The Affection Multiplier - Chapter 157: Family reunion. (Patreon)

You open the door and see how his office looks like. The back wall is completely made of glass, allowing for a spectacular view of the neighborhood. The floor is a cream colored carpet, a small chandelier on the ceiling, a full row of shelves full of books and folders on the east wall and a huge mahogany desk close to the window wall. 

Your father is working on the computer even as you enter. He writes something on a small note before finally turning to you.

“Take a seat, David.” He points to the seat across from him, a fancy wooden chair.

It seems like your father hasn’t changed much. Oscar Walker is still a tall, imposing man. Being 62 years old, his wrinkles are already showing, yet he doesn’t hide them. Even sitting there he looks proud and full of energy. His once blonde hair is getting whiter, however, matching his stubble beard. He adjusts his thin-framed glasses as he gets more comfortable on his seat.

“How was the trip?” He asks calmly, interlacing his fingers and resting his elbows on the desk.

“Comfortable, if a bit too ostentatious for my liking.” You tell him.

“Would you have preferred a 20-hour flight in the economy class?”

“I wouldn’t have minded.”

“Hmm.” 

It’s strange being in front of your father again. It’s true that you’d describe him as intimidating, but he doesn’t feel that way to you very often. Calling him approachable would be an overstatement, but he’s not a monster. Still, this feels more like a business meeting rather than a father-son reunion.

“You already e-mailed me your Midterm results, so let me congratulate you on them. When are you getting your final results?” 

“At the end of this week, either on Thursday or Friday.”

“Your feelings on it?”

“I sprained by ankle in an accident the week before the tests, so I missed some classes. However, I tried to make up by studying more at home. While I have reasons to believe these tests were above the usual level for the academy, I’m still confident in my results.”

“I suppose we will see Remember, the better your results, the easier it’ll be to get into the best universities. Any questions?”

“A couple. Why did you have me come here before classes ended properly?”

“I need you here for something. I’ll fill you in tomorrow.”

He needs you here? What could he ever need you for? It makes you both curious and nervous.

“Very well. And for my second question. Why did you send me to Hayes Academy? Was it so important that you’d go back on your deal with the headmistress?”

You want to believe your experiences the past few months have made you better at reading people. You’ve been actively looking for cues that would give you a hint on how well or how bad your actions are received, and then confirm that with the AMA. It’s only because of that that you think you noticed the faintest hint of a smile on your father’s face.

“Would you agree with the statement that you weren’t mentally ready for university after you graduated from high school?” He asks while staring at you firmly.

…

“…Yes.”

It was simply a matter of maturity. Your brother told you your father’s reasons. You’d always had things too easy. High School wasn’t a challenge in any way, not intellectually nor socially.

Yet Hayes Academy challenges you in both aspects. No, it almost overwhelmed you in the social side.

“I sent you to that academy so you would grow up. I know full well the grudge Elena Hayes has against me. I sent you there partially because of it. Do you hate me for it?”

He doesn’t even flinch when asking the question. It’s almost a challenge.

“Almost.” You tell him. “It’d be hard to tell you how difficult things were at first.”

“But now they’re not?”

“They still are, but I can manage.”

“Then that’s better than I expected.” Your father’s eyes brim with confidence and… holy shit is that pride!? His lips curl into a faint smirk as he continues. “Now that you’ve come this far, I can tell you, son, that you were allowed to fail.”

…

…

“Excuse me?”

“If at any point you’d called us and told us you wanted out, I would’ve allowed it. What I wanted was for you to experience, if only for a moment, the harshest conditions possible. Yet I only need to see the way you carry yourself now and the way you talk to me, not to mention your physical changes, to know that you’ve completely surpassed my expectations.”

…

You slump back in the chair, strength and tension leaving your body. You can only stare at the ceiling, your mind processing what your father just told you. Yet the more you think, the more your body starts tensing up again.

“…You are one huge bastard.” You mutter, leaning forward.

“Excuse me?” Your father faintly raises his voice, clearly offended.

