F*ck Boy

Finally, he’s home. The day had spiraled out of his control at some intervals but, ultimately it went well. Dash pulls into the parking lot of the gates of the private estate he had relocated to only a few months ago; around the time his mother had started to fall ill. His building; one of the modern semi-detached mansions in the estate, looks like all the others; somewhat bland of any personality. It reminds him of the home he grew up in. The one where their father was now alone; without a wife.

He parks his car in the garage that contains several others; a bad habit he had; spending so much money on cars. There was the 1997 McLaren F1, the Audi A8, and his favorite - a 1955 Ford Customline that he has never driven once but, this habit was better than the previous habit he used to have; spending so much time drowning in a bottle. Dash likes the interior of the house even though he’s sure it’ll be a sore disappointment to anyone with an eye for interior design. It’s minimalistic to the core with plain white walls and an unintentional monochromatic decor. Clean. Bland. Devoid of any personality. Too much personality often resulted in problems. 

Climbing up the stairs to the master bedroom; the largest of all 5; the mild echo is unmissable and forces him to crave some sound.

“Alexa, turn on the music please”, he says into the thin air sounding slightly defeated. Ella Fitzgerald’s ‘How High The Moon’ fills the vacant space all over the building and suddenly he feels less alone. 

In the bedroom, he sheds his clothes and proceeds to make his way into the bathroom for a cold shower. His reflection meets him once he’s in the bathroom and in the view of the mirror. The bruise above his cheekbone is darkening and it’s only now he sees how tightly he’s been clenching his jaw making him look more antagonistic than he’d prefer. Darius, that asshole. 5 years ago, if Darius had tried what he did tonight, he would have left that building in an ambulance. Because 5 years ago’s Dash wasn’t the same as today’s Dash. And that was what Darius was hoping for. A chance to belittle and undermine all of the self-work that Dash had been putting in over the years. To get a rise out of him. He failed. 

And Lenny…she was perfect. Perfectly convincing, he was sure even Darius was falling for it. The only person that clearly wasn’t buying it was Dustin. For some reason, Dash had always been closer to his younger brother even though they didn’t talk much either. Perhaps because of the non-competitiveness between them, things were always easier. Dustin; is a mediator of some sort. He always seemed eerily satisfied with the littlest things. Dash on the other hand has never considered himself to be grotesquely ambitious in fact, the major reason he works so hard for the company and desires to become the CEO is because of how badly he doesn’t want Darius to take over. He’s certain that Darius would only lead the family deeper into the mess they already are in.

He’s barely done with his shower when his phone begins to ring. Still wet, he answers the phone;

“Ey”, 

“Carmen filled me in on what happened. I can’t believe that asshole”, an upset Dustin says

“Yeah. Doesn’t matter”,

“I’m glad you didn’t retaliate. Although it wouldn’t have been the worst thing to happen”, Dash laughs lightly at this as he heads into the bedroom and fetches something to wear. 

“Alright, I just wanted to make sure you’re okay……I mean none of us is okay right now but, as okay as we can be. That’s what mum would have wanted”. That’s exactly why Dustin and Dash got along so well, he had inherited the grace and kindness their mother possessed. 

“Thanks, Dustin”,

“Right, stay safe and uhm say hi to Lenny for me”, he adds the last part amusingly enough that Dash knows he certainly isn’t buying their sudden romance at all. An email notification pops up on his phone from Jen, his assistant, and it contains his itinerary for the following week. The whole week is booked to the max with tasks and events and then of course there’s the Italy trip by the weekend, perhaps the most important one of all. In Italy, he’d have to check in on the business. Immediately after going through the email, a call from Jen comes in.

“Get my email?”

“Of course”,

“Perfect. Let me know if we need to go over anything in more detail”,

“Sure”, there’s a few minutes of silence on her end.

“Um, I also wanted to ask how much longer we’re going to be in New York. I -”

“Jen, can we talk about this tomorrow?”, more silence;

“Yeah, sure. Will you need me for Italy?”, it’s not unusual to travel with an assistant but, it’s not wise to travel with an assistant you’re sleeping with when you’re supposed to be getting married to someone else in a few weeks. Even if the thing with Lenny isn’t real, maintaining an intimate relationship with Jen doesn’t feel right. It’s Lenny he should be taking to Italy, maybe even propose there, speed up this arranged marriage thing and show his father he’s ready for this position.

“I’m not sure”, 

“Okay. Goodnight, Dash”, the phone call ends. In the last 30 seconds, his mind has invested in the idea of taking Lenny with him to Italy. Considering the way he had treated her tonight, what if she lost interest in their arrangement? Yes, they had signed an agreement but, was he really going to do anything to her if she changed her mind? Probably not. He’s offering her 5 million dollars! She’d be crazy to change her mind but, clearly, she’s a bit more emotional than he anticipated and he’d rather keep her happy and in line, than push her away. 

He decides to kill two birds with one stone, give Jen a hint that he’s seeing someone, and get Lenny back on his good side so when he proposes the Italy trip, she says yes. He calls Jen again;

“Hey”, expectant; she sounds expectant. He hates that he’s about to crush her expectations;

“I need to have flowers delivered to someone tomorrow. I’d text you the address”, 

“Oh. okay. What’s the occasion? So I’d know what kind to get”, she says in an attempt to draw out some more information;

“I don’t know. Apology flowers? Something that seems thoughtful, not roses”, he says.

“Got it”,

“Thanks. Goodnight, Jen”, she ends the phone call. On the other end of the line, Jen receives the text containing the address and name of the recipient of the flowers. Lenny. She shuts her eyes to hold back the tears. What had she been thinking? He had told her plainly - no strings and yet, she had fallen for him. Dash Berht-Lehman would go to bed tonight content that he handled the situation as best as he could. Jen like all the other women before her would call him a fuck boy. But how can he be a fuck boy? When he’s always honest about his intentions. That’s his argument.