I guess with that tie as well as her own back home, she was able to obtain royal military guards for her trip–guards who are currently refusing to listen to me. They seem slightly embarrassed and conflicted, but are acting on orders from her friend to not leave until Fadel comes down personally. She said no one else from the family would do.”
Kemal pinches the bridge of his nose, “I'm not putting my grandson through that.”
“That is not what I am suggesting,” Leo says, “But I do need permission to split staff and send them to the main lobby since calling authorities to have her removed will not work in this case.”
Before Kemal or Leyla can say anything else, there is another knock on the door. When Leo goes to open it, Lara is standing there with a pleasant smile on her face.
“I texted Fadel,” Lara says, “He is dressed now and ready to break that delusional bitch’s heart.”
“Oh, Lara,” Leyla groans, “Why did you bother him with this nonsense? I don't want him to stress out over anything, especially over some girl he has no interest in. I know he doesn't want to deal with this–”
“I’m heading down,” Fadel says, coming into view, “I want to get this over with before Style wakes up.”
“Fadel, don't you dare!” Leyla snaps, then quickly corrects herself, “I mean…Canim, sweetheart, let’s think this through.”
“Nothing to think over,” Fadel says with a shrug, “She won't leave until she sees me, so I will go and turn her down. She will get her wish that way.”
“I don't think getting rejected is what she wishes for,” Lara says, then leans in, “Will you reconsider if she offers you swans? One of my suitors offered me a flock of swans. I told him I mustn’t take such a thoughtful gift but he insisted. When I still turned him down, he returned and demanded that I give him his swans back. By that point, I trained them to attack him specifically. And that's how we ended up with a swan park in one of the courtyards at the Sovereign.”
Kemal watches as Fadel blinks and takes in his youngest cousin's words, then finally processes them.
“I think she has Royal military guards with her, not swans,” Fadel says, “Probably ones who work for the extended family of the king. Not even the king himself. I will be fine.”
“Wait,” Kemal says, holding up a hand before turning to Leo, “Bring her to the ground VIP lounge. I don't want her to enter the 31st floor, and definitely not this floor. But if Fadel wants to see if he can get her to leave himself, I won't stop him. But I want you and the rest of the guards on him. If the contingency to getting this girl and her assigned personnel to comply is him going down to tell her himself that he has no interest, we can try it. But–and I mean this, Fadel–if she returns or eventually starts trying to show up in public areas you frequent, then you are to avoid contact with her at all costs.”
Fadel nods once, “Okay.”
“And I am going down,” Kemal says, getting up, “As Melis says, I have aura.”
“You do, Dede,” Lara says, “You're very intimidating when you want to be. I get it from you. And we’ll find out if Fadel does too.”
“Well, I am coming down as well!” Leyla says, walking towards the door, “The fact that she thinks my canim is a prospective match! Please! You don't get tempted by whatever she has to offer, canim. It's a trap.”
Kemal is relieved that his grandson doesn't seem to feel curious or intimidated.
“She doesn't have a shot,” Fadel tells them, “I already have someone across the hall.”
Leo calls for back up through his watch, and once they have it, they head down to the ground floor VIP lobby to wait.
When the woman comes with her seemingly put-upon military personnel, Fadel stares at her looking completely unimpressed. She is dressed in a business formal sleeveless dress. Her blonde hair is tied up in an intricate braided bun with not one hair out of place and she has expensive, delicate earrings hanging from her lobes. She looks to be around Elif’s age, but much more uptight. But despite that and her refusal to leave, she shows enough manners as she curtsies to Kemal and then to Leyla. She only nods respectfully at Lara before curtsying even lower for Fadel.
“Mr. Kasemsan,” she says in English, her voice soft and pleasant enough, Kemal supposes, “It's nice to meet you–”
“Not interested,” Fadel says back in her mother tongue, “You saw me. That's what you wanted, right? Here I am. You told my family’s security you wouldn’t leave until I was in front of you and used the presence of royal-adjacent guards to stand on that. You got your wish, so now you can go. Bye.”
Very…blunt. But so was Fadel as a child. Kemal isn't that surprised.
But the woman seems to be as she powers through.
“My name is Poppy–”
“And we will all make sure your name accompanies your picture on the guest blacklist bulletin board,” Fadel says, then bows slightly at her, “So thank you for informing me. Have a nice day–”
“I am offering you lunch!” Poppy cuts in more forcefully, “Companionship. Maybe something more. I live on a beautiful estate with horses. Do you go horseback riding?”
Fadel shockingly grins at her, “Do you think I have gone horseback riding in the last twenty years?”
Poppy looks flustered but powers through, “Well, I am offering you an opportunity now. My estate is massive. There are multiple manors and beautiful cottages. My family can arrange for a private flight to London and a limo the rest of the way so we can…unwind. Get to know each other–”
“And ride horses?” Fadel interrupts.
Poppy straightens her shoulders, “I have many horses, so yes. Raising and riding them is a passion of mine. And I have one horse in particular, a well-decorated English Thoroughbred. He has been awarded for his speed and agility in prominent races, and for his appearance. That being said, he strongly prefers male riders. Wellington is yours. I will send over the papers immediately.”
“You're going to stress out this poor horse with an overseas trip?” Fadel asks, “That seems incredibly weird, not to mention inconsiderate of Wellington’s comfort levels.
“I don't think you know who you are talking to!”
“I'm talking to someone who I am rejecting blatantly and can't take a hint.”
“We played together as children!”
“Once,” Fadel says, “According to you. And I don't recall it. Go find someone who does make a point of prioritizing you, because I definitely won't. I mean it. You deserve better. Go.”
With that, Fadel turns to her assigned personnel, “Is that okay? She said she wouldn't leave until she saw me. That's done. And I turned her down.”
“Um…” one of the royal military personnel says as he glances at Poppy tentatively.
“I can get a hold of the king,” Kemal says suddenly, “We aren't friends by any means, but I imagine he will reach out soon due to the statement we put out. If not, it still won't take too long for me to contact him personally. He knew Sirin, Fadel’s mother. And he knows me. He certainly knows me better than this lovely young woman knows my grandson. You work at his cousin’s property, am I right?”
“Yes, Khun Kemal,” a few of them say. Good.
Regardless, Kemal continues to his point, “Then you should know that he outranks his relatives. And right now, considering the history, I doubt he wants us having any grief or trouble. So I suggest you all take your leave.”
They file out pretty quickly after that. The only one dragging her feet is Poppy. As for Fadel, he clearly has no interest in her propositions, horse or no horse.
As Long as I Can Travel this World with You: Chapter 21 Preview
Well…This is more alarming and unexpected than Style anticipated. And the news feels more official with an interpreter giving it to him. Style doesn't know why, but it does.
“Just last night, Sözcü TV and NOW TV aired breaking, late night investigative pieces on the interest surrounding the incident at Sing Sing,” the interpreter relays in Thai as this Azra Koc guy breaks the news in Turkish, “Both networks claimed these stories were prompted by the emails flooding the news stations about the incident and Khun Fadel’s identity. Both pieces used facial recognition software to compare stills from the footage of Sing Sing, and photos from Khun Fadel before he was taken. The reporters relaying the news did give disclaimers. They made sure to note that comparing an adult male face in club lighting to a twelve year old boy would not be a perfect comparison, and that prior positive matches with a similar amount of time passing typically result in a sixty to seventy-five percent positive match. Anything exceeding seventy-five percent when it comes to comparing an adult to a missing child is almost always considered a true positive. The results that the investigative reports gave were between eighty-two and eighty-six percent.”
Style glances over at Fadel and can't get a good read on how he feels about that. At all. So he just holds his hand beneath the table and waits.
“So I am guessing having more mainstream, reputable sources engage in the gossip is fueling public discourse,” Kemal says, his tone steady and down to business.
“That is putting it mildly,” the interpreter says, translating what Azra is saying, “All of the resorts in Turkey have crowds outside, the Sovereign especially. Citizens and resort guests are seeking out management for answers they don't even have. Plane ticket purchases to Bangkok have skyrocketed–from Turkey, but also from other countries. We expect these purchases are from news crews, influencers, international citizens who are very loyal to Demiral properties and take interest in family gossip, notable Turkish families you are acquaintances with, and…mobs of Turkish and international women in the 25 to 40 year old age bracket who are single.”
