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“Bradley, my boy!” he gestured towards me, “a true Uppercrust, my pride.” My dad's voice bragged loudly as he swirled his bourbon.
The Ivory walls around me stretched high, displaying grand chandeliers when they met the ceiling, and the linoleum tile cut in diamonds I stood beneath created a large foundation for an even larger house. I stood next to my dad in my maroon suit with my hair slicked back, allowing my furry ears to peek out. He stood tall in a black tux that captured his sharp shoulders, and waves of woody cologne radiated from him. I looked small next to him. No one else could make me feel small other than him.
I knew I would be my dad's prized produce of the night. After all, it was my party. I claimed precedence of the Gamma Mu Mu Fraternity, a necessary accomplishment. My dad is a man of competition, and from a young age, the weight of your worth depended on you taking home whatever represented success.
My dad offered two things close to love. One was money, if you played your part in the image of success and prestige that came with being an Uppercrust. You were rewarded with money that would spoil and support you until you grew old. Secondly, he’d give praise, and I lived off it. That often short-lived dose of praise is the crumbs I’d pick at for weeks or months. For me, one prize hung high above the rest, the X Games, A yearly skating competition. A game my family had won for years, a game I know would run the engine of his praise for months if I brought home the trophy, and it would give me a full plate of love to enjoy.
I heard the harsh clicking of heels around me as a group of attendees disbursed, leaving me and him. His smile dropped, leaving an all-too-familiar lifeless look.
“Bradley, follow me.” His authoritative voice spoke low.
I followed him as he guided me up red carpet-lined stairs, and we walked through mahogany arches that grew from the now darkly colored walls. We walked until we reached an all too familiar room to me, it was my dad's study, and I could feel my palms start to sweat.
My dad's loafers clicked to the center of the room. There was a circle in the middle of the shiny floor, which created a grand stage for a dark-colored desk that displayed a little lamp.
“Can you tell me what I’ve always taught you?” he looked straight at the wall, feet planted.
“To be a winner, to be the winner, sir.” Despite my doubt, I spoke with certainty.
“Right, so I hope you’ll understand what I need to do.” He walked around the desk and sat in his chair.
“I don't have absolute or even exceptional certainties you’ll win, so I’ll be making arrangements…” He turned his head for a moment to think. “To assist you.” He looked me up and down. “Challenges are all covered.” His face was apathetic, an expression so monotone it made my fists clench. I was sure I looked as red as a ruby.
I responded quickly, “I practice daily, I’ve been a top competitor in almost every race. Certainly, a mistake here or there doesn't constitute cheati-”
He cut me off and took on a stern voice. “Look around this house, it is a physical embodiment of the wealth that has cushioned you from everything.” His face contorted, and the lines surrounding his features turned downwards. He jumped quickly into action, looming over me.
The light from the desk created a large, rigid shadow that enveloped me. I could feel my breath stifle, my heart created a pounding rhythm that begged me to curl into myself with each rapid beat.
“Do you want to lose everything? Because I’ll tell you what, if you lose this, I can make the life you have grown so dependent on vanish with the snap of my fingers. You will have nobody and you will certainly own nothing.” He spoke with prestige, concealing his previous anger as if he were reciting a fact.
“Don’t think I won't, Bradley. You can make your own decision.” He was already close to me, but he got even closer, placing two hands on my shoulders. His grip was tight. His nose was practically touching mine. His breath smelled like whiskey and bourbon.
“I recommend you remember this conversation when deciding.” With that, he left, leaving me surrounded by the house that showed the Uppercrust’s success. The kind of success that in moments like these made my stomach churn. I made my choice. I was going to cheat. I was going to claw my way to victory no matter the sacrifice or the consequences.
Ultimately, this only bolded in bright red what I already knew. What I wanted didn’t matter; I did what was best, not for me but for the Uppercrust lineage and for my father.
