y at his son's declaration. The a

r understand what it truly meant to

nger, the grit, the relentless ambit

wasn't just that Michael didn't want to follow his fo

hardships, the same hunger that Ch

ut food, shelter, or the future. To him, the idea of slaving away for

a long, slow breath, his body sagging as th

what it means to lead, Michael. To

the frustration still pulsing throu

ea, though Charles would never admit it. A pl

ent his life building. Michael stood in silence for a moment, hi

to live up to something that had nev

over," Michael said, his voice quiet

he sprawling grounds below. The bea

wns-it was all his, a world his fa

ped. But Charles had never understood that. He had nev

h and responsibility. Michael wanted

ing he did. "I'm not ready," Michael said softly, his wor

said nothing in response, the silence between

ze following Michael's movements

e fact that they were worlds apart. It wasn't the first time Charles h

y were a family united by purpose, each member playing their part in

ed his vision and understood the sa

rrevocably changed everything. He had lost the woman who had helped

else-someone harder, more drive

hard for, and for that, Michael had to take over, whether he was ready or not. But as he loo

s had taken him away from him, and

make him into the man

ried to mold Michael into someone

ut perhaps that was never meant to

ted. Michael turned his back to the window, his face

d away. For all the riches and lux

, in his heart, a part of him wished things could have been different. He didn't want to hurt his father,

at the man who had shaped his life,

f love, no amount of explanation,

ther who had given everything to his son, only to realize that it might never be enough. The torch had to be passed, but Michael wasn't ready

if each step bore the weight of a

ed with such hope, he exited, leavi

the door close behind him, the fai

felt colder now, as though Charl

his father's retreating figure for a moment

an erratic, unpredictable rhythm,

y seemed to reflect his inner turmo

ed into the air, their brief lives mirrored by his own fleeting moments of peace. "Why can't

in him, twisting his insides into kn

entment. "He's never even cared t

like venom, sour and sharp. A dull ache beg

ged. It was a hollow pain, deep and

ht to share in that grief. Michael's breath quickened, a surge of

s. The flames before him grew wild

o be such a damn pain in the ass, always talking about legacy, and tradition... and..." Michael's

but he didn't see it anymore. The flames had become a blur, a reflection of the storm raging inside him. With a deep, shuddering sigh, he stood there, shoulders heaving, trying to reign in the chaos of his thoughts.

cold air in the room seemed to press in on him, bu

e him feel so small. He let his han

d beneath a heavier, darker sorrow. "Why won't he just see?" Michael th

tting back balance on his two feet and fro

the large room to get a sense of b

would help my teased cranium. At least

get him the drink. It's like he knew how bitter things were g

ntinually loomed ahead he grabbed wh

the paths of the garden headed to the pool he

im, if that's going to change anything. Look

ty work or like a robot with no othe

essed bitterly and outwardly to the

r's ears. "Uh... me? Are you referring to me sir? If you

n muttered, with Michael's frigid bo

"Baargh! Never mind." Michael says as

d falling with shallow breaths as t

hevelled dark hair, shaking his he

nt and unsure of how to proceed, stood a f

ed to him, his sharp gray eyes soft

e said, his voice quieter now, almost resigned. The footman nodded quickly

at a slower pace, his shoes crunchin

. The air was heavy with the scent

He reached the pool and sat down heavily on one of the lounge chairs, staring at the shimmering blue water.

sense

and took a long sip, the crisp burn

houghts. But as his gaze fell on t

evisit. Michael stayed by the pool long after Charles lef

ir, gripping the ginger ale bottle l

le clarity. Maybe it wasn't just about him, Michael though

asn't one to dwell for too long. Whining wasn't in

apped in a man's world. He tossed t

has to be more than this, he mused. More than thi

or him. For a moment, he considered diving into the pool,

e stood, smoothing the creases fro

ore him, its grandeur both a testament t

ael paused at the door, glancing b

liamson stood in his private chambers,

ad loosened his tie, the top butto

stately, much like the man himself. Heavy oak f

leadership, and history. But amid

traces of Eleanor-a delicate porce

Charles stared at the photograph as he sipped his dri

hael, barely three at the time, had

ith a heavy sigh, Charles set the glass down and sa

ther in a long string of clashes between him and Michael. But what troubled him wasn't the shouting or the rebellion-it was the gro

the insecurity and instability he

the man he wanted to become. Was I too hard on him? The thought c

thers couldn't. But when it came to Michael, he often found himse