Style can't help but let out a sound of annoyance. He gets it. He truly does. Fadel is HOT, and he can't blame a solid percentage of the global population trying to shoot their shot. But at the same time, there is no shot to shoot. Fadel identifies as gay, and more importantly? He identifies as STYLE'S. Style is marrying him, even if Fadel gets sassy and claims Style will never ask him to. It's bullshit that they would even THINK of trying to steal his man–
“My canim is taken,” Leyla snaps, “He has a loving partner. You send those women home.”
Style nods in agreement, “What she said!”
“Style,” Fadel sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose until Selin puts a hand on his back.
“What is the conjecture how Bangkok will be now that this kind of report is in circulation?” Selin asks, “What do you think the timeline is on something like this escalating or dying down?”
“Well…the situation is unprecedented,” Azra starts, “It's hard to establish a timeline on how long the public will hold this level of curiosity when…this simply doesn't happen. But I do believe the longer we go without an official statement, the more likely people will start coming up with hurtful and damaging theories. A higher risk will be the public becoming more invasive by digging into private matters, stalking, or trespassing.”
Great. That's…fuck that. No one is stalking his man. Style won't allow it. Fadel will have five guards at all times and a bulletproof vest and Style telling people to get the FUCK away–
“I believe getting a statement out as soon as possible is the best call,” Azra finishes, “For safety and transparency reasons. I know you all were hoping that you would have some time to enjoy each other's company and feel more prepared, but I do think this will just gain momentum.”
“But so will news of my canim’s survival,” Leyla says, “It will make it hard for him to live a private life. We don't want that privilege ripped away from him, especially before he's ready.”
“Anneanne is right,” Elif says, “It might be too soon for him. We don't want to overwhelm him.”
“Elif,” Fadel says, “I am sitting right here.”
“I see that,” Elif says, “Hi, Fadel.”
“Hi.”
“Fadel obviously won't be the only one affected either,” Kemal says, “I don't mind if I get invasive questions thrown my way about this, and our extended family back in Turkey who have publicly known ties to us will be informed of what is going on. Security will be offered if they feel it is necessary. But my main concerns are focused on my grandson, Style, Bison, Keen, and my granddaughters.”
“I don't think Keen will be an issue,” Fadel says, “We barely spend time with him. Maybe once a month, if that.”
“He was still forced into a similar situation, Canim,” Leyla says, “He is still my beloved, adopted grandson.”
“Babaanne, you haven't even met him–”
“He's my grandson!” Leyla says more shrilly, “And I will meet him! Tomorrow!”
Fadel hums, but looks at Azra again and speaks in Turkish. Style tries to listen to the interpreter. He does. But Fadel speaking Turkish is sexy. Regardless, Style knows this meeting is important.
“I am more concerned for Bison,” Fadel says, “He has already been impacted by this. He's happy for me, and I think he feels very cared for and welcomed by my family, but he has been working really hard. He found a job he loves, one that is setting him up for med school. I don't want his career or personal life compromised. And I want Style protected. If even a fraction of what you are saying about…some women wanting to see me…if that's true, and I don't really think it is–”
“Sweetheart, it's intense,” Selin says tiredly, “I looked outside this morning, and it's just going to get worse.”
Fadel doesn't seem convinced, “Maybe Songkran will distract them.”
Style clicks his tongue, “Songkran always distracts me. It's a blast. We gotta go this year, baby.”
“I don't know if engaging in Songkran activities this year will be wise,” Kemal says, but holds his hands up, “I am aware you boys are adults, and you have every right to enjoy yourselves. But precautions would need to be taken, especially with everything going on.”
Fadel shrugs, “Celebrities attend Songkran. I doubt Style and I would stand out if we would go.”
“That sounds like something Melis would say,” Kemal says, “We will…discuss that later. Songkran is not a priority.”
The offended gasp Leyla lets out almost causes Style to laugh out loud, but he manages to hold it back.
“Kemal,” Leyla says harshly, “It was our first year as a couple. I talked about wanting to show you Thailand. You snuck me out of my father's home and whisked me off on a private plane. We met up with my old childhood friends, terrorized the streets with water guns and buckets, and you booked one of the best suites in The Mandarin Oriental, where we made use of the vast majority of flat surfaces in a very satisfying way.”
“Hell yeah, Babaanne!” Style says, giving her a high five.
“Style, please don't encourage her,” Selin says under her breath. But Style could swear that she sounds the slightest bit fond, so he doesn't take it personally.
“Don't be a prude, sweetheart,” Leyla says, “That sort of thing is genetic.”
Selin gives her mother a disbelieving look, “What are you talking about?”
“I am talking about stamina and drive,” Leyla tells her, “Taylan–bless my sweet boy’s soul–he inherited that from me. Before he met Sirin, he had the girls hooked left and right.”
Leyla glances between Elif and Fadel, “So if any of my grandchildren experience those types of urges, they know who they got it from. Their beautiful and vivacious grandmother…and their suave and handsome dede as well. It's one of the many reasons I picked him.”
When Leyla blows a kiss across the table towards her husband, Kemal raises his eyebrows at her but catches the kiss mid-air.
“Fadel,” Style whispers as he leans in, “I love her. Your babaanne is amazing.”
“You heard my aunt,” Fadel whispers back, “Don't encourage her.”
“I can't help it–”
“Well, back on topic,” Azra cuts in, “I believe a statement this weekend would be wise–or possibly during Songkran to strengthen the likelihood of it not being the biggest headline in Thailand. Internationally might be a different story, especially in Turkey and other areas where the Demiral brand is particularly significant. But releasing it when a major event is going on might soften the news here. Slightly. Maybe.”
“You don't sound sure of that,” Fadel says quietly.
“To be honest?” Azra says, meeting Fadel’s eyes, “I'm not sure. This is unprecedented. The public has already latched onto this story. It's trending in several different countries. The only thing I am sure of is that a statement will cause…a huge surge of interest. But in a scenario where a statement is significantly delayed, I see the existing interest festering into more malicious conspiracies about you and your family. I don't think those projections would be good for anyone. I believe April 14th would be the best day to make the announcement. On the one hand, it's a Monday. Sometimes the beginning of the week makes news stick harder, and it becomes a major conversation topic. But on the other hand, it's smack dab in the middle of local celebrations. It might provide some distraction. It also gives you all a few days to prepare.”
Style takes Fadel’s hand at that point, “I will tell Ben and Babe to make out more than usual. They can get their costars to do the same. People go nuts for that kind of fan service. We’ll get through this, baby. We will.”
And even though Fadel is bouncing his leg–thus much more anxious than he lets on–he raises his eyebrows at him in disbelief, “You think everyone will get that distracted by Ben and Babe making out at Songkran?”
“I think those two love you enough to try their very best to make it happen,” Style tells him.
“Style is right,” Leyla says, “GayTok is very popular. I'm surprised my canim hasn't been connected to the viral Style Auto video he starred in a few weeks ago! If they had connected him, those women would not only know my canim is taken, but that he is interested in men. I had a feeling, Canim. I did. Didn't surprise me one bit.”
Fadel seems dubious about that, but doesn't try to argue against the claim. Probably because he's gay.
“Throw that in the statement then,” Fadel says, causing multiple heads to turn, “Say I am in a committed relationship with a man so all of the women outside back off.”
Azra purses his lips, “I don't know if that is wise. For multiple reasons. For one, you live in a country where LGBTQ media is produced and consumed quite heavily, much more so than the rest of the world. If you lived elsewhere…maybe we could explore that route. But I think many women–at least local women–would continue to obsess, although maybe in a slightly different manner. And even if they didn't, I could see male citizens taking it as an invitation to enter the dating pool.”
“Fadel has no dating pool,” Style tells him, allowing the interpreter to translate, “You tell them it's in the midst of a permanent drought, and only one single raindrop exists in his metaphorical canyon. Me.”
