by Xavier Neal
“Only reason I attend these things,” Ronald responds while shaking Brie's hand. “She gets to give to the needy and I get to look like I give a damn about more than my sports car collection.”
Judge him all you want. He's one of the most honest and blunt individuals I've ever met. It's actually the reason people are drawn to him.
Brie politely laughs before he questions, “And what about you beautiful? What are you doing in a stiff place like this?”
“Keeping Kellan out of trouble.”
“There's an endless job,” Ronald chuckles. “What are you two bidding on?”
I lean back in my seat. “So you can snake it from me or remind me what a terrible investment it is?”
“Everything here is a terrible investment,” he scoffs. “That's what they should've named this fundraiser. Hell, on the invitations it should've said in big bold print 'Where Your Money Will Go To Help No One'. These things are an absolute waste of money and time. They raise millions of funds yet it hardly feeds anyone, unlike your program that doesn't promise fake execution to fluff your own pockets.”
Brie curiously questions, “Do you donate to Kellan's program?”
“Second biggest donor to Kellan himself.”
I can get Ronald bloody Randolph to invest a portion of his cash, but not my own father. Fucked up a tad, don't you agree?
Ronald shrugs. “Gotta have something to look good on my taxes.”
The two of us smirk at his remark.
“Do you work for him?” He casually asks my girlfriend. “New secretary, he's showing the ropes?
Brie starts to answer when my irritation gets the better of me. “Why do you assume she's my secretary?”
Ronald shrugs again and slides his hands in his pockets. “She's not your usual type for anything else.”
Outrage begins to slowly boil. “Meaning?”
“She's not blonde. Not a socialite. Not a celebrity to my knowledge. Has no trouble completing a thought without her brain over-heating.”
“Anything else make her not my usual type?”
His head tilts at me in question.
At that moment, Brie nudges me under the table, and encourages me to relax with a firm look.
“Forgive me. That was rude.” I clear my throat. “I must have had too much champagne.”
He gives me a questionable look yet states, “It's alright...I'm gonna go find Emma. The two of you enjoy the rest of your night.”
Brie waves sweetly and I give him a polite nod goodbye.
The moment we're alone she asks, “Are you okay, Kellan?”
Rather than answer immediately, I let my attention roam once more spotting judgmental eyes our direction. It's at that moment I scan the room for other people besides Brie who are of a different ethnicity. As soon as I realize it's just her, a wave of nausea washes over me to the point it feels like I'm drowning.
How is this possible? A room full of people and she's the only one not sporting the same shade of pigment? I thought diversity was the spice of life! I thought the world had progressed past this particular point!
“Kellan...”
My eyes land on hers. “I'm ready to leave. Are you?”
She tries not to pout. “What about the auction?”
“I'll arrange for one of the hosts to keep bidding in my name if we get out bid.”
Her glowing grin returns. “You really wanna get laid for winning, don't you?”
I struggle to return the smile. “Always.”
After swinging by the auction area to assure our win, I lead the two of us promptly out of the event, thankful to be away from the uncomfortable stares and hateful thoughts swirling around us.
In the limo, Brie attempts to make conversation about those we encountered throughout the evening who she was introduced to. I do my best to engage yet my mind involuntarily wanders to the faces of women who were snickering and texting.
Unless they weren't texting...
I pull out my phone and give my name a quick internet search. The immediate results capture my complete attention as well as return the rage to its rawest state. My eyes scan everything from hateful racial and salacious tweets aimed at Brie without naming her directly to blogs bashing the bold choice of dress and body shaming her. With every passing cold and callous comment created by the user and the additional ones from their followers, the grip on my device tightens.
The limo comes to an unexpected halt, which is when I lift my eyes to Brie's. She simply shakes her head, sighs, and exits the vehicle.
Shit...Did she see them? Is she mad at me for subjecting her to those things?
Our ride up to our room is in surprising silence. Each time I open my mouth to say something to her, I clamp it shut, terrified I'm only going to make the situation worse.
The moment we're on the other side of our hotel suite door, she makes a bee line for the bedroom forcing me to plea, “Brie, wait.”
She spins around and snaps. “For what? For you to ignore me some more? For another weird mood swing? For you to decide whether or not we should attend another one of these together?”
My jaw bobs, the answer to each of those questions surprisingly harder to answer than they should be.
I just...I need a minute to bloody breathe. To think clearly.
“I'm going to bed,” she states with sadness suffocating her tone. “Alone.”
