Wheres your favourite place? I asked him over the dinner table.
The question caused his hand to take pause midway between his risotto and half-open mouth. He furrowed his ancient brow and decided to rest his rice-laden fork on the plate. What do you mean, Edmund?
The lighting in our very modern kitchen was dimmed down. It was silent. Behind him, the stainless steel bench top and sink was lit only by the backlights above the stove. They reflected a little off the floor-to-ceiling windows to my right that looked out over the lights of the city.
My Father always dimmed the lights while we ate. The lounge was behind me, all opened up and separated not at all from the kitchen. On the high ceiling above me, the fan was turning slowly to work away the slight mist that dinner had caused.
I reached over my Vera Wang china bowl of rice and vegetables and took up my glass of beer while I kept staring at the old man sitting across from me on our long table. Your favourite place. I told him. Where is it?
He seemed confused. Either by the nature of the question, or the fact that Id chosen to break my otherwise textbook silence this evening.
Thats a very broad question, Edmund. He told me, dabbing at the corner of his sagging mouth with a Country Road hand towel. Salt and pepper stubble was beginning to sprout over his shrivelled cheeks.
It must be, I agreed, idly stirring my risotto, seeing as youve been all over the world.
He let out a single laugh, and even smiled for a moment before sipping his wine. Not all over.
I took a pull of my beer. Ever been to Brazil?
Twice last year. He told me. You knew that.
Italy?
He took a moment, swirling his tongue through a mouthful of bloody liquid, before audibly swallowing and placing the glass down carefully on the coaster. Yes.
America?
Just what is this about, Edmund? He said sternly, placing his elbows on the table and linking his fingers, staring through the twilight darkness at me.
I shrugged, and prodded a piece of broccoli with my fork. Im just curious. I mean, you say youve been everywhere, why settle in Melbourne? This place is boring.
Oh, he sighed with a knowing glance as he lifted up his fork once again and sifted through his almost empty plate. Thats what this is about. Youre bored. You want to go overseas? Weve been through this, Edmund.
I dont want to go overseas I murmured under my breath and glared down at my plate, bringing my beer to my lips again. My Father once promised me that if I got dux in my last year of high school, that hed pay for me to go anywhere I wanted.
For some reason, I always thought hed made that deal because he knew I wouldnt achieve it.
I stood up, and pushed my chair in behind me.
Where are you going? He inquired. Youve barely eaten.
He remained silent as he watched me walk out of the kitchen and down the hall, past the staircase leading to the next floor, and turn right, opening the door and walking down the three carpeted steps into my bedroom.
I didnt want to go overseas. But he was right about one thing; I was bored.
And for the life of me, I couldnt think of where Id want to go to console myself. I couldnt think of a favourite place I had where I could just relax and reflect on life.
I didnt have a batcave, or a fortress of solitude.
And apparently, neither did my Father.
I pulled my t-shirt over my head and walked past my lemon-scented bed to my ensuite bathroom. I stepped into the white-tiled shower and let the searing hot water pound down on me.
My mind wondered.
I was in a place I shouldnt have been.
The hall was drab, dirty and cream-coloured. I could feel the rough texture of the paint as I ran my hands along the walls. The thumping of the music somewhere else in the house was muffled by the distance and the rooms that surrounded me.
I am fourteen years old.
It was dark, and the light above me kept flickering as it struggled to clutch onto life. My tongue traced out from my mouth to trickle over my lips. My body was pudgier then, but my face was still trim, attractive. I wore my hair in a crew-cut. Everyone at school was doing it.
The bathroom door burst open suddenly, and two guys walked out, both laughing hysterically. They were so big then, but they cant have been older than eighteen. They each had half-filled bottles of beer in their hands and they kept cackling, padding down the hall right past me. I pressed my body against the wall as they went.
The door was left open, and I slowly approached. The bathroom was white, once. It was a dull grey colour now, the tile grooves caked with grime, and the base of the sink was green. It was only small, a bathtub-shower to my left, the sink and medicine cabinet to my right, the toilet directly opposite the door.
I only noticed these details on the outskirts of my vision, as my eyes had been drawn to the tub, and the precious treasure that lay within. The bath was a fabled, chrome chest, and the body my lost, pirate-gold.