“I got put into a shitty, cold and rundown storage shed for a room! I was insulted, pushed around and KNEED in the GROIN by women because the headmistress wanted me out and spread rumors about me! People threw slime at me, girls made me do their homework, even girls I didn’t even know would refuse to speak to me! I slept on an old mattress, almost freezing to death every night for almost two months before one of the teachers knew what was happening! You think that was a little hardship!? It was fucking insane! I don’t care if other people have had it worse, I don’t care if you come up with a sad story of your past where you went through worse, what the hell were you on when you thought this was REMOTELY a good idea!?”

You yell, scream and rant, throwing everything you’ve bottled up. You’re well aware this won’t change anything, solve anything or help you in any way, yet every inch of your body is asking for you to let it out.

“I don’t know how I got out of it, but you’re telling me I was ‘allowed to fail’!? Do you even realize the sort of way you’ve brought us up!? It’s always ‘Here’s a problem. Now solve it.’ Not for a second did I think it’d be okay to quit, lest I come here and find you disappointed in me. Did that ever go through your head!?”

Your heart is beating like crazy. Your breathing is heavy. Your ears are burning. And for once in your life you feel so fucking relieved. You don’t even care what your father might say about this clear show of disrespect. You don’t give a damn. Let him do his worst.

You slump back on the chair once more. Your body somehow feels heavy, as if you’d just ran a marathon.

Your father remains silent as he watches you catch your breath, and when he sees you have nothing more to say, he speaks.

“Do you want me to apologize?” He asks calmly, completely unfazed by your outburst.

“I don’t care anymore.”

“Good. Then we’ll leave it at that.” He nods to himself. “I’ll overlook your outburst this time, but be more careful next time.”

“Sure, whatever.” Next time? You shake your head and stand up. Turning back towards the door, you start leaving. “Good to see you’re healthy, dad.”

“Likewise.” He answers.

You close the door behind you and sigh. Well, you feel refreshed at the very least. You get your phone out of habit and realize that it might be a good idea to open the AMA. Keyword: might. You’re kind of scared to see your dad’s score. Still, better to know.

-Walker, Jonathan-

Affection Score: 76

-Walker, Lisa-

Affection Score: 71

-Walker, Martha-

Affection Score: 75

-Walker, Oscar-

Affection Score: 82 (+6)

…

This man might be one the world’s biggest fucking mysteries.

_____________________________________________________________

You spend the rest of the day catching up with your mother and sister. Jonathan returned to his own apartment soon after getting here, saying he would have to report to your father soon and would rather spend some time resting.

While your mother asks how things have been, you already relived your frustrations on your dad, so you avoid most of the worst stories. You just tell her things were difficult at first, but that you’ve made friends now.

“I assume you got a girlfriend and that’s why you got fit. I’m right, aren’t I?” Your little sister grins teasingly, almost devilishly. You can tell by her eyes that she wants to hear everything, as does your mom, but… It feels embarrassing to tell. It’s one thing to have people you don’t know feel it’s normal to have several girlfriends, but your family?

Hell, Emily and Megan kept it a secret from their families for quite a while. Maybe you should learn from them and just be honest.

…

Yeah, but not today. You need to mentally prepare a bit more. You’ll do it for sure before leaving, but not now. You dismiss the question by talking about how shitty your room was before it got fixed and it seems to work. Martha can’t imagine living in a place like that, even for a week.

You just hope she never has to.

______________________________________________________________

After that and having a really good but sadly western lunch with the women of the house (since your father left for work), Martha says she wants to show you around the neighborhood. You’re curious, so you put on a jacket to brace the cold and go with her.

And man, this really is like one your Japanese animes. Of course, it makes sense that artists from this country would be able to accurately represent their own general aesthetics, but still, you almost feel like you’ve seen the place already.

Regrettably, you can’t really see most of the houses since they’re behind tall, concrete walls. But the trees behind them, the clean, narrow streets meant solely for pedestrians and unreadable signs really makes this feel odd in a really cool sort of way.