“Style, you're a whole storm, and I do mean that respectfully and affectionately,” Kemal says, “That being said, I do agree with Azra. This statement is not the time to give excess information. While formally acknowledging who you are will happen, we are giving just enough information to remain transparent, as well as note the efforts that…Lilly made to make it so Fadel had no safe way to return to us. I also don't want to deal with more male…suitors. For lack of a better term. We have faced those with the girls. I'm not saying women aren't a threat. They absolutely can be, and Lilly is a prime example of that, despite her motives being different. But the men tend to be more forceful and entitled.”
“I will NOT have any gross men try to force themselves in my canim’s space,” Leyla says firmly, “We will protect him just as we protect the girls.”
“We will do our best to enforce strict boundaries, Anne,” Selin says to her.
Azra clears his throat, “While we want to maintain a level of transparency to lower obsessive interest, we don't want to reveal too much and give the public multiple focal points to potentially harass. Naming a significant other probably won't deter the public at this point in time. It will just widen the microscope to include you. We don't even plan on mentioning Bison or Keen with this first statement, despite them facing similar circumstances. We have a separate meeting with them tomorrow morning before the larger lunch meeting with your employees. If they want to get their stories out there, they will have this family’s full support and assistance. The same goes if they want to pursue their parents’ assets and seek acknowledgement and compensation for what they went through.”
Fadel breathes out and looks at everyone at the table, “I'm not doing the legal stuff. I have my name back. I don't have to sign documents with the name Lilly arranged for me anymore. It's fine.”
“...We do not need to make any immediate decisions in that regard now,” Kemal says after a beat, “But we will keep the option open. You told me last night about restitution packages that were drawn up to keep the matter quiet, and that yours was written with wording to try and prevent third parties suing on your behalf or for any collective trauma or collateral damage. That tells me they know you, Bison, Keen, and anyone directly affected by what happened have real legal standing regarding how it was handled.”
“There is also the boy that they labeled as you,” Selin says quietly, “It seems that he died from an illness. Not from being…burned alive, not like the first report we got listed. But they desecrated his body. Lilly most likely took a dying or already dead boy from an orphanage, someone who could quickly be erased from the system. She had the body burned until it was unrecognizable and got medical and government officials to list that it was yours. That boy deserves closure.”
“We have already arranged for him to be buried near our family if his family can't be identified,” Leyla says, “But even if we can't identify a name, he will not be alone, and we will make sure he has justice so he can rest peacefully.”
Selin nods and looks at Fadel, “It was more than just Lilly who hurt you, sweetheart. She had help. And she and those other people hurt us too. We won't make an immediate move. We are focused on you and your well-being. That is our number one concern. But what happened to you, Bison, and Keen was unacceptable. It was abuse and neglect on a large, legal scale. That needs to be addressed. We are also concerned that children and families with less resources could face similar trauma if any of the people Lilly bribed, blackmailed, or corrupted still have positions of power–”
“I don't care,” Fadel says. It's a lie. Even if Fadel doesn't consciously realize he is lying, Style knows it is still a lie because Fadel looked sick to his stomach when he found out about that kid. He looks sick now, probably enough that his family understands they are toeing a thin line.
“We aren't focused on them right now, Abim,” Elif says, “Like Anne said, we are focused on you, making sure you stay safe, and that your boundaries are respected. Don't think about the other stuff today. Just the statement preparation, talking to Baba and some other family, and interviewing some therapists to see if you like any of them. That's all you need to do today. Everything else can wait.”
Style reaches over to stroke Fadel’s back, “The other stuff can be handled by lawyers anyway. Nont got them to extend the deadline to sign on those packages so he could re-negotiate them. Elif is right. Focus on the statement, talking to some uncles, aunts, and cousins, and therapy stuff. Then, you're free and we’ll have an easy night.”
But Fadel shakes his head, “Melis just sent out a required meeting to happen at 7:30.”
Style feels confused, then checks the app for the notification.
HIGH PRIORITY
DEMIRAL/DEMIRAL ADJACENT FAMILY YOGA AND POWERPOINT PRESENTATION
7:30 pm - 8:45 pm
Required Attire/Items:
Comfortable clothes that allow stretching and movement
Required Attendees:
Melis Demiral
Elif Demiral
Lara Demiral
Fadel Kasemsan
Kemal Demiral
Leyla Demiral
Selin Demiral
Style Chayakorn
Bison Phanlert
Kant Pattanawat
Babe Pattanawat
Ben Halvari
Jay Chayakorn
Nya Sinclair
Style squints at the list, “When did Nya get a Demiral family account?”
“I'm asking in the comments,” Elif says, only for everyone’s apps to ping.
Elif: What is this for, and who made Nya an account?
Melis: It's for an important matter, and I made her account! It's a level 2, so relax.
Kemal: You are still supposed to get majority approval, Melis.
Melis: Nya and I use almost all of the same night routine products! And on top of that, we shared a dream last night. So clearly, she is part of our soul circle! I need her for the powerpoint presentation because she is calming and supportive!
Nya: 🩷💙💜🩷💙💜💞
Melis: 🤟🏻🤟🏻🤟🏻🤟🏻🩷🤍🧡🥹
Leyla: Let Nya keep her account for now. She needs friends her own age. She is married to a grumpy, old gay man quickly approaching death.
Nya: All of that is correct! Thank you, Khun Leyla! ♥️♥️♥️
Leyla: You're welcome, sweetheart.
Selin: May I ask what this powerpoint is about?
Melis: Important socio-developmental matters that should be promptly experienced by family and family adjacent members who are ages 22 to 40.
Kemal: Then why are you inviting family members who are no longer in that age bracket?
Melis: Because I know the old people will have something to SAY.
Melis: And because I love you guys ♥️♥️♥️
Nya: She loves you guys so much 🥰
Lara: You should invite Mond.
Melis: …Why?
Lara: Because he's Ben’s cousin. And I am asking you to.
Lara has added a required guest to the family meeting:
Mond Amarin (app invite pending)
Ben: I bet he will come if he isn't busy at the patisserie! He got an early start today despite going to bed late, so he should be good! I love my hia! Thank you for inviting him! 🥰
Style: Yeah! Mond is my bro!
Melis: Why did you make him an account without family approval???
Melis: Wait
Melis: Lara
Melis: Do you finally have a crush?
Lara: Yeah, sure. 🙂
Style lets out a gasp and looks up from his phone, “Fadel! There is love in the air! Lara and Mond might become a thing!”
Fadel just narrows his eyes at his phone and says nothing. Despite being separated from his cousins for two decades, he's still protective. Elif must feel protective over Lara too, since she lets out a disgruntled sound. So grumpy, the both of them! It must be a Capricorn thing. But Style loves Capricorns. He really does. The love of his life is a Capricorn. And Mond! Mond is a Capricorn! His bro! And if Lara puts on the moves, he'll be family. They’ll probably be groomsmen in each other's weddings!
Melis: Wait, are you serious?
Lara: Why would I lie about something like that?
Melis: Because you exchanged like six words max with him last night.
Lara: Sometimes that's all you need.
“Who is this boy?” Selin asks curiously.
“He's my bro,” Style tells her, “Ben’s cousin too, but more importantly? My bro. He owns Patisserie de Siam. And let me just say, Lara has great taste.”
“Kemal, he's gorgeous,” Leyla says approvingly, “I met him last night. And he can cook. We must support this relationship.”
“How old is he?” Selin asks, and Style doesn't miss the way she glances at Elif. Interesting. But he will let her know that a four year age gap is not a huge deal–
“He's 29,” Elif says, then blinks when a few heads turn in her direction, “...Melis did all of our astrology charts last night and put them on a table in birth order. That's the only reason I know.”
“That does sound like her,” Leyla says.
Ben: YOU LIKE MY COUSIN?!?! 🥰😍😍😍🫢
Lara: I said sure.
Ben: That's so cute! I love love! I'll put in a good word, but I won't say anything to him. Not unless you want me to. ♥️
Lara: Thanks. I guess.