She was young, younger than the boys, anyway. She wasnt much older than me, maybe a year or two, it was hard for me to tell ages back then, especially outside of school, where they didnt wear uniforms.
Daintily, I approached, and my breath was held within my body, as if I were frightened to release it, in case it woke her. Id never seen anything like it before, and it reached out to me from a place I couldnt see, and wrapped around my heart.
It poisoned my mind, and pulled me into a vortex that whisked me away to a place from which Ive never returned, but have begged to be released from.
She stirred only slightly as gazed down at her.
Her eyes were half lidded, her dirty-blonde hair wet and clinging to a tan face that still held the roundness of youth. Her lips were full, and precious, and were parted only slightly. She was on her back, in the tub, her feet flat below her, knees in the air.
Her legs were bare. Such soft skin, a small freckle here and there, not a ripple of fat, but still solid and beautiful. She wore no pants, but simple, blue cotton underwear. Id never seen a girl so bare in my life.
She had a t-shirt on, tight around her trim upper-body, her breasts were still developing, but at the time they were two glorious mounds hidden beneath the thinnest, softest white cotton.
She stirred again, and the bottle of Smirnoff Vodka in her hand clanked hard against the ceramic tub interior. She muttered something I couldnt hear.
W-, still so young, I hadnt grown into my tongue yet. What did you say? I mean, pardon?
Close the door! she managed, her abdominal muscles heaving to push the words out of her lips, contorted with frustration.
I spun around, quickly grasping at the door handle, and pulling it in until it clicked shut. When I turned, shed managed to have opened her eyes. She was looking at me, and I looked back at her.
We held each others gaze, our minds unwittingly at a contest with each other. Without speaking, we were both deciding what exactly was going to happen. She was thinking of what to say, I was thinking of how I would react. I wasnt supposed to be here.
She knew that.
And she liked it.
Help me up, she uttered, dropping the bottle next to her as more of the clear liquid trailed out the open lid, down onto her legs and then into the drain. She extended her hands to me, palms out, fingers spread.
I remember thinking how cute her fingers looked as they clasped the air before me, like a small child wantonly pleading for its Mother.
I took her hands in mine, and felt her soft skin as I helped her from the tub. I was taller than her, but it was clear she was still a little older than me. She had trouble standing at first, and I held her up, her feet uneven beneath her, legs refusing to take her weight.
Maybe, I muttered after a moment, you should sit down? She made a motion which I decided was a nod, mainly because I hadnt the strength to continue holding her at the time. She plonked down onto the toilet, seat down and leant back, looking up at me, dazed.
I dont know you. She decided.
I dont know you either. I managed, with a boyish chuckle.
Youre too young to be at this party... she groaned, and pushed herself up onto the toilet a little more. You someones brother?
I shook my head. No, I scratched my arm. I dont think Im too young though.
She chuckled a little and leaned back again, looking up to me, some of her hair still plastered to her face. Youre probably not how old are you?
Sixteen. I lied.
Jeez I thought you might have been younger. She groaned and sniffed, closing her eyes.
A few moments passed in silence, and I kept my eyes off her body as best I could, and decided to watch what remained of the vodka trickle down the drain. It looked no different than water at the bottom of the tub.
Is that how old you are? I asked, slowly turning to look at her. Sixteen?
She nodded.
Isnt this someones eighteenth? I asked.
It is. Fred Paulson. She screwed her nose up, and spat in the sink. Get me a water?
I turned and looked to the sink. I turned the tap on and made sure it was cold. I opened the medicine cabinet and took out the glass that the Paulson family used to clean their teeth. Filling it, I turned the tap off and passed the cup to her.
Enticing fingertips brushed over mine.
She drank the water down in one go, and I watched the gentle muscles of her throat work over and over as she swallowed down the sweet nectar. When the glass was drained, she wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, and asked for more, a sultry look in her eye met me.
I felt something inside me pull, and twist. I was shackled in this vortex of pleasure, and I knew then that I always wanted eyes like that on me. I wanted them needing me. Needing something from me. I wanted them again, and I didnt want her lustful gaze turned away.
So I gave her what she wanted, and she sipped lovingly on the liquid, sniffing slightly again.
I leaned back on the door of the bathroom, and watched her. She was making me thirsty, just the sight of her.
