50. Disaster pageant pt.2

Julian's pensive gaze remained trained on his black combat boots as he casually walked on the bright red carpet leading to the Royal Monet Athenaeum's main entrance, hands shoved deep in his dress pants' pockets. A small and amused smirk tugging at the corner of his lips after what he had just witnessed. Mere seconds ago. His old man, his usually serious and brooding old man getting his ass handed to him by a sassy little cheerleader. He was fighting not to burst with laughter at the visual memory.

He noticed his father join his side from the corner of his eye, that amused and knowing smirk still gracing his lips.

"What was that all about?" He carefully prodded, purposely keeping an air of nonchalance. He was definitely in the mood of taunting him now.

He could sense that annoyed scowl making its appearance on his father's features without even looking, hearing that aggravated lilt in his voice as he gruffly responded,

"Just some bratty little kid who obviously doesn't have anything else better to do with her time,"

Julian couldn't help but let out a chuckle at the sound of that, lightly shaking his head. *Yeah, right*. As if he would ever believe that. There was definitely something more to it. Something that he was already starting to pick up on.

He could tell that his father was about to say something more regarding that weird moment between him and the bratty kid in question, but there was a shrill and seriously annoying voice that suddenly resounded from behind, calling out his name.

"Julian! Julian, honey, wait for me please!"

He inwardly cursed. His feet though planting themselves to the spot. His gaze meeting his father's questioning one.

They both looked over their shoulders, noticing the middle-aged woman hurling herself in their direction like a drunkard on walking sticks, her hands clutching at the skirt of her black evening gown, showing the way that her feet bent at awkward angles, stumbling as she struggled to run with those ridiculously high heels on the gravel path.

He could tell that his father was fighting a stupid smirk as soon as he averted his gaze back to him. But before he could even say anything the woman finally caught up with them.

"Dad, meet my former teacher, Cornelia Woodcamp. Connie, this is my father, detective Derek Hale," Julian made the introductions with a flat and uninterested tone, observing the way that his father curiously glanced between him and the teacher.

"Oh, so nice to finally meet you, detective," Connie exclaimed with the zealousness of a puppy on Adderall from between them, again with that seriously aggravating screech of hers.

He didn't really hate the lady. He was actually pretty fond of her, screeching aside. She had been his mentor after all, and the only friend he'd ever made during those three shitty years at Monet. But he had to keep the broody and unimpressed façade, otherwise he would've never heard the end of it. It was a mutual thing between him and his father. This stupid habit of constantly trying to tease each other.

"The pleasure is all mine," det. Hale smiled down at the petite older woman, making her fidget like some embarrassed pre-teen.

Ugh.

"You'll have to forgive my Lulu's little outburst, she's just a little tired, the poor little thing. She actually came back home very late last night," she rushed to excuse her daughter's bratty behaviour with a nervous little laugh, earning det. Hale's chuckle in reply.

"I know,"

Julian and Connie's expressions immediately changed a little at the sound of that, throwing det. Hale weird glances.

Wait, what?

"I mean, I know how kids are nowadays, so bratty and rebellious," the male rushed to correct himself upon realizing what he'd just said, letting out a rather forced chuckle.

But Julian however still didn't look convinced. If anything, his dad's little slip-up only added fuel to his earlier assumption. That there was in fact something more to that weird interaction between him and Connie's wildling of a daughter.

"As you can see, I have a rebel one of my own," det. Hale mirthfully added with another fake and exaggerated chuckle, effectively slapping that puzzlement off of Julian's features with a harsh "pat" on the back. The young male finding himself forced to take a step forward after that unnecessary shove from his cunning bastard of a father, throwing him a contemptuous glower. One that the poor and oblivious woman failed to notice.

"Oh, but you look so very young, detective," Connie preened at the muscular and handsome male with a giggle, touching his suit-clad arm.

It made Julian want to gag. It wasn't enough that his father had just belittled him as if he were just an angsty teen going through his emo phase but now he also had to witness this gross little interaction between him and his old teacher.

"I actually had him at a very young age," det. Hale informed her with a slight pat on the hand. Letting it rest there on his arm as he kindly smiled down at her.