Elif: Lara, you literally told me a few weeks ago you would rather slit your own throat than go on a date.
Lara: I would. Small talk is such a bore 🥱
Elif: So why are you doing this?
Lara: Oh, you know.
Lara has edited Required Attire/Items List
+ 1 mango mousse cake and 1 large raspberry macaron for Lara (applies to Mond only, must be hand delivered in a box)
Melis: Your courting tactics are interesting. Why don't you text him instead? I can give you his number. Tell him you really appreciated meeting him, that he was nice to be around, and that you liked his pastries!
Nya: That's really good advice, Mel 🙂
Melis: Thank you!!! See? I give good advice! I'll send you his number and you text him that.
Lara: No thanks
Melis: Lara, you have to do more than send him an app invite through social media and a pastry delivery demand.
Lara: I really don't.
Melis: You DO. Because now I am invested, despite how weird you are. I will reach out to Mond to make sure he knows he is to attend. And I am teaching you to flirt. TODAY. You already have the looks. You just need the right lines, level of affection, and tone of voice! So you will know how to conduct yourself at the family meeting. Since WE weren't invited to the required meeting this morning, we have all day to practice!
Nya: Can I stay to help?
Melis: Of course you can! I wanted you here to help prepare for the meeting anyway, AND for some much needed spa time. You are part of my soul circle!
Nya: Yay! 😄
“So are we all in agreement to release the statement on Monday?” Azra asks, pulling everyone from their phones.
“Hm,” Kemal hums, but looks at his grandson, “Fadel?”
Fadel breathes out, then puts his phone on the table face down, “...Okay.”
Kemal nods, looking just the slightest bit teary, “Monday then. Let's take fifteen minutes. Stretch our legs, decompress, then come back for a couple calls. Unless you want to keep any conversations going, we will make sure they know the calls will be kept short.”
“I’ll text Baba so he knows we will be logging on soon,” Elif says, sounding slightly annoyed as she stands up. Style supposes that's understandable, if her father cheated on her mother.
But even as everyone double checks with Fadel before they take fifteen, Fadel doesn't move, and Style stays right next to him.
“You okay?” Style asks, reaching up to stroke his hair. Fadel just shrugs before looking over at him.
“You don't have to stay.”
Style tilts his head, “I want to.”
“You really don't have to,” Fadel says before letting out a sigh, “I don't know how every family member I am talking to is going to react to me coming back after so long. I don't want you to feel like you have to protect me or defend me–”
“I always feel like that!” Style says, “That's my job, Fadel! You're my partner!”
“I'm aware,” Fadel says, sounding suspiciously calm, “Because it's my job too. And while my more immediate family has been very accepting, I don't know how the others will be. Melis said Uncle Arman didn't love it when she came out to him, and I guess when his…his other daughter came out as trans, he didn't love it either. He didn't disown them, but he wasn't waving a pride flag when he was told.”
“Well, did anyone give him one beforehand?” Style asks, “Probably not! It might have just been about not having the appropriate props.”
Fadel huffs out a soft laugh at that, but then pulls Style in for a gentle kiss, “I love you.”
“I love you more,” Style says, “Which is why I want to be here for you!”
“I appreciate it,” Fadel says, “And I would normally say yes. But…if anyone even looks at you wrong, I might tell them off. I would rather just tell them you exist, answer any questions they may have about you, and deal with any potential awkwardness or homophobia without you having to sit there for it.”
“But I love homophobic people,” Style says softly, “They make me laugh. I’ve told you this.”
The corner of Fadel’s mouth quirks up, so Style kisses it and waits for Fadel to change his mind.
“Let's hope none of them are homophobic,” Fadel says, “Go enjoy your day. Get some work done while you still can. You can probably sneak out without anyone spotting you.”
…Work is tempting too. And so is getting a better look at what is supposedly going on outside. But still, he wishes Fadel would let him stay.
“You’ll tell them how handsome I am?”
Fadel seems slightly amused by the very serious request, “Sure, Style. If Babaanne doesn't beat me to it first.”
“She's spicy!” Style says before glancing around, “You must get that from her. Genetically.”
And while Fadel doesn't seem to love that idea, he doesn't deny it either.
I do want people to know that I am working on the new chapter of As Long as I Can Travel this World with You. I have close to 11,000 words. My writing has just been so stagnant recently, and it's been harder for me to write in binges. But I am making some strides now and hope that it keeps up so I can get the chapters out in a more timely manner.
I'm sorry updates have been so slow. My motivation for writing has been iffy recently, I just got over a cold, plus I had work trips and summer progress notes to write. I hope to get the new chapter of As Long as I Can Travel this World with You out in the next couple of days!
Chapter Summary: The expungement proves to be finalized more quickly than expected, and with it comes generous offers and concerning clauses. A found family dinner ends up attracting a young man with his gaze set on one member in particular. Style finds himself fighting to keep his secret a secret as Fadel directs his attention (and stress) towards a wedding invitation. Selin meets with Captain Christ.
As Long as I Can Travel this World with You: Chapter 19 Preview
Style didn't think he was going to work today, but here he is.
He's been productive already. He called Nont on the way to the Rolls-Royce dealership, informed him of the situation, and asked him about his advice in regards to employees seeing clips from last night with a good chance they may start making connections. Nont agreed that a non-disclosure agreement was a great idea for not only them, but for Style’s employees as well. He said he had templates for documents like this and would edit one to pertain to their situation. When Style asked if it was offensive to demand their employees keep their mouths shut, Nont just said it was smart since it would cover them once Fadel and his family do make a statement–and it would not be framed like that anyway. They could use partial transparency to their advantage, and Nont could lead the meeting in order to create understanding, compassion, and agreement in the attendees, versus offense or suspicion.
So Style called Nont sexy again, then hung up and got to work. He has his best boys attending to the plans he drew up for Nya’s car. Two employees who Pa had hired over a decade ago, one protege who he hired in back in early 2026 because Knot was and continues to be a close friend of Babe’s and just had a baby at the time, and one employee he stole from his rival last year. It had been so easy. The loyalty was clearly flimsy there. Maybe Nont is making a solid point about having the employees of Style Auto sign non-disclosure agreements. But to be fair, Style pays better than any of his colleagues.
“You guys are doing good,” Style says after he looks at all the progress, “I'm sorry I haven't been here.”
“Your plans were extremely detailed and descriptive,” Knot says, “Everything has been set up exactly as you told us. This isn't the hardest project we have done.”
“Just incredibly specific,” Benz says, “But Nya seems to be pleased. She stopped by the other day. We made sure to let her know the finished product will scream…sexy leprechaun.”
“Whatever the client wants, the client gets,” Style says with a grin, then gets to work. He never really enters a full flow state. He has set his watch to prompt him every 20 minutes to check in with Pa. Pa does tell him to chill after the first eight check-ins.
Pa: I will let you know if I see anything truly suspicious. But Fadel seems to be doing better. He's cooking away in the back. The couple of breaks he took were to serve customers personally and check in with me. So I think he is seeking connection, or at least distraction. How is everything?
Style: Everything is good here! My boys know their stuff 🚘🔧💪🏼 So my precious baby sugar princess is doing better? You think we can head back to the resort after he gets off work and he can move past the incident from this morning? His family really is concerned. They keep texting.
Pa: He has not said either way.
Pa: Is he going to go back to therapy? I really think he should have that, especially right now. He liked it. He told me when I helped him find someone after he first got out.
Style: I don't know. I brought it up to him yesterday. He sort of took it as an insult, despite liking it.
Pa: I will try to talk to him about it once he is more like himself.
Style: Thanks. I appreciate it. His family wants that for him too. They said they would find him options. They also said they were looking for themselves to lead by example. And because they probably need it. I am sure this is a lot for them emotionally too, even though they are ecstatic he's in their lives.
Pa: It's complicated for every one of them. For you and Bison too. Bison has a therapist. Maybe you should find one.
Style: I am completely fine, thanks 💅🏼
Pa: You like to talk. A lot. You’ll do great.
Style: I would annoy the shit out of a therapist 😂
Pa: Probably, but you enjoy doing that to people.