Whats your name?
Eddie. I told her.
She looked me up and down. You one of those Saint Kevins boys as well?
I nodded.
Must be hard, not getting to talk with girls much. She said, tilting her head slightly to the side as she looked up at me.
Not really. I said, trying to sound confident. In truth, it was awkward. Socializing with the opposite sex was something we definitely werent taught in school.
She smiled at me. Are you nervous, Eddie?
I laughed a bit to hide my embarrassment. What? No Course not.
Its not hard to talk to girls you know. She said, pressing the glass to her warm forehead. You just need to know what youre talking about. I supposed thats hard, if you havent done it before, huh?
Ive talked to girls. I said, defensively, but took pause, and nodded. But yeah, I guess I know what you mean.
Her eyes were still glossy with the haze of alcohol. I was too young to figure out why she was in the bathroom, but now I can only guess it was because she passed out, and someone put her in the shower to try and rouse her.
Droplets of water fell from her hair onto her white top.
Youre looking at me. She said.
What? I shrugged, and pointedly looked back to the bathtub.
Do you want to kiss me, Eddie? she asked. I sucked both my lips into my mouth and looked to her. She was smirking drunkenly, wickedly. She wasnt thinking straight, clearly. She was being silly, she was being drunk.
I hadnt had a drop all night, and I wasnt above doing what I could to get that look from her.
Yes, I told her.
She gestured me closer, and slowly I went. She tasted like vomit and liquor and spit and sex. And I knelt between her legs in that bathroom, and when things escalated, she guided me, and blinded as she was by her own loss.
What she wanted from me was what she thought she needed. It went to show me how people work. Abandoned she was, half naked, wet in a bathtub of a strangers house, rescued by a boy she didnt know. She was determined to show herself she needed this, that she wanted this.
And I gave her the best thirty seconds of her dismal, little life.
I twisted the tap of the shower, turning it off and leaving me dripping little echoes in the chrome room, filled with fog. I sniffed and ran my hand over my forehead, slicking my sopping wet hair back over my skull as I stepped out onto the heated tiles and towelled myself off.
The Vodka Girl at the party was responsible for what I had become. She was responsible for solidifying me into a simple medium of boring, repetitive work. I crave that look in the eyes of women, and in my darker hours it makes me sick that I can get it from them so easily.
You almost feel sorry for them.
Vodka Girl had shackled me in the deep recesses of the most basic desires of my mind. I wanted her, I got her. It was the one thing God ever gave me, but now, I dont want it. I felt like I was an addict, and as much as I wanted to try something else, I couldnt find the strength to get off what I could so easily score.
I was only dripping a little bit when I walked back into my dimly lit bedroom. The lights of Melbourne filtering in through my walls flickered and blinked. I slumped naked onto the thick, feather pillows of my bed and let out a helpless groan.
My sheets. They smelled like lemon.
I sat up and shook my head. Seizing up the pillow Phoebe had slept on and hurled it across the room, where it fell harmlessly on the grey carpet of my bedroom floor, just beside my computer desk.
I ran my fingers through my damp hair and clasped them at the back of my head, pulling at my hair. I clamped my eyes shut and growled lowly in my throat.
Then I heard the sound of my Fathers raised voice from the kitchen.
I looked up, eyes narrowed, and waited. He didnt yell again. He never yelled. I walked to my sofa and grabbed the grey track suit pants that were hanging over it and pulled them on before pushing open the door to the hall and marching back into the kitchen.
Did you just- I began as I walked into the dim light. I stopped myself from finishing as my Father was staring directly at me. So was the tall, balding man in an unkempt suit and black goatee who stood opposite him.
He smiled at me. Wide.
Whos this? I asked. My Father and the tall man exchanged a look.
This is William. Hes an old friend. My Father told me. He took a moment, but he lifted a hand and gestured to the tall man, William this is my son, Edmund.
I pondered for a moment how strenuous it had to have been for my Father to acknowledge the relationship between he and I, but then William stamped along the floor toward me, shooting out his long arm, and clasping my idle hand in a firm greeting.
He craned his head, leering over me and grinning wide with uneven, yellowed teeth. It is such a pleasure to meet you, he rasped at me. I managed to prevent my face from screwing up in response to his rancid breath.