“Brother, you have to try this!” Martha says, pulling on your jacket and pointing to a small store.

“Is that what I think it is?” You can’t help the smile that forms on your face as you ask that.

It’s simple, and you’re sure there must be millions of these across the country, but you still get a little excited to see a vending machine here. You’ve heard a lot about these, and just taking a peak of the insane variety of drinks this one has makes you laugh.

“Oh my god, please tell me I’m not wrong and that is actually hot corn soup in a can.” You ask Martha.

“Yeah, it is!” She laughs along with you. “I was shocked to see it the first time, so I bought one and they’re gross!”

“Are they?” You ask, a little disappointed.

“Yes! Mom likes them, but I think they’re disgusting!”

“Well, you’ve always been a picky eater.” You chuckle. You want to buy something before you realize you don’t have any Japanese coins or bills.

“Alright, this the one and only time I treat you to something while you’re here!” Martha pouts and she gets some coins out of her jacket’s pocket. “What do you want?”

“…” You look at all the drinks before finally deciding on The One and pointing to it with your finger.

“… Really, brother?” Martha looks at you with an unamused expression. “Of all the weird things you can try, you go for black coffee?”

“I like coffee.” You defend yourself.

While your sister clearly disapproves, she puts in the money in and buys a black coffee for you and a milk coffee for herself.

The hot coffee doesn’t come in a can, apparently, but in a small bottle. It feels great to wrap your hands around it and feel the warmth. Before opening it, you take a picture of it and send it to the group chat with the caption “hot coffee!”

“Okay, you’ve never been one to take pictures of things and share them. What’s going on?” Martha asks with a suspicious look.

You sigh before deciding if it would be good to tell her. Maybe it would be good to test the waters?

“Can you keep a secret?”

“I love secrets! You haven’t let me keep one of your secrets in years!” She says enthusiastically.

“I don’t have many secrets.” You open the bottle and take a tentative sip. It’s good black coffee. Hot enough to warm you up and not enough to burn your tongue. Not much more you can say, but you can see yourself buying this every day if you had a machine like this nearby.

“…I have five girlfriends.” You say before even considering if you should’ve kept Emma and Mia a secret from her.

“You what!? Five!?” Martha seems taken aback by the revelation. Her eyes go wide and her jaw drops.

“A lot of things happened.” You smile sheepishly.

“Clearly you left a lot of things out before.”

“I did.” You nod. “Some things I’d rather keep to myself. I told dad some of them, though. Yelled at him, too.” You chuckle.

“…” She looks at you as if you’d gone completely crazy. “How are you still alive?”

“You of all people don’t have the right to ask that, ‘daddy’s little girl’.”

“You’re just jealous I can get away with anything.” She grins.

“Clearly not anything. Tell me, do YOU have a boyfriend?” It’s your turn to smirk, as you’re sure you know the answer.

“…” her smile falls as she glares at you, unamused. “Low blow, Dave.”

“Is dad still scaring everyone away?”

“Yeah! It’s the one thing he won’t let me do! I hate it!” Martha pouts and stomps her foot.

You smile, sigh and shake your head. Really, you haven’t been able to play the role of overprotective brother since your dad keeps most guys away from his little girl. Instead, you’ve had to play the role of supportive older brother since Jonathan just laughs in Martha’s face, much to her frustration. You’re pretty sure those two are in cahoots.

“Have you tried dating in secret?” You suggest.

“I’ve thought about it, but I don’t want to hide! I shouldn’t have to! Besides, you know that if dad suspected something he’d hire a private detective or something.” She groans.

It sounds silly, but he would.

“Well, just wait two more years and you’ll be an adult.” You say, ruffling her hair. “I’ll try talking to him, but I make no promises. Just make sure you don’t fall for an asshole, or you’ll lose all my support.”

Martha suddenly hugs you, giggling and burying her face on your chest.

“I missed you.”

You can’t help but smile and wrap an arm around her. “Me too, Martha. Me too.”

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