“Brie-”
“No,” she instantly denies. “Kellan, I didn't do any of this shit tonight for me. I did it for you. I could care less about fancy dresses, fancy shoes, and weird fancy food. I did all of this because I love you and I know that we can't hide in my world forever. If we're going to be together then that means I'm going to have to suck myself into a suffocating gown and smile in smug faces that not so secretly are disgusted by me. Being together means we're going to have to face uncomfortable looks at times and backhanded comments. It's just a fact. Not everyone is accepting or understanding.”
“But they should be. Look at the times for Christ sake!”
She gives me a short shrug. “What should be isn't always what is. And the truth is Kellan, I didn't give a shit about what any of them said or did or thought. The only thing that mattered to me was supporting you. But obviously...” Her voice stumbles, “Obviously, that wasn't the only thing that mattered to you. So, you need to decide Kellan if being with me is worth the stares and judgmental remarks. If you can stomach the hatred certain members of society still have. If you love me enough to taint the image the world desires.”
Without another word, she disappears around the corner. The sound of a door shutting echoes throughout the suite seconds later.
A frustrated groan grows in the back of my throat and I squeeze the back of my neck in hopes of releasing some sort of pressure.
She's completely right. I've never had to deal with this type of animosity before. Prudes for me flashing my private parts. Sure. Women disgusted at the rapid rate I run through them. Of course. Brie herself was initially displeased with that until she realized I was capable of more. But this? Having strangers hate the woman I'm with simply because she was born to a different race? It's ludicrous and I can't control how furious it makes me.
I make my way to the living room where I flop down on the couch. Loosening my tie, I try to shake away the comments I scrolled past in the car. Instead of disappearing, they amplify the desire to look at more, to pick at the pain like a fresh scab that needs much more time to heal. I ditch my shoes, stretch out across the piece of leather furniture, and open my phone. The pages are still pulled up, taunting me instantly. For what feels like hours, I tromp through internet posts, scowling at gossip sites and grousing at unflattering photos captured to purposely destroy her imagine.
When I finally reach the point I can barely breathe any more, I dial the only number I can think of.
It only rings once before he answers, “You're calling in the middle of breakfast. This better be important.”
The sou
nd of my brother brings unexpected comfort.
My lack of retort receives an immediate concern, “Kellan. Everything alright?”
I blow a harsh breath. “I'm a bloody idiot.”
“Is this new to you?” He teases with chuckle. “Is it a scary feeling?” When there's no jab back he returns to worrying, “Why are you a bloody idiot? What did you do?”
Silence settles momentarily between us. Shutting my eyes, I attempt to answer, “I did the one thing I knew better than to do.”
“Please, tell me you kept your pants on.”
The corner of my lip tugs upward. “I took Brie with me to the fundraiser.”
“And?”
“Then I spent most the evening being livid over their remarks and unfriendly glances.” Another deep breath escapes. “And to top it all off, I then searched the internet to read the hateful dribble they had to say in regards to her.”
Kris gasps. “You didn't.”
“I did.”
He tries to hide his obvious amusement. “You must really love this girl. Normally, you couldn't give a rat’s ass about what one of those trolls has to say, yet from the tone in your voice I can assume you're seething. Is it because you assumed she was just too amazing the rest of the world would have to love her? You know, sort of like you assume they feel about you?”
“No.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “No, I'm...I'm upset because it wasn't about her as a person. It was about her skin, something she can't even control. It wasn't because she was rude or classless or even bloody American. It was the mere simple fact she was being judged by the color of her skin. She was being judged and hated for something out of her control. It was because-”
“You couldn't protect her from it,” Kris finishes for me.
The ache in my chest deepens as I drop my hand. “Yes.”
“You're not upset because people are arseholes. You're upset because you can't shelter her from it. Because you love her so much the idea of anyone hurting her drives you insane. Because you would rather endure all the pain being thrust her direction than ever have something or someone threaten her smile.”
I nod despite the fact he can't see me.
“It's the same thing I went through the first time Soph and I attended an event. It was the first time she stopped being just mine. The first time I had to share our love with the world and deal with the repercussions of being in the public eye. Fact of the matter is, little brother, being watched is a part of who you are whether you wish it was or not. And with that comes a very frightening inability to shield your heart once the world sees it.”
My voice shakes. “How did you do it? Hell, how do you do it?”
“I remember that everyone is allowed their own opinion, and I'm equally allowed not to care.” There's a short pause in which I swear he smiles. “Soph is more than just the future queen of this country. She's the queen of my heart and for her, I'd endure anything.”
A small groan seeps out. “You sound like a bloody chick flick.”
Even if it's true and how I also feel, doesn't make it less feminine.
“I pour my heart out to you and that's how you respond.”
