Rise Of The Rightful Heir

Tears Of The Forgotten

After the boss handed out the tips as promised, most of the staff began heading home. Laxus stayed behind. He had picked up a few extra hours to add to his income, something he had worked out with the boss earlier. The restaurant had quieted down, leaving Laxus with a bit of solitude to finish up his shift.

Once he finished the bulk of his tasks, Laxus headed to the small break room. Exhaustion weighed on him after the long day, so he decided to rest for a bit. He climbed onto the top bunk, shifting around to get comfortable. But no matter how he positioned himself, sleep wouldn’t come. His thoughts were too loud, and the cot was nothing like his bed back home.

Frustrated, Laxus pulled out his phone, hoping to pass the time. As he scrolled through social media, an article about his family, the Kinkaids, caught his eye. His heart sank. The headline brought back memories he’d tried hard to leave behind. Curiosity got the better of him, and he clicked on the article.

Photos of his family flashed across the screen. One in particular made his stomach drop. His half-brother Luther and Linnie, his ex-fiancée, were smiling together. They looked far too happy, their smiles too genuine. The image stirred old wounds that hadn’t healed. Linnie had chosen Luther over him, and Laxus had been left alone, forgotten.

As he kept scrolling, another photo hit him harder. Luther and Linnie were kissing, their affection on full display. Laxus had suspected something between them long before his father’s announcement, but seeing it confirmed made everything worse. He could have been on his honeymoon with her by now, but she had left him for his brother. He chuckled bitterly, of course, Luther had everything Laxus didn’t. A perfect life, doting parents, and now the woman he had loved.

The next photo was of the entire Kinkaid family, including his father and mother. They looked content, even without him. Laxus felt a sharp pang in his chest. It was clear they hadn’t missed him at all. Since he left, no one had reached out, not even to check if he was okay. As long as he had been increasing sales for the company, that’s all they cared about.

Linnie looked more beautiful than ever, seemingly unaffected by his absence. Their last meeting had been ugly, but now she looked as if that encounter hadn’t even crossed her mind. And why would it? She had moved on with Luther, building a life that Laxus should have had.

Then he saw the headline that Luther and Linnie were celebrating their one-year anniversary. Laxus hadn’t realized he had been gone that long. A full year away from their toxicity, but in a strange way, he still missed them. They were his family, after all. Despite the betrayal and the coldness, he couldn’t entirely erase his feelings for them.

Tears welled up in his eyes. The hurt, the betrayal, and the sense of being unwanted came rushing back, overwhelming him. He quickly switched off his phone and tossed it onto the bed. It would’ve been better if he hadn’t gone online. Now, the painful memories had returned with full force.

Laxus sighed, annoyed at himself. He shouldn’t have dug into the past like that. In a burst of frustration, he jumped down from the bunk, grabbed a hoodie he kept in the break room, and slipped out the back door of the restaurant. The main entrance was locked, so the back was the only way out.

He couldn’t hold on the pain any longer. It hit him all at once, suffocating him. Desperate to escape his thoughts, Laxus headed to a nearby bar. He needed something to numb the ache in his chest, something to make him forget, even if only for a while.

At the bar, he ordered a beer and retreated to a corner booth, hiding from the world. As he sipped his drink, tears fell freely. He was lost in his own sorrow, consumed by the weight of everything he had seen and felt. All he wanted was for the pain to go away, to forget the betrayal, and maybe one day, live a life free from the hurt he carried around.

At the bar, Mr. Bowman sat slumped over a drink, staring at an old photograph in his trembling hand. A tear rolled down his cheek, and his shoulders shook as he tried to suppress the sobs. This was his yearly ritual of returning to the same bar, drowning in sorrow, until his bodyguards eventually carried him home. He wasn’t drunk yet, but he planned to be soon.

A soft sob caught his attention, pulling him from his thoughts. Across the room, a young man sat hunched over, his head in his hands, crying. Mr. Bowman squinted, trying to place him. The face looked familiar. Then it clicked it was Laxus, the ambitious young man who worked at the restaurant he frequented. Bowman had developed a fondness for Laxus after their brief conversations about life and work. He admired the lad’s drive and intelligence, qualities he didn’t often see in young men anymore.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Mr. Bowman stood, abandoning his drink. He made his way across the bar and pulled out a chair across from Laxus. The young man looked up, his eyes red and swollen, confused by the intrusion.

“We all have our burdens,” Bowman said quietly, signaling the bartender for more drinks.

Laxus chuckled bitterly. “Yeah, don’t we all,” he muttered before downing the rest of his beer in one gulp.

Bowman studied him for a moment. “What’s weighing you down, son?”

Laxus hesitated, then sighed. ""It’s a long story. Besides, I don’t even know you.""

Bowman chuckled. ""You know me well enough. I’m the old man who can’t get enough of your burgers at the restaurant.""

Laxus’s eyes widened as he finally recognized him. ""I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it... I didn’t mean to be rude.""

“No need for apologies,” Bowman replied, waving a hand. “You recognize me now, so tell me what’s bothering you.”

Laxus sighed deeply, unsure where to begin. ""I grew up in a big mansion, everything a kid could want. My mom, my dad, and my little brother Luther. But while my brother was the golden boy, I was always treated like an outsider. One day, I accidentally broke this expensive mug my dad prized. He flew into a rage, punched me in the face, and my mom had to step in. That’s when I found out I wasn’t really his son. He was never going to see me as part of the family.""

Mr. Bowman listened intently, his heart heavy as Laxus continued.

""After that, I did everything I could to make him proud. Working for the family business made the company successful, but it was never enough. I was named heir to the Kinkaid Distillery, but it was just a title. No matter what I did, Luther was always the perfect son. I stopped expecting anything from them.""

Laxus paused to take another swig from his beer. The memories were clearly painful for him to relive, but he pressed on.

“Then I met Linnie,” he said, his voice softening. ""She was everything to me. For the first time in years, I was truly happy. I thought she loved me, but that all changed when my father summoned me to the mansion one day. He told me to give her up for Luther.""

Mr. Bowman raised an eyebrow. ""Give her up? Like she was some sort of property?""

Laxus nodded, his face twisting in bitterness. ""Exactly. I thought Linnie would never agree to it, but I was wrong. She chose Luther over me. The woman I loved and my own brother… together. That’s when I walked away from it all.""

Bowman remained silent, letting Laxus pour out his heart.

“And now, here I am,” Laxus continued. ""Today’s their anniversary. I saw pictures of them together, happy, like I never even mattered. It’s a reminder that no one ever really cared about me. Not my father, not Linnie.""

Bowman watched as Laxus emptied another bottle of beer, his sorrow consuming him. For a moment, the old man felt a strange connection to the young man. He saw a reflection of his own pain, of the son he had lost. If his son had lived, he would’ve been about Laxus’s age.

“So, here I am,” Laxus said, raising his glass with a shaky hand. “Working as a chef in a city where I don’t know anyone, just trying to survive.”

Mr. Bowman could see that Laxus had too much to drink. He was past his limit, and whatever pain he felt was now clouded by alcohol.

“Let me help you,” Bowman said softly.

Laxus looked at him through bleary eyes. ""Help me? How?”

“I have a plan,” Bowman replied, standing up. “But you need to sober up first.”

He signaled to his bodyguards, who gently lifted the half-conscious Laxus and guided him to the car. Mr. Bowman followed, his mind already turning over the possibilities. He didn’t know why, but he felt an urge to help this young man. Perhaps it was because Laxus reminded him of his own son. Or maybe it was because, deep down, he understood what it felt like to be abandoned by the ones you loved.