Same here. I said to him, pointedly prying my hand from his slippery grasp and stepping away. Sorry I interrupted. I said at my Father. I heard raised voices.
They exchanged another look, but neither of them said anything.
Well. I said at length. Ill leave you both to it. I turned around and began to head back to my room.
Edmund. My Father addressed me. I paused and turned around, crossing my arms over my bare chest. It was cold in here.
Yes?
William My Father looked to the back of the tall mans head. His friends eyes were fixed squarely on me. I didnt like it. They held a predatory quality. William has given me a business proposal. Hed like me to invest in a franchise of Night Clubs across the country.
There was silence, then I realized that he actually wanted to hear me say something on the matter. I settled with; really?
Yes, William said, rubbing his oily hands together in front of him. Ive only opened one so far, but Im lacking the funding Your Father, unfortunately, isnt too sure on the marketing value of the type of atmosphere Im offering.
Thats a shame. I replied.
Mmm. My Father groaned. Id like you to go and have a look. Tell me what you think Tell me if its the type of place people your age would like to attend.
William grinned wide at me again.
I took a moment, scrutinizing my Father and his friend. You want me to do something?
Youre an adult, Edmund. My Father said. Dont you think its time you explored the family business?
William had his eyes on me, practically pleading for my compliance.
I sighed, goose bumps littering my arms. Where is it?
Little Collins Street. William informed me.
Whats it called?
Eternal.
Sounds lame.
Its not.
My Father pursed his lips. Well, Edmund? Will you do this for me?
I was about to reply, but William answered my thoughts, free entry of course. He said. Free drinks all night. Anything else youd like, youll obviously have access to.
Whatever. I said, and turned around, beginning to pace back to my room.
So youll do it? William rasped after me.
Yes!
I slammed the door shut behind me, stepping down into the warmth of my room. Throughout my life, my Father had never once offered an idea for my career. All hed ever done was tell me what I couldnt do.
It felt strange, that he suddenly wanted to open the door to what he called the family business. Hed never used those words before in his life.
But when I looked up Williams club on the internet, I couldnt help but smile.
Just maybe Eternal would become my favourite place.
The question caused his hand to take pause midway between his risotto and half-open mouth. He furrowed his ancient brow and decided to rest his rice-laden fork on the plate. What do you mean, Edmund?
The lighting in our very modern kitchen was dimmed down. It was silent. Behind him, the stainless steel bench top and sink was lit only by the backlights above the stove. They reflected a little off the floor-to-ceiling windows to my right that looked out over the lights of the city.
My Father always dimmed the lights while we ate. The lounge was behind me, all opened up and separated not at all from the kitchen. On the high ceiling above me, the fan was turning slowly to work away the slight mist that dinner had caused.
I reached over my Vera Wang china bowl of rice and vegetables and took up my glass of beer while I kept staring at the old man sitting across from me on our long table. Your favourite place. I told him. Where is it?
He seemed confused. Either by the nature of the question, or the fact that Id chosen to break my otherwise textbook silence this evening.
Thats a very broad question, Edmund. He told me, dabbing at the corner of his sagging mouth with a Country Road hand towel. Salt and pepper stubble was beginning to sprout over his shrivelled cheeks.
It must be, I agreed, idly stirring my risotto, seeing as youve been all over the world.
He let out a single laugh, and even smiled for a moment before sipping his wine. Not all over.
I took a pull of my beer. Ever been to Brazil?
Twice last year. He told me. You knew that.
Italy?
He took a moment, swirling his tongue through a mouthful of bloody liquid, before audibly swallowing and placing the glass down carefully on the coaster. Yes.
America?
Just what is this about, Edmund? He said sternly, placing his elbows on the table and linking his fingers, staring through the twilight darkness at me.
I shrugged, and prodded a piece of broccoli with my fork. Im just curious. I mean, you say youve been everywhere, why settle in Melbourne? This place is boring.
Oh, he sighed with a knowing glance as he lifted up his fork once again and sifted through his almost empty plate. Thats what this is about. Youre bored. You want to go overseas? Weve been through this, Edmund.
I dont want to go overseas I murmured under my breath and glared down at my plate, bringing my beer to my lips again. My Father once promised me that if I got dux in my last year of high school, that hed pay for me to go anywhere I wanted.