Pa: Stop texting me every 20 minutes. I am trying to watch a show while I loiter at your boyfriend's restaurant and you keep interrupting the good parts.
Style: Fine. I will bump it to 30.
Pa: an hour
Style: 45 minutes! That's all I’m upping it.
Pa: I accept. Goodbye.
So Style sticks to that plan. He works his ass off, checks in every forty-five minutes, and wraps up around 6 pm. He heads back into the office the dealership provided to update the progress notes, gets his stuff together, only for the door to open and the general manager to walk in. Kittipong Vejvongse. Kit for short. Style met him on the tour, and a couple of times since. Nice enough, he supposes. Definitely important enough, and Style could tell Kit was very aware of that.
“You haven't been around the last few days.”
Style nods in acknowledgement and focuses on packing his bag, “I left detailed plans and notes for my boys. They know how to keep things moving. I have some family stuff going on that requires my attention, but I have been keeping a close eye, even from a distance.”
Kit nods and closes the door behind him, “They're good workers. Highly competent. That speaks well on your behalf. So do your plans. The level of creativity and detail puts the notes from my team to shame.”
Style grins at that, “Glad you think so! Nya is an old friend and repeat client. She is specific about what she wants. Makes it a little easier. It was nice seeing you again. Thanks for letting us use this office and your facilities-”
“I wanted to offer an opportunity.”
“Oh yeah?” Style asks, intrigued, before wincing slightly, “It…If it has any urgency or requires a significant amount of time, I might need to pass. Like I said, I currently have a lot going on that needs my attention and care. But I can maybe set up a team or refer you to someone-”
“It won't take too much of your time,” Kit interrupts, stepping a little bit closer, “Just your…participation. The passion I have witnessed from you.”
Style tilts his head, “Can you be more specific? It's been a long day, man.”
Style probably shouldn't have asked that question, although Kit does make himself clear when he reaches over to cup Style’s cheek. Style stays mature and professional about it. He truly does. An indignant and–admittedly–truly humored shriek is both of those things.
“Oh, come on!” Style says, laughing, “You didn't expect me to melt at that or drop to my knees to suck your dick!”
Kit blinks, as if this reaction wasn't in the roster of possibilities he went through in his mind, “You do realize how much influence I have with other dealerships. Some of which you have worked for in the past as an independent contractor-”
“Cool story, bro.”
“I can give you more opportunities,” Kit continues as his gaze darkens, truly powering through, which Style really respects, “Or I can make them harder to come by.”
Wow! It's been a while since he has been threatened like this! He feels flattered. He thought he might be losing his magnetic spark in the eyes of predatory gay men. Too past twinkhood for their liking, too muscular and sexy, rather than cute and doe-eyed. He can't wait to tell Fadel.
…He probably shouldn't. Fadel would hate it, even on a day without stress and trauma regression. He has more than enough going on.
“Do you understand?”
Style nods thoughtfully, “I understand. But I have a question. Do you have enough influence with the racing community? I build cars for some of Thailand’s top drivers. If you need their numbers, I will send them to you. What about the entertainment industry? I have let GMMTV use my garages as film sets, customized multiple vehicles for various dramas, and for the actors who want to upgrade their ride. How about international aristocrats, nobles, and politicians? I am just wondering if you will need some help canceling me in the eyes of circles you don't have as much of a hand in. Here. Let's sit down. We’ll call them together-”
“I am the general manager and an equity holder of Rolls-Royce. You should consider yourself lucky-”
“I am taken,” Style tells him more bluntly, “I have been with the same man for over seven years. And he is hot. Believe me, you are not on my wish list this Christmas. Speaking of, that's my man’s birthday! Isn't that cool? I bet your birthday is at least fifteen years before his.”
Kit started posturing aggressively halfway through Style’s response. He seems to think Style cares? Whatever. Style can take a punch. He isn't going to hit him back. That's the last thing that Demirals need, to clean up the mess of another fist fight less than twenty-four hours after last night. So Style just sighs and presents his right cheek.
“Can you punch me here?” he asks, tapping his cheek, “I like my left side better.”
Kit blinks and grips onto Style's collar, “What is wrong with you?”
Style snorts at the question, “No idea. Many things, possibly? Maybe I should see a therapist. Do you have any recommendations for one? Probably not, right? If you did, you would have worked through this power trip addiction. Forget me sending you all my contacts. Let's sit down and find YOU a therapist. A good one. You’ve got this-”
“Why are your hands on my independent contractor?”
Style peeks over Kit’s shoulder and sees Nya standing in the doorway–in all her young, lavender trophy wife girl boss glory–and gives her a wave, “Don't mind us. Just a little harassment in the workplace! Did you know how much he wanted me? So much that he doesn't even care that I have a boyfriend! He's AMBITIOUS-”
“Style,” Nya says, then stomps over. Kit immediately lets his hand fall to his side as she stares him down despite her petite form.
“If you ever touch him, look at him wrong, make any of his team uncomfortable, or jeopardize his reputation and business dealings, you will become absolutely no one. Do you understand me?”
Kit can barely look at her as he clears his throat and nods before glancing at Style.
“Keep up the impressive work.”
“Thanks!” Style calls out as he quickly leaves the office, “See you next time! Nya, can you believe that guy? So funny-”
“Are you okay?” she cuts in, “Are you hurt?”
Style tsks, “You know who you're talking to? Style Chayakorn, that's who! Automotive engineering expert, and YOUR ex-babysitter! Don't worry about me! I had him under control-”
“That doesn't matter,” Nya tells him, “It wasn't okay. If it happens again, tell me. Don’t minimize it like you are doing now. So you tell me. He'll disappear.”
“...Very mafia of you,” Style says, then narrows his eyes suspiciously, “Are you mafia?”
“No, Style,” Nya says, “I just have a lot of influence and money. Speaking of, I saw the videos from Sing Sing last night. How are the girls? How are Fadel and Bison?”
Style sighs and glances around, “Can we leave here first? I was about to head to the restaurant. I can call you once I am in my car-”
“I had my assistant drop me off to tend to some errands,” Nya says, leading the way out, “I’ll ride with you to the restaurant! I love that food! Maybe we can hang out tonight? I've been bored. I want friends.”
“Uh…” Style starts as they walk together, “Yes on the ride to the restaurant. I don't know about hanging out. Things are a bit weird right now. People are talking about Fadel’s family-”
“Style, I'm not going to say shit to anyone.”
“I know you won't,” Style says, and he honestly means that, “We are just…we are staying at the Majestic. They gave us a VIP suite on their family floor. Same goes for my pa, Bison and Kant, even Ben and Babe. Fadel is…adjusting. Loves having his family back deeply but he has been emotional. A meeting this morning turned a bit…he had a hard time understanding their intentions because of his trauma. I'm hoping he is in a better headspace and ready to talk with them.”
Nya pouts at the words, “I hope Fadel is okay. Maybe if he has more friends, he will feel better. I can stay with Kant and Bison while you guys talk to his family. Or Ben and Babe. Or Uncle Jay!”
“We’ll see,” Style tells her, then gets in the car. After Nya sits in the front passenger seat and Style pulls out of the parking area, she turns to him and changes the subject.
“I think you should tell Fadel what happened with Kit.”
Style scoffs at the idea and glances over at her, “That was wild, right? Guess I'm hard to resist-”
“I feel like you are using humor to cope with sexual harassment, which isn't funny,” she says, which sounds smart. Politically correct, even. But still…
“The victim is allowed to laugh,” Style informs her, “It is just truly hilarious that he would even try such a thing!”
“What if Fadel was hired by Gordon Ramsay for a project and Gordon Ramsay targeted him like that-”
“Then Gordon Ramsay would be DEAD!!!” Style snaps before shrugging flippantly, “If Fadel didn't chop his dick off first. He very well might. If not him, then Bison would do it on his behalf. By the time I got there to have my turn, Gordon would already be buried. RIP.”
Nya shakes her head and looks out the window, “You are very strange.”