Julian rolled his eyes with annoyance. Great. Now his angsty teen appearance was complete.

He swiftly turned around on his heel, still hearing his father and Connie talk from behind him as he resumed to his walking towards the entrance.

"When? Somewhere between diapers and preschool?"

"You flatter me, missis-"

"Oh, it's actually miss Woodcamp,"

*A-hee-hee-hee!* He made a face whilst keeping his back turned to them, mocking Connie's flirtatious little giggle.

*Someone fucking kill me now*, he muttered under his breath with an aggravated scowl.

"But you can call me Connie,"

"Julian already does that,"

"Oh, does he now?"

He rolled his eyes again at the sound of his father's covertly mocking tone, already knowing what was going to happen once they were alone again.

Another round of stupid jeers and taunts.

Good thing that he had an ace up his own sleeve now, thanks to his dad's earlier slip-up. He subtly smirked, pausing as he glanced around at the large salon filled with fancy-dressed people. The place was packed. It looked worse than a fucking rave party. Well, if rave parties ever had filthy rich and old broads.

A classical tune softly played in the background, few waiters strolling around with silver trays carrying drinks and appetizers, serving those rich old broads. *Awesome. This is definitely my scene,* he sarcastically muttered under his breath, letting out a small and ironic chuckle.

"Cornelia! Cornelia honey!"

He blinked as that relatively familiar voice reached his ears, from the sea of people spotting none other than Lydia's mom who was now energetically waving in his direction.

*Last time I checked, my name was still Julian*, he smirked at his own stupid joke, however deciding to taunt her a little and wave back.

The woman's previously joyful expression suddenly faltered a little, looking like she'd been struck by something as she glanced in his direction. He couldn't help but let out a small chuckle. She evidently huffed, her attention quickly averting to Connie who was now rapidly passing him by in those ridiculously high and visibly uncomfortable heels.

"I'm going to find myself a drink," he felt his father's hand giving his shoulder a mild squeeze as he told him that and he let out a small nod in reply, continuing to stand there as he aimlessly gazed at the sea of people.

He wondered where his enchantress was. It had been just a few hours since he'd lastly held her in his arms and he was already starting to miss her. He yearned nothing more than to kiss her again. To gaze upon her sweet and beautiful face.

"Julian!"

He snapped out of that little day-dream at the sound of his name being called, his gaze refocusing just in time to notice Connie waving at him with a hand. Beckoning him to approach. And she was standing right next to Lydia's mom.

"Julian, honey, come here please,"

His jaw clenched. His expression turning deadly serious. Yet he willed himself to move, lastly approaching them with a rather bored and dismissive air surrounding him.

"Lisa and I were just talking about you," Connie gushed, again with that overly-excited attitude of hers. Completely oblivious at the way the young male and the other woman kept sizing each other up. Looking like they about to start tearing into each other's throats.

"Were you now?" He muttered, barely containing his disdain for the woman standing before him. He'd definitely noticed the way that she was staring at him. His outfit. Those tattoos peeking out from underneath his black silken shirt. That cross pendant earring dangling from his left ear. Those black leather straps attached to his torso. His scar. His sturdy boots. Evident disapproval was glinting in those eyes so similar to Lydia's as she took that all in.

"Yes, I was just telling her what a wonderfully talented young man you are and she was just telling me that you're actually neighbours, isn't that wonderful?" The oblivious woman standing right next to them yapped again like a tiny dog, looking between them with a radiant smile on her face.

"Very," his jaw clenched.

"You're Reenie's kid, aren't you?" The insufferable woman finally said with a cold and toneless voice, giving him another scrutinising once-over.

His body immediately filled with rage at the sound of that, that name provoking a revolting sensation within the pit of his stomach.

"I am detective Hale's son," he spat between gritted teeth. Hands balling into tight fists at his sides. He loathed it. Whenever someone spoke about his unfortunate connection to that vile filth of a woman.