For some reason, I always thought hed made that deal because he knew I wouldnt achieve it.
I stood up, and pushed my chair in behind me.
Where are you going? He inquired. Youve barely eaten.
He remained silent as he watched me walk out of the kitchen and down the hall, past the staircase leading to the next floor, and turn right, opening the door and walking down the three carpeted steps into my bedroom.
I didnt want to go overseas. But he was right about one thing; I was bored.
And for the life of me, I couldnt think of where Id want to go to console myself. I couldnt think of a favourite place I had where I could just relax and reflect on life.
I didnt have a batcave, or a fortress of solitude.
And apparently, neither did my Father.
I pulled my t-shirt over my head and walked past my lemon-scented bed to my ensuite bathroom. I stepped into the white-tiled shower and let the searing hot water pound down on me.
My mind wondered.
I was in a place I shouldnt have been.
The hall was drab, dirty and cream-coloured. I could feel the rough texture of the paint as I ran my hands along the walls. The thumping of the music somewhere else in the house was muffled by the distance and the rooms that surrounded me.
I am fourteen years old.
It was dark, and the light above me kept flickering as it struggled to clutch onto life. My tongue traced out from my mouth to trickle over my lips. My body was pudgier then, but my face was still trim, attractive. I wore my hair in a crew-cut. Everyone at school was doing it.
The bathroom door burst open suddenly, and two guys walked out, both laughing hysterically. They were so big then, but they cant have been older than eighteen. They each had half-filled bottles of beer in their hands and they kept cackling, padding down the hall right past me. I pressed my body against the wall as they went.
The door was left open, and I slowly approached. The bathroom was white, once. It was a dull grey colour now, the tile grooves caked with grime, and the base of the sink was green. It was only small, a bathtub-shower to my left, the sink and medicine cabinet to my right, the toilet directly opposite the door.
I only noticed these details on the outskirts of my vision, as my eyes had been drawn to the tub, and the precious treasure that lay within. The bath was a fabled, chrome chest, and the body my lost, pirate-gold.
She was young, younger than the boys, anyway. She wasnt much older than me, maybe a year or two, it was hard for me to tell ages back then, especially outside of school, where they didnt wear uniforms.
Daintily, I approached, and my breath was held within my body, as if I were frightened to release it, in case it woke her. Id never seen anything like it before, and it reached out to me from a place I couldnt see, and wrapped around my heart.
It poisoned my mind, and pulled me into a vortex that whisked me away to a place from which Ive never returned, but have begged to be released from.
She stirred only slightly as gazed down at her.
Her eyes were half lidded, her dirty-blonde hair wet and clinging to a tan face that still held the roundness of youth. Her lips were full, and precious, and were parted only slightly. She was on her back, in the tub, her feet flat below her, knees in the air.
Her legs were bare. Such soft skin, a small freckle here and there, not a ripple of fat, but still solid and beautiful. She wore no pants, but simple, blue cotton underwear. Id never seen a girl so bare in my life.
She had a t-shirt on, tight around her trim upper-body, her breasts were still developing, but at the time they were two glorious mounds hidden beneath the thinnest, softest white cotton.
She stirred again, and the bottle of Smirnoff Vodka in her hand clanked hard against the ceramic tub interior. She muttered something I couldnt hear.
W-, still so young, I hadnt grown into my tongue yet. What did you say? I mean, pardon?
Close the door! she managed, her abdominal muscles heaving to push the words out of her lips, contorted with frustration.
I spun around, quickly grasping at the door handle, and pulling it in until it clicked shut. When I turned, shed managed to have opened her eyes. She was looking at me, and I looked back at her.
We held each others gaze, our minds unwittingly at a contest with each other. Without speaking, we were both deciding what exactly was going to happen. She was thinking of what to say, I was thinking of how I would react. I wasnt supposed to be here.
She knew that.
And she liked it.
Help me up, she uttered, dropping the bottle next to her as more of the clear liquid trailed out the open lid, down onto her legs and then into the drain. She extended her hands to me, palms out, fingers spread.
I remember thinking how cute her fingers looked as they clasped the air before me, like a small child wantonly pleading for its Mother.