Style actually thinks he is quite normal. But he lets Nya have her opinion, focuses on the road, and tells her Fadel has too much on his plate to get pissed off over silly Kit.
What are you most looking forward to in Chapter 19 of As Long as I Can Travel this World with You?
The morning meeting that leads to Fadel regressing/leaving
Fadel's employees starting to catch onto clues
Nya, Melis, and Ben having someone in common
Fadel becoming vulnerable as he realizes how much his grief affects him
Fadel continuing to be an edible lightweight, but with different effects
Fadel having a stoned heart to heart with his cousins
Fadel being so talkative that Style feels like the quiet one
As Long as I Can Travel this World with You: Chapter 6 Preview
Read Chapters 1-5 here:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/63338335
Fadel is aware they have only been back for two days. On top of that, Style did disclose that he recently accepted a high paying project. Fadel should have been more prepared for Style to dive right into that. He should have known that he would. Changing Style’s workaholic ways was never going to be some overnight success just because he agreed to slow down at the race track and try to find a suitable replacement. If he even does that.
“You're pouting,” Bison says from across the table, picking a fry off their shared plate.
“I'm not,” Fadel lies.
Bison sighs, but reaches over to pat Fadel’s hand, “Tell me more about your trip! You guys seemed like you had a great time from the pictures you both posted. You came back overly affectionate and made out the entire time Kant and I drove you home because you're both assholes. You barely answered any of our questions then, so I want to hear all about it now. What did you do? Break it down day by day.”
“Uh…” Fadel starts, “We got in late on Thursday. Just got a late dinner. On Friday-”
“Style serenaded you, made you cry, and you both went viral?” Bison asks with a grin.
Fadel scoffs at that, “I didn't cry.”
“You did.”
“Did not.”
“I saw tears, Fadel!” Bison claims, “You might not have let them fall, but they were shining in your eyes! You're so emotional and sensitive now. It's sweet.”
“...I'm not,” Fadel says with a scowl, then looks back down at his food, “I'm not telling you any more about the trip.”
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” Bison says quickly, “You weren’t crying. You were completely stoic. Tell me more.”
Fadel studies him for a moment, then silently accepts his brother’s apology, “We went to breakfast at The Parisian, then went to The Grand Prix Museum. I figured Style would like that.”
“Did he try to serenade you there too?” Bison asks with a grin.
“No,” Fadel says, “Mainly because I stopped him. People kept stopping and pointing at us, so I think it was feeding his ego and impulsivity. He didn't get to put on a last second show for their benefit.”
“Aw,” Bison says, “It would have been for your benefit, Fadel! No one else’s. What else did you do?”
“That first full day, we mainly went and explored different resorts, shopped, and gambled some before going to an acrobat show,” Fadel says, then meets Bison’s gaze, “I'm better at it than Style is. I won a lot more.”
“Oh yeah?” Bison asks, sounding intrigued, “How much did you win?”
“Fifty-five thousand Macanese Patacas over the course of the trip” Fadel says, then takes another fry as Bison pulls out his phone, “I offered to give it to Style. So he could slow down. Take a break.”
“Pretty sure he doesn't need the money, man,” Bison says with a snort before his eyes widen, “But shit! That's a lot! Almost 230,000 baht! How much were you betting?! Which games?!”
“Baccarat and Poker when I got the chance,” Fadel says, “We didn't gamble much. We were too busy doing other things. I was careful. I didn't bet too big and mainly stuck with betting on the house, but it ended up working out and I got lucky on a few slots too. One of them doubled what I earned playing the other games. I won that Monday morning. I woke up really early and…Even though Style told me he wasn't taking a break, I thought…If I won over what I suggested, he might…I don't know.”
Bison stays quiet as Fadel rests his head in his hands before reaching over to touch his arm.
“So you talked to him about this?”
Fadel nods, “The night before I doubled my earnings. I asked him if I managed to make 50,000 Macanese Patacas in profit, if he could take a couple of months off. We have a lot in our savings. He wouldn't even need it. We have enough to take time off. But if it helped him feel better, I would give it to him. He said no.”
“I’m sure he explained a little better than that,” Bison says gently.
He did. Technically. But it doesn't feel like it matters at the moment, not when Style is working late for the second night in a row. So Fadel just shrugs and doesn't explain what Style’s reasoning was at all.
“He wants to save up for a lot of stuff,” Bison says, “That house he's designed in his head, for one. And he wants to have money to invest in more restaurants you might open-”
“I have potential investors reaching out about secondary locations,” Fadel cuts in.
“Right, but you mentioned once you might want to design and open another restaurant with a different menu and theme,” Bison says, “I remember! You mentioned a brunch cafe with healthy, locally sourced ingredients and a blend of Middle Eastern and Mediterranean dishes-”
“I said that because I would be able to work the breakfast and lunch shift, then go home early,” Fadel says stubbornly, “I was hoping it would make Style say he would change his hours too.”
“Damn,” Bison says, chuckling, “Opening an entire restaurant and coming up with a new menu and schedule all to get your man home at a decent hour. You really love him.”
“Yeah,” Fadel murmurs, “I love him. I just wish he loved me.”
“Fadel,” Bison says, his voice becoming stern, “You’re being awfully dramatic for only having one beer. He does love you. Okay? He loves you so much it's sickening. Every time I hang out with him, he doesn't shut up about you. We have to talk about you the entire time. And you know how he is. His demeanor can be contagious, and then I find myself gushing about you with him. Do you know how gross that is for me? But it happens almost every time, us cooing over how cute you are-”
“Do you think he's a workaholic?” Fadel cuts in, picking up his phone again.
“Duh,” Bison says, only for Fadel to shake his head.
“I mean clinically,” Fadel says, searching on his phone, “It says here there is a high correlation between ADHD and workaholism due to impulsivity - which can lead to the inability to say no. Hyperfocusing behaviors also play heavily into that kind of addiction, and we know Style hyperfocuses. He gets so sucked into enjoyable projects that he loses track of time. And this also mentions that people with ADHD can perceive themselves as inadequate and compensate for those feelings by overworking. See?”
“Oh, boy,” Bison says with a sigh, glancing at the phone, “You're researching and diagnosing.”
Fadel takes the phone out of his hands, “Because I'm trying to understand him to avoid getting upset with him.”
“Okay,” Bison says before shrugging his shoulders, “But I can't see Style viewing himself as inadequate. He's way too confident and sassy.”
That's true. But Style does have his moments.
“He did say he would never be as handsome as me when we were at Guia Hill,” Fadel says quietly, “Which isn't true.”
“You're both equally handsome, I agree,” Bison says before quickly moving on, “But Guia Hill is where you saw the ghost, right? That's what Style said in the group chat. Full bodied apparition of guard, giggling in one of the forbidden tunnels, that's amazing! Can we talk about that instead?”
“No,” Fadel says before Ria comes over and asks if they need anything. She doesn't particularly have to wait on them. Fadel has told his wait staff multiple times that he can go and get his and his guests’ own refills and food, even if they're swamped. But Ria is pretty new. She's only been working here a few months. On top of that, she's young. She's been in and out of juvie, aged out of the foster system, and is seven months pregnant. He's pretty sure she is overcompensating in order to prove her worth, even though he has told her to chill out multiple times.
“Ai, Ria,” Bison says, straightening up as she comes over and fills their water, “You don't need to wait on us. Take a break.”
“I'm alright, P’Bison!” Ria says cheerfully, but then puts the pitcher down, “Khun Fadel-”
“You do not have to call me that,” Fadel says to her, only for her to dismiss it.
“Khun Fadel, P’Phon taught me more sign in the kitchen!” she says excitedly, then picks up her hands,”Hello! Nice to meet you. Table 3 wants one cheeseburger, one chicken dinner, and two side garden salads.”
“Ah,” Fadel says, giving her a smile and a nod, “That's really good. It will help when talking with P’Phon and Ai’Klao.”
“I also have an app to learn more at home,” Ria says, then picks up their fries, “I’ll get you more.”
Fadel clears his throat, “Ria, that's alright-”
But Ria is already on her way to the kitchen. Bison watches her for a moment before looking at Fadel again.
