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As had happened so often lately, Benjamin felt the all too familiar tingle of fear in his chest. He held his grandfather’s hand as if letting go would see him float away. The room felt hot.
“I’m alright, son. I just—yes!” His grandfather exclaimed, beaming with excitement. The sudden switch in emotions was jarring for Benjamin.
“Am I missing something, grandpa?” he asked with a soft voice.
“Yes, yes,” his grandfather said, waving his hand in the air. “There is a world out there in need; a world that has helped me become the great man I am today. I want to give back to that world, Benjamin. I have arranged for a big charity event here on Sunday. Every heavy checkbook of New York will be there.”
“That’s great... but Sunday?” Benjamin muttered. He already had plans for that Sunday evening.
“Yes, this weekend. It’s going to be a very big deal and it will be a part of my legacy. You will be there, won’t you?”
Darn it.
“Of course… is that what you wanted to talk to me about?”
His grandfather nodded. “Amongst other things.”
“What is the other important issue you wanted to talk to me about?”
“As yes, that,” his grandpa took another sip from his whiskey. “Nothing to worry about. You’ll find out soon enough. I want you at that event. It’s going to be big and I need you there, not just for appearances, all right?”
“Yes, sir.”
His grandfather let out a soft sigh and made his way to the bed that had been placed in the study for him. Benjamin followed and tried to give him a hand, but his grandfather kept slapping him away and reminded him that he wasn’t exactly dead yet.
Benjamin left the room thinking of his grandfather’s vague words and that charity event on Sunday. Why Sunday? He hated those gatherings, and he had been looking forward to meeting with his friends for a change. A nice distraction from home life. Well, that was that.
His grandfather was his priority—no doubt about it.
Benjamin stared at the mirror as he adjusted his bowtie. His hair was combed neatly, and he’d shaved off his stubble. He’d inherited his father’s great looks, at least according to the ladies who often describe him as ‘incredibly handsome,’ even ‘breathtaking’ at times.
He let out a sigh and promised himself that he would take off as soon as he got the chance. These events were tiresome. Rich people pretending they cared about others as they dropped chunks of change into a hat, feeling good about themselves. Not that Ben was known for his work with charity, but he also didn’t play Ghandi at these events touting about money he donated on TV, like many others he could name. If he would ever give something, he would only do so if it came from his heart without making a big fuss about it.
“Definitely, worth the trouble,” he complemented himself and frowned when his phone rang. He walked over to see who was calling.
“Roger,” he muttered and scoffed. He still felt bad for cancelling on such short notice on his friend, so he decided to pick up.
“Hey, Roger. I’m kind of busy right now.”
“I know, the local news is buzzing about it,” Roger’s loud voice screamed through the phone.
“Yeah, I’m not surprised. When Elijah Radcliff does something, the whole world stops to see what it is.” He blew out his cheeks and sat on the bed.
“I guess that really means you aren’t going to join us tonight?”
“Nope. My grandfather really wants me there.”
“Yeah, we totally understand,” Roger said sounding harried and out of breath. Ben almost couldn’t hear him.
“Roger?” He sputtered and leaned forward. "Are you skydiving while making this call? I can barely hear you.”
He could almost see Roger’s eyes roll.
"I just wanted to call and see if you want to cut that fundraiser short and come out afterwards or something. Nothing better to help with losing a loved one than booze," Roger joked.
Benjamin grew silent. Was this call real or was he imagining it? He had known Roger for years; they had met at a VIP party in Paris. This was the first time that their friendship would be tested by tragedy—and so far it did not look good.
"Ben, you still there?”