I took her hands in mine, and felt her soft skin as I helped her from the tub. I was taller than her, but it was clear she was still a little older than me. She had trouble standing at first, and I held her up, her feet uneven beneath her, legs refusing to take her weight.
Maybe, I muttered after a moment, you should sit down? She made a motion which I decided was a nod, mainly because I hadnt the strength to continue holding her at the time. She plonked down onto the toilet, seat down and leant back, looking up at me, dazed.
I dont know you. She decided.
I dont know you either. I managed, with a boyish chuckle.
Youre too young to be at this party... she groaned, and pushed herself up onto the toilet a little more. You someones brother?
I shook my head. No, I scratched my arm. I dont think Im too young though.
She chuckled a little and leaned back again, looking up to me, some of her hair still plastered to her face. Youre probably not how old are you?
Sixteen. I lied.
Jeez I thought you might have been younger. She groaned and sniffed, closing her eyes.
A few moments passed in silence, and I kept my eyes off her body as best I could, and decided to watch what remained of the vodka trickle down the drain. It looked no different than water at the bottom of the tub.
Is that how old you are? I asked, slowly turning to look at her. Sixteen?
She nodded.
Isnt this someones eighteenth? I asked.
It is. Fred Paulson. She screwed her nose up, and spat in the sink. Get me a water?
I turned and looked to the sink. I turned the tap on and made sure it was cold. I opened the medicine cabinet and took out the glass that the Paulson family used to clean their teeth. Filling it, I turned the tap off and passed the cup to her.
Enticing fingertips brushed over mine.
She drank the water down in one go, and I watched the gentle muscles of her throat work over and over as she swallowed down the sweet nectar. When the glass was drained, she wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, and asked for more, a sultry look in her eye met me.
I felt something inside me pull, and twist. I was shackled in this vortex of pleasure, and I knew then that I always wanted eyes like that on me. I wanted them needing me. Needing something from me. I wanted them again, and I didnt want her lustful gaze turned away.
So I gave her what she wanted, and she sipped lovingly on the liquid, sniffing slightly again.
I leaned back on the door of the bathroom, and watched her. She was making me thirsty, just the sight of her.
Whats your name?
Eddie. I told her.
She looked me up and down. You one of those Saint Kevins boys as well?
I nodded.
Must be hard, not getting to talk with girls much. She said, tilting her head slightly to the side as she looked up at me.
Not really. I said, trying to sound confident. In truth, it was awkward. Socializing with the opposite sex was something we definitely werent taught in school.
She smiled at me. Are you nervous, Eddie?
I laughed a bit to hide my embarrassment. What? No Course not.
Its not hard to talk to girls you know. She said, pressing the glass to her warm forehead. You just need to know what youre talking about. I supposed thats hard, if you havent done it before, huh?
Ive talked to girls. I said, defensively, but took pause, and nodded. But yeah, I guess I know what you mean.
Her eyes were still glossy with the haze of alcohol. I was too young to figure out why she was in the bathroom, but now I can only guess it was because she passed out, and someone put her in the shower to try and rouse her.
Droplets of water fell from her hair onto her white top.
Youre looking at me. She said.
What? I shrugged, and pointedly looked back to the bathtub.
Do you want to kiss me, Eddie? she asked. I sucked both my lips into my mouth and looked to her. She was smirking drunkenly, wickedly. She wasnt thinking straight, clearly. She was being silly, she was being drunk.
I hadnt had a drop all night, and I wasnt above doing what I could to get that look from her.
Yes, I told her.
She gestured me closer, and slowly I went. She tasted like vomit and liquor and spit and sex. And I knelt between her legs in that bathroom, and when things escalated, she guided me, and blinded as she was by her own loss.
What she wanted from me was what she thought she needed. It went to show me how people work. Abandoned she was, half naked, wet in a bathtub of a strangers house, rescued by a boy she didnt know. She was determined to show herself she needed this, that she wanted this.
And I gave her the best thirty seconds of her dismal, little life.
I twisted the tap of the shower, turning it off and leaving me dripping little echoes in the chrome room, filled with fog. I sniffed and ran my hand over my forehead, slicking my sopping wet hair back over my skull as I stepped out onto the heated tiles and towelled myself off.