“Did you threaten to fire her or something?”
“Of course not,” Fadel says, “I told her I would make sure she gets six months of fully paid maternity leave if she wanted to take time to relax soon and she cried. I thought it was out of gratitude and then she asked me if she was doing a bad job and if I wanted her out of the way.”
Bison snorts at that, “What did she do again? She seems too sweet to be an ex-felon.”
Fadel glances around, then pulls out his phone again.
Fadel: Technically not a felon. All her stuff is juvenile. But she was aware that more in depth background checks may pick up inconsistencies and decided to be honest with me about her history since she heard I hire reformed criminals.
Bison: So what did she do?
Fadel: She has run of the mill stuff like truancy charges from a few years ago, as well as a history of defiance against police officers. Her biggest offense is setting her foster father’s car on fire a few months before coming here. She spent a few weeks in jail and got out on a technicality.
Bison stares at him in disbelief before typing in his response.
Bison: How the fuck did she get out on a technicality for arson?!
Fadel breathes out, but goes ahead and types out the short story.
Fadel: A surprisingly great public defender who demanded a prenatal paternity test. Her foster father is the father of the baby and she was seventeen and in his care at the time. He immediately dropped the charges in hopes she would stay quiet and the lawyer convinced the courts to not press charges against her. Courts accepted, but didn't press charges on her behalf against her foster father. Style and I offered to give her the money to pursue a case against him. She said that she wanted to move on and focus on herself and the baby.
Bison: Can we kill him then?
Fadel: I wish. He deserves it.
Fadel: Don't tell her or anyone what I just told you.
Bison tsks out loud, “You know I won't.”
And while Bison doesn't say anything when Ria comes back with the fries, he does suggest no less than six times that she takes a break to eat something. Ria predictably declines and starts wiping down the two tables that are free.
“Aw,” Bison says, tilting his head, “I can't decide if she's a mini you or a mini Style. I guess both. You're going to be grandparents. That's cute.”
“Uh-huh,” Fadel says, then checks his phone. Still no text from Style saying he's on his way home. Despite still technically being in his workplace, he can't help but let out a groan and rest his head on the table.
“What’s wrong?” Ria says, coming over quickly, “Do you need medicine from the first aid kit? More water? Are the fries too cold-”
“The fries are hot,” Bison says, biting one and showing the steam coming out of it to make a point, “My brother is just sad. He may be your scary and intimidating boss-”
“He's the nicest boss I’ve ever had!” Ria says, sounding truthful about that despite her resume solely consisting of sporadic community service work.
“Weird,” Bison says, but then pats Fadel’s shoulder, “Your sweetheart boss is just missing his man.”
“But you just went on a trip together, Khun Fadel!” Ria says before she carefully lowers herself into the booth, “He’ll probably take you on another one soon. He's generous and sweet like that, and he loves you so much! That video where he sang to you on the gondola proved it! And he is always coming in here and loudly asking where the love of his life is, regardless of how many people are here.”
“There are usually a lot of people,” Bison says, looking around at the crowd, “I am so glad I worked here when we kept it dead on purpose. I would lose my mind working here now.”
Fadel lifts his head at that, “Didn't you tell me you performed three rounds of CPR for the last transport of your shift?”
“So much less stressful than customer service,” Bison says, “I’d rather clean up puddles of blood in the ambulance than another soda spill in a restaurant.”
That…actually isn't surprising. At all. But before Fadel can say as much, his phone pings.
Style: Sorry! Lost track of time and left my phone in my bag! 😩 I'm about to leave now. Love you ♥️
As Long as I Can Travel this World with You: Chapter 14 Preview
When Style walks into the office, he hears several different voices - along with Fadel’s - and they are all speaking in Turkish. How is he supposed to talk with them in a language he only knows some phrases in? Maybe that's why he freezes just a few steps into the room. He needs to stay calm so he can remember the phrases he does know.
Hello.
My name is Style.
Nice to meet you!
Where are you from?
Great day we’re having.
Is it raining?
Where is the bathroom?
I am in a relationship.
The coat is green.
Back off, sir!
What time is it?
Where is the train station?
I need help!
I need to study.
What time is breakfast/lunch/dinner?
I want to rent one room with a king sized bed.
Please.
Thank you.
Fuck
Shit
Pussy
Ass
Dick
Bitch
Plus all of the major colors, points of direction, and some phrases about studying and working. Then, there are some culturally specific phrases, ones so shocking, vulgar, and offensive that Style had to learn them. But he can't say “I’ll fuck your mother and wife” or “Shit on your glasses so you will see the world as a shit place” or “I’ll tear your ass.” He wouldn't even say those phrases to Fadel to shock him, and he loves shocking Fadel! He’ll just stick with “The coat is green” and hope for the best-
“Style.”
Style sucks in a gulp of air and sees Fadel turned in his seat. He looks so fucking hopeful it makes Style’s chest ache.
“Sorry,” Style says in a hushed voice, taking a few steps closer, “I came home at 4, but I had paint on me and wanted to shower, then started freaking out about what to wear until Pa picked this for me-”
“Why were you freaking out about what to wear?” Fadel asks, tilting his head with confusion, “You look good. Come here.”
“Is that Style?”
“Did he come home?”
“We want to see him!”
Suddenly, they are speaking in Thai. Perfect Thai, nonetheless, or at least that's what he hears from the people who are currently talking. Apparently, they want him to know that they want to see him in frame if they are code-switching for his benefit. Maybe he doesn't need to pull his phone out and translate everything they say or to translate what he wants to say in return. He's so stupid, now that he's thinking of it. Fadel’s grandmother is half Thai and grew up living in both Thailand and Turkey before choosing to attend college in Istanbul and marrying Fadel’s grandfather. Melis pretty much lives in Bangkok and her sisters visit a lot, as does their mother. But what if Fadel’s grandfather doesn't speak Thai well, despite doing business here? He doesn't want him to feel left out.
“Come on,” Fadel says, getting up to pull Style over, “Why are you acting shy? I told them how outgoing you are.”
Because he is meeting his boyfriend's very rich and influential family? Because he grew up relatively modestly and even though he is doing very well for himself now, his wealth doesn't touch what these people have. Why is Fadel judging him for being nervous when Fadel himself was just toying with the idea of cutting contact with all of them to avoid heavy emotions? That was just six hours ago!
Regardless, he doesn't say that. At all. Fadel’s family doesn't need to know about Fadel’s sudden and impulsive urge to sabotage his own happiness as well as theirs. It is an urge that has clearly passed. Style knows that by how happy he looks. He looks so fucking happy. Young, even. Like part of his inner child healed and woke up from a long slumber.
Keep it together.
“That’s my babaanne,” Fadel tells him, pointing at the first square on the screen before moving on to the next one, “That’s my dede. That’s Aunt Selin. And that's Elif, that’s Melis, and that’s Lara. Everyone, this is Style.”
They're all fucking gorgeous. Even his grandparents. And Style knew this, he knew it back when he first looked them up. But it's ridiculous how attractive this family is. Style supposes it makes sense. Look at Fadel. On top of that, Fadel’s mother was very pretty too. Of course his entire family looks like this. But just as he is about to say hello to them all, they express their own opinions about his looks out loud.
“Oh, Fadel! He's so handsome!” Selin coos.
“He is HOT and I rarely say that about guys!” Melis says, “Elif, he's so much hotter than your ex-fiancé.”
“Can you quit finding ways to bring him up?”
“Kemal, look at our grandson-in-law!”
“Hello,” Style says, bowing his head slightly, “It's nice to meet you.”
He does make a point of saying it in Turkish. Maybe it's to impress them, or maybe it's to meet them partway. But he does say the words well enough because Fadel looks at him with pleasant surprise and Leyla lets out a happy sound as she grins brightly.
“You know Turkish?!”
Style quickly shakes his head, “I taught myself some words and phrases.”
“I told him that I would tutor him if he stopped working so late,” Fadel tells them, causing Style to turn in his seat.