But Lisa Moore remained unimpressed. Keeping that holier-than-thou attitude as she boredly said,

"Your mom is a very successful woman. I've worked with her on a few projects in the past. She's actually very smart and resourceful,"

*And I just fucked your daughter a few hours ago. In your own home.*

"Yeah, I bet she is," he couldn't refrain himself from sneering. He was shaking. Body trembling with rage. He had to get away from there before he did something stupid like spitting her in the face.

"If you'll excuse me, ladies, I think I am going to find my father," he forced a smile. And without even waiting for them to say anything in reply he swiftly turned around and left, barely focusing on where he was going as he took deep breaths, struggling to calm himself down.

Fortunately, it didn't take long for him to stumble upon his father, noticing him sipping from a glass of whiskey on the rocks as he idled by, casually looking around.

He quickly snatched that glass from his hand and downed it down in one big gulp, earning his father's curious stare.

"Aren't you supposed to be sober for the recital?"

"Guess I need some liquid courage to get through this phony shit myself," he mumbled with a gravelly voice, staring around with disdain at the sea of all those fake-ass motherfuckers surrounding them.

His father didn't comment on that, already aware that something or rather someone must've definitely gotten under his skin to get such a reaction. So he chose to stand by and let him take a breather, casually snatching another drink from a waiter's tray passing nearby.

Neither of them spoke for the next few moments, lost into their own thoughts until a group of girls subtly approached, smiling at them and giving them small little waves.

"Hey Julian," one of them sultrily said, batting her eyelashes at him. He rudely ignored her, like always. They were girls from Lydia's school. The same group of girls who kept trying to get his attention for a while now. He would've gladly fucked some of them. If not all, had the situation been different. Had he never met his enchantress. The only girl who occupied his thoughts nowadays. His dreams. Who had his heart and his cock on a deadlock.

The girls continued to linger though, giving both him and his old man interested glances. Giggling as they talked in hushed voices.

He was about to turn to his old man and ask if he wanted to go outside to get some air when he casually noticed none other than pretty boy Mike pass them by, throwing him a curious look whilst doing so. He ignored his stupid face and tried to open his mouth again, only to suddenly notice the little shit approaching him again.

His brow rose, curiously staring down at the little fucker as he stopped right in front of him. Giving him a quick once-over.

"Hey man, what's with the doggy harness?" The little shit asks with a stupid smirk plastered all over his face, clearly referring to those black harness straps secured over his shirt.

Both him and his old man immediately burst into laughter at the sound of that, evidently amused by Mike's lame attempt to insult him.

The stupid little shit blinked, evidently perplexed by what was happening when one of the girls suddenly approached them, throwing Mike a disgusted and disbelieving glower.

"Are you fucking stupid?"

The stupid little shit could only blink again, growing even more confused. Right as another girl approached Julian's side, her tone aggravated and derisive as she uttered,

"Ignore him, papi chulo. He clearly doesn't know what fashion is,"

"Yeah, he wouldn't be able to tell what it is even if it hit him in the face," the other girl added, making the little shit unwillingly shrink under their hateful glowers. And before he could even realize what he was doing he was already turning around, tail tucked between his legs as he left.

The girls returned to their chatty little clique, hearing his father chuckle from right next to him.

"Now I get it,"

"Chicks actually dig this..." he waved a hand in his direction, pointing at his non-conventional outfit.

"...Whatever this is," he finished and Julian chuckled in reply, lightly shaking his head.

"Maybe I should try it," his father comically suggested with a smirk, earning Julian's interested look.

"Why, are you planning to impress a certain bratty little girl?" Julian playfully jabbed at his old man with a smirk of his own and a wiggle of his brows, watching him express a disgusted grimace.

"God, no. She's half my age, you weirdo,"

Derek gave him a small shove and he laughed, deciding to taunt him some more as he shot back,

"It didn't stop you from caging her in like that,"

"You were all over her, man,"

"Ugh, look at me, little girl, I'm all big and growly and I'm trying to impress you with my big and hairy chest," he comically muttered with a grungy voice in a mocking attempt to sound like his dad, expressing an overly-exaggerated frown.

"Shut up," Derek muttered in reply with aggravation, giving his boy another shove. The young man laughed again.