The Vodka Girl at the party was responsible for what I had become. She was responsible for solidifying me into a simple medium of boring, repetitive work. I crave that look in the eyes of women, and in my darker hours it makes me sick that I can get it from them so easily.
You almost feel sorry for them.
Vodka Girl had shackled me in the deep recesses of the most basic desires of my mind. I wanted her, I got her. It was the one thing God ever gave me, but now, I dont want it. I felt like I was an addict, and as much as I wanted to try something else, I couldnt find the strength to get off what I could so easily score.
I was only dripping a little bit when I walked back into my dimly lit bedroom. The lights of Melbourne filtering in through my walls flickered and blinked. I slumped naked onto the thick, feather pillows of my bed and let out a helpless groan.
My sheets. They smelled like lemon.
I sat up and shook my head. Seizing up the pillow Phoebe had slept on and hurled it across the room, where it fell harmlessly on the grey carpet of my bedroom floor, just beside my computer desk.
I ran my fingers through my damp hair and clasped them at the back of my head, pulling at my hair. I clamped my eyes shut and growled lowly in my throat.
Then I heard the sound of my Fathers raised voice from the kitchen.
I looked up, eyes narrowed, and waited. He didnt yell again. He never yelled. I walked to my sofa and grabbed the grey track suit pants that were hanging over it and pulled them on before pushing open the door to the hall and marching back into the kitchen.
Did you just- I began as I walked into the dim light. I stopped myself from finishing as my Father was staring directly at me. So was the tall, balding man in an unkempt suit and black goatee who stood opposite him.
He smiled at me. Wide.
Whos this? I asked. My Father and the tall man exchanged a look.
This is William. Hes an old friend. My Father told me. He took a moment, but he lifted a hand and gestured to the tall man, William this is my son, Edmund.
I pondered for a moment how strenuous it had to have been for my Father to acknowledge the relationship between he and I, but then William stamped along the floor toward me, shooting out his long arm, and clasping my idle hand in a firm greeting.
He craned his head, leering over me and grinning wide with uneven, yellowed teeth. It is such a pleasure to meet you, he rasped at me. I managed to prevent my face from screwing up in response to his rancid breath.
Same here. I said to him, pointedly prying my hand from his slippery grasp and stepping away. Sorry I interrupted. I said at my Father. I heard raised voices.
They exchanged another look, but neither of them said anything.
Well. I said at length. Ill leave you both to it. I turned around and began to head back to my room.
Edmund. My Father addressed me. I paused and turned around, crossing my arms over my bare chest. It was cold in here.
Yes?
William My Father looked to the back of the tall mans head. His friends eyes were fixed squarely on me. I didnt like it. They held a predatory quality. William has given me a business proposal. Hed like me to invest in a franchise of Night Clubs across the country.
There was silence, then I realized that he actually wanted to hear me say something on the matter. I settled with; really?
Yes, William said, rubbing his oily hands together in front of him. Ive only opened one so far, but Im lacking the funding Your Father, unfortunately, isnt too sure on the marketing value of the type of atmosphere Im offering.
Thats a shame. I replied.
Mmm. My Father groaned. Id like you to go and have a look. Tell me what you think Tell me if its the type of place people your age would like to attend.
William grinned wide at me again.
I took a moment, scrutinizing my Father and his friend. You want me to do something?
Youre an adult, Edmund. My Father said. Dont you think its time you explored the family business?
William had his eyes on me, practically pleading for my compliance.
I sighed, goose bumps littering my arms. Where is it?
Little Collins Street. William informed me.
Whats it called?
Eternal.
Sounds lame.
Its not.
My Father pursed his lips. Well, Edmund? Will you do this for me?
I was about to reply, but William answered my thoughts, free entry of course. He said. Free drinks all night. Anything else youd like, youll obviously have access to.
Whatever. I said, and turned around, beginning to pace back to my room.
So youll do it? William rasped after me.
Yes!
I slammed the door shut behind me, stepping down into the warmth of my room. Throughout my life, my Father had never once offered an idea for my career. All hed ever done was tell me what I couldnt do.
It felt strange, that he suddenly wanted to open the door to what he called the family business. Hed never used those words before in his life.
But when I looked up Williams club on the internet, I couldnt help but smile.
Just maybe Eternal would become my favourite place.