“You spilled your purse. You might want to put your tampons back in before Soph sees.”
“You are the worst brother in the history of brothers, you know that?”
“You have no concrete way to prove that.”
“I don't feel I need one.”
“Thanks, Kris.” For the first time in hours, I smile. “For everything.”
His response barely begins before Sophia squeals. “Look at how adorable they are together!”
Oh no...
There's a ruffling sound proceeded with, “Yes. Adorable.”
“Oh, shut up,” I grunt.
“You're smiling,” Soph coos from what I can only assume is beside him. “Like actually smiling. He's smiling at an event! Like actually smiling, not that fake bullshit smile you both share that's equal parts creepy and transparent. Like a real smile...You look so happy!”
Brie's beautiful face floats back into my brain. Thoughtlessly, I retort, “She makes me happy...The happiest I've ever been.”
“Now who sounds like a chick flick?” Kris teases before whining, “Ou...”
“Enjoy your breakfast,” I state.
“Enjoy your couch.”
“How did you-”
“Because if you responded the way you said you did and the way I'm imagining, there's no possible way she'd let you sleep beside her tonight.”
Makes you wonder how bad he messed up with Soph their first outing, doesn't it?
“Trust me. It's for the best. Give her space to breathe. Collect your apology. And return to her in the morning with your tail tucked neatly between your legs.” The mirth in his tone actually spreads to me. “It'll be fine. Try to get some sleep. You're an even more insufferable pain in the ass when you haven't slept.”
“Give Soph my love when she's done cooing over those photos.”
“I miss the days where I could wear dresses with that much cleavage,” she sighs in the background.
“No one should be seeing your cleavage but me,” my brother defensively announces.
“Night.”
Once he returns the parting, I end the call and toss the phone onto the coffee table.
I hope my brother's right. I hope Brie's still willing to make this work when she wakes up. I hope that while I've been in here basking in the mental brutality of my own choices that she hasn't talked herself out of being with me. Again. Out of...loving me. She really does love me...It's not just an idea I assume from her actions. No. She said it out loud. She confirmed it. She announced it without second guessing... Fuck. She said it and I couldn't even stop being a self-righteous dick long enough to say it back. Why is it the hole I've managed to swan dive into keeps getting deeper and deeper? Be honest with me. Do you think things are truly finished between us?
Brie
There's a soft knock at the bedroom door. I grab my glasses, roll over onto my back, and prepare to grant him entrance when I abruptly stop.
Not sure I'm awake enough for the possible, 'we should end this now' conversation. Then again, I'm not sure I'd ever be awake enough for that. What? Of course I'm expecting it. I basically bullied him into an ultimatum last night. Choose me or the limelight. It's not exactly how I meant for it to come out. I was just trying to tell him learn to deal with racism, but that's like commanding a brand new baby bird to fly. That kinda change takes time. Adjustment.
The knocking repeats and Kellan calmly says, “I need to change before we head to the art studio...May I please come in?”
“Yeah,” I answer and lift myself up to a sitting position.
He opens the door to reveal a disheveled vision I've never seen before.
Of course we've had our fair share of actual disagreements, but they all ended basically the same way. One of us decided to head to our respective home only to then be stopped by the other, argument resolved, and make up sex to some variation to conclude it. This is actually the first time we've even slept apart since our first night together. Should I be worried it won't be our last?
Kellan cautiously enters the room. “I received a call last night confirming our winning bid. We're allowed a private showing of the studio any time from 10 to 4. It's their normal business hours for Sunday.”
“I can go alone if you want.” My suggestion sinks his entire demeanor. His shoulders plummet while the rest of his body struggles not to buckle. “I mean...I don't have to. I just...I know how much you hate art stuff. Figured maybe there was something else you'd rather see in the city before we go.”
Kellan starts to retort yet quickly clamps his jaw shut. After a long exhale, he states, “I want us together. Wherever that is.”
The possible double sided answer lowers my eyebrows in confusion.
Well, what do you think he meant?
“I ordered us breakfast if you would like to eat while I
grab a shower.”
I attempt to lighten the mood. “Are there berries smothering it?”
Kellan lets go of a small smile. “There are berries on the side and plenty of bacon to keep my favorite all American girl cheerful.”
With that he strolls to the bathroom where he shuts the door. Once I hear the shower start, I hop out of bed and hustle to kitchen portion of the suite. On the bar counter there is a buffet of options to suit both of us. I smile at his thoughtfulness as I reach for a plate. I stack it with pancakes, bacon, eggs, and strawberries on the side before I relocate to the table where I enjoy watching the last half of Legally Blonde.