Work Text:
twenty-seven is a strange age.
you’re more than halfway through your twenties, ceo of your family’s company, and ignoring your stepmother’s not-so-subtle hints about getting married and settling down.
no one knows she had your mother killed but you and she doesn’t know that you know. it’s a fucked up family secret on top of the other family secrets that you try and bury, but it surfaces every time you see your dad with her. you can’t tear them apart; not when dad is so happy and xerxes has a father in his life, so you keep them at arm's length and that way it doesn’t hurt as much. seeing them during holidays and phone calls every sunday keeps them at bay and only livvie finds it weird that you live so close to them, yet, rarely see them.
you decided her opinion doesn’t matter and that it’s better this way.
you don’t have friends (livvie doesn’t count, she’s technically family and she probably just feels bad for you) and you rarely leave your office, but when you do you’re nice and cordial with everyone so your employees assume that you have friends outside of work. you haven’t really had friends since you dropped the last of them from college after it got too exhausting to keep up with or be around them. it’s wasn’t their fault, you just stopped answering phone calls and texts and wouldn’t leave the house for days on end, so they gave up. you understand this.
it’s fine.
you see their lives continue on facebook; marriages, babies, birthdays. you ‘like’ each event as if you’re still apart of it and figure it’s better this way.
sometimes when you’re scrolling down your feed you see gert and chase. there’s something about an engagement dinner after gert finishes her doctorate program. nico and karolina will be there when they get back from some retreat in bali, molly’s dance troupe made it to nationals that weekend and as their coach she can’t miss it but she sends her love. you give them a like and continue scrolling. they stopped sending out invitations to you too, which you get . livvie thinks you’re upset about it, but you aren’t and you’re not even sure if you should be.
maybe you should take it up with your therapist.
“alex are you even listening?”
livvie likes to let herself into your office and you make a note to have the locks changed again . “not really, but when do i ever listen to you?” you smile and lean back in your seat.
“never, which is why we didn’t work,” she snorts.
“ouch. you wound me.”
“anyway, i have tickets to that new ryan reynolds flick and no one to go with. you’re coming with me if i have to drag you out of this office myself.”
this is a routine for the two of you; she buys an extra ticket to some movie, show, or event, you roll your eyes, she threatens you with bodily harm, you cave, and for the first time in months you go somewhere other than work, home, or therapy.
“this isn’t healthy, alex.” she’ll whisper as you walk to wherever it is she drags you.
“it’s fine.”
it’s better this way.