“I have been so timely this last week!” Style says, “So prompt that it's out of character! Incredibly present emotionally and physically. I got here at 3:59, Fadel! What time did I say I would be home? 4 pm! That takes talent, especially when you take traffic into account!”
“Fadel told us you customize and build cars. That you have designed one of a kind orders as well as racing vehicles,” Selin says, “That takes a lot of talent and skill!”
Style nods and feels his leg bouncing, “I was doing mechanic work for a long time. I still do. But a few years back, I started getting opportunities to do what I went to school for and business has been good.”
Why is he so nervous right now? They're being nice.
“I have a friend really into cars,” Melis says, “Collecting them and stuff. We got Fadel to give us your Instagram and TikTok, both your business and personal. We all followed you! Did you follow us back yet?”
Style pulls out his phone and sees no notifications, only to realize they are likely still off from the Macau trip. When he clicks on Instagram, the number of notifications he has is ridiculous. There are dozens of recent ones, most from Fadel’s family.
“I turned my notifications off a couple of weeks ago and completely forgot to turn them back on,” Style says, then looks at Fadel, “Your fault, by the way! You told me I couldn't be glued to my phone.”
“Because you have problems saying no and overbooking yourself when it comes to business inquiries, and then you would have been stressed the whole time we were in Macau,” Fadel says.
“My friend actually follows your business accounts already! I'm PISSED. It feels like we could have found Fadel a long time ago. I was scrolling through your photos and admiring your work, and there my cousin is on a Gondola with the love of his life serenading him. And it went super viral too! How did I not see it? My algorithm shows me all of GayTok!”
“You failed us, Melis,” Lara says, “We could have found him a couple of weeks ago.”
“How do I get on GayTok?” Leyla asks, “I want to see more videos of my beloved grandson and his partner.”
As Style lets out a shocked laugh, Fadel groans.
“We are not the face of GayTok,” Fadel says.
“Not with that attitude,” Kemal says, “You have to put yourself forward, my boy. With ambition, drive, and persistence, anything is possible. You just have to strive for it enough. If you want to be the face of GayTok, we will support you.”
As Style forces himself to lean out of frame to giggle uncontrollably, Fadel lightly pushes him.
“This is your fault,” Fadel tells him.
“Lara, you help me, okay?” Leyla says, her phone in her hand, “I want to be on GayTok so I never miss a video of my talented grandson ever again.”
“I just sat on a gondola,” Fadel says in bewilderment.
“But you did it so well,” Selin says, “And Style has a wonderful voice! You should sing together next time! Style, does Fadel still have a good voice? He sang when he was younger.”
Style wipes at his eyes and forces himself to pull it together, “He does. He only shows it off when we sing karaoke with friends, but he's better than any of us, although Bison is good when he tries. But it's only Ben who can give him a run for his money-”
“Ben!” Melis says excitedly, clapping her hands together.
“Lara!” Leyla prompts, sounding slightly more urgent as she holds her phone in her hands, “How do I make my For You page exclusively GayTok? I don't want anything else. Only that.”
“Anneanne, you can literally just follow his account,” Lara says.
“He doesn't HAVE an account,” Melis says, something akin to accusation in her tone, “The restaurant does, but he has someone else manage the social media for it. They do a good job, but he isn't featured on it much unless they are sticking a camera in his face while he is cooking. I'll get you on GayTok, Anneanne. Give me an hour with your phone and you will be a permanent resident.”
“Anneanne, do not give Melis your phone,” Elif says, “She may be on GayTok, but she is also on Surreal Tok, Provocative Performance Art Tok, Creepy Animation Tok, Analog Horror Tok-”
“And it makes me have the best For You page in the family,” Melis says, “Style, you have to get Fadel to make a personal social media. Okay? He's so lame for not having ANYTHING.”
Style shrugs and glances at Fadel, “He’s pretty private.”
Elif pouts at that, “You can set your profile to private and just let us and your close friends follow you.”
“Let's not pressure him,” Kemal says, “I don't love the social media stuff either. I barely get on it. Fadel just takes after me.”
“No, he takes after ME!” Leyla says, as if it is a competition, “We both love to cook!
As the conversation moves forward, Style finally loosens up. It's not as nervewracking as he thought it would be. They are very friendly and enthusiastic to hear anything he has to say, and Style takes his own advice by trying to match their energy. Although, that is somewhat exhausting. They are all clearly excited and running on high emotions.
“When we fly in, I will probably be tired,” Leyla says, “But I will have the best chefs at The Demiral cook us a wonderful meal. All you can eat! Do you have any dietary restrictions, Style?”
Style gives Fadel a pointed look before shaking his head, “Fadel will get on me about red and processed meats because of studies connecting it to cancer-”
“You have cancer?” Kemal says, his voice grave.
“No,” Style says quickly, “Which is why Fadel expanding the menu at his restaurant solely to cater to needs I don't have is ridiculous-”
“His mother passed at 40 from cancer and he likes to remind me it's genetic before claiming he will die before me approximately every three days,” Fadel says, “It actually made the restaurant more popular, so it's fine.”
“It was unnecessary,” Style reiterates.
But Leyla just waves her hands, “We will go pescatarian. Kemal and I mainly stick to a Mediterranean diet anyway. We will get there Sunday. So if your father, Bison, Kant, and anyone else you want to bring have no objections to that, then that is what we will have.”
“Speaking of, I think they are here,” Fadel says as Style hears the main door open as well.
“Kant and I are going to cook,” Style says, beginning to stand up, “Why don't I do that and see if Bison will come in here for a bit? You want that, Fadel?”
Fadel looks at him hopefully and nods his head. He looks so young. Style reaches over, squeezes his hand, and looks back at the screen.
“I'm really glad I got to meet you all,” Style says honestly, “I was more nervous than I expected to be, but you all seem like wonderful people. I'm looking forward to meeting you in person.”
“On Sunday,” Selin says happily, her eyes looking slightly misty.
“And we’ll play my videogame tomorrow,” Lara adds.
“I read your rundown, and it sounds so incredibly cool,” Style says, “Slightly terrifying, but I am down for some nightmare and psychosis inducing bonding time. I'm sure the others will be too.”
“Speaking of,” Fadel says, getting up from his seat to peek out the office door, “Babe? Ben? My cousin is a fan of yours. Can you come say hi?”
“Yeah!” Style hears Ben say.
“Style!” Melis squeals, “Did he just say what I think he said?! Are they THERE?!”
Before Style can answer, Ben leads the way in and squats in front of the computer with a grin.
“Which one of you is it?” Ben asks, getting an answer when Melis’s squeals re-emerge more loudly. Kemal and Leyla look concerned, Selin looks mildly exasperated, Elif looks unimpressed with her younger sister, but Lara looks mildly interested. Maybe she has binge watched some BenBabe series with Melis.
“Babe!” Ben calls out, “Come here! Sorry. He was getting Perdita settled. Do you want to meet Perdita?”
“Of course!” Melis says.
“Who is Perdita?” Kemal asks.
Melis sighs, “She's their dog! Their child. She's really popular on social media.”
“And she is friends with our grandson like you are?” Leyla asks, as if that's the deciding factor on whether they approve of a five month old puppy.
“She loves Fadel,” Style says to reassure her, “She likes to sprawl out across his lap. She's a good dog.”
Leyla nods, seeming satisfied by the answer, “We shall all follow her then. Melis, send us her socials.”
But Melis is too busy squealing over Babe when he comes in and gets into frame. Style gives him his space and pats Perdita on the head before Ben picks her up. When he walks towards the doorway, Bison and Fadel are standing nearby.
“How hard were they to impress?” Bison asks before glancing at Fadel, “He's a bit…I don't know. I have barely seen him like this. I'm not sure I can trust his judgement.”
Style looks at Fadel too, who is still bright eyed and excited. He quickly kisses Fadel’s cheek, then turns back to Bison.
“They're sweet people,” Style says honestly, “Supportive. And they're excited to meet the person Fadel calls his brother.”
While Bison seems like he wasn't expecting a sentimental and sincere answer from him, that's what he's getting. In fact, Bison keeps sending Style surprised and incredulous looks, even as Fadel leads him into the office.
