Shame to Fame; The Rise of the Duderte Empire

3 - I'm an Orphan!

"Mr. Robert?"

"It's nice to see you again, Young Master." The so-called Mr. Robert said with a deep bow and a smile.

"The feeling is not mutual," Arthur replied coldly. 

"Young Master!" Mr. Robert yelled hopelessly. Arthur rolled his eyes and walked away from the man. The guards could smell the fish that reeked on his body but they did not dare to close their nostrils or say something was smelling.

Arthur noticed the uncomfortable look on their faces and a low sigh escaped his lips.

"Why are you here, Mr. Robert?" He asked parking his bicycle, his eyes on the punctured tire. How was he to repair that when he had no money for food? If only the popsicles hadn't fallen into the pool, he would have at least had them for dinner. No food was going to waste.

"Are you listening to me, Young Master?" Mr. Robert's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He looked up with a tired look, he faked a yawn and released a sigh.

"I would love to stay and chat with you, Mr. Robert, but unfortunately I'm tired from the cycling and would really like to retire for the night." 

"But-"

"Hm. I know. I know. Goodnight then." Robert said patting the man's back as he walked away.

"Your Father...!" 

The two words from the man made him put a halt to his walking with one of his feet hanging in the air over the stair he was about to ascend. The muscles in his back stiffened and his back tensed.

Slowly and dramatically, he turned around and raised a brow at Mr. Robert. The latter took it as a sign to continue.

"Your Father wants you back home. Immediately. We're here to take you home."

"Father?" He repeated in a mocking voice. 

"Father? Since when did I have a Father? You must be mistaken. I am Arthur Smithfield. I'm an Orphan. I do not have a Father."

"Young Master..."

"Stop calling me that, good sir. You have the wrong man. You truly do. Well then, Goodnight."

With this, he turned around and walked up the stairs without looking back for once. Mr Robert stood at the end of the stairs, hand gripping the railings as he watched his Young Master go up the stairs without any hint of emotion.

'He has grown so much since the last time I saw him. What has it been? 10 years? That's a decade...', he thought with a low sigh. 

His eyes traveled to the worn-out bicycle with a flattened tire. He looked back up at the door that slammed shut behind Arthur.

He pulled out his phone and dialed a number with a grim look on his face...

Arthur slammed the door behind him and let out a heavy sigh. He switched the light on and walked to his bed. The door creaked open leaving it ajar.

He had better repair that door or he might be robbed of all he had. He dropped on his foamy bed and dust flew out. He coughed waving his hand in the air to blow the dust away before it rushed into his nose.

When the dust had settled, he reached for under his bed and pulled out an album. He used his sleeve to wipe the face of the album. Three faces came into view. Two adults- A woman smiling beautifully and a Man whose face was not seen visibly due to the broken part of the album and a young boy of about 6 years smiling broadly that you could see his scattered teeth.

His hand moved up to caress the woman's face. 

"Ma..." He croaked. It was then he realized he was tearing up. 

"Mum... I miss you so much." His tear dropped on the face of the album and it slid down taking a little dust with it. 

The sight of his mother lying with her closed in the dark hospital room flashed before his eyes. All tubes were connected to her body. The only sounds in the room were muffled sniffs and the beeping of the life support machine that supported his mother's being alive. 

"Mum... When will you wake up?" 7 years old Arthur asked his sick mother lying in the hospital. 

"Mum... I miss you so much. Don't you miss me? Don't you want to see me again? Wake up and praise me again. Mum..." He cried.

A knock at the door made him look back only to see Mr. Robert at the door. But it wasn't the hospital door. It was the door to his apartment.

"Can I come in?"

"No." He replied with no emotion before wiping the tears away from his face. 

"Young Master..." Mr. Robert called but his words were cut off by the sudden darkness that overwhelmed them.

"Oh." Arthur released lowly. It was time already? Didn't he have about two more days? 

A flashlight shone straight at his face and he almost cursed. Not almost, he did.

"Are you fucking with me?! Get that stupid thing off my eyes! Trying to blind me, are you?!" He yelled shielding his eyes from the sudden lightening.

"I'm sorry, Young Master. Accept my deepest apologies." Mr. Robert apologized bending himself to incline at an excellent 90 degrees.

"I didn't say you could come in." He snapped and Mr. Robert took a step back almost immediately.

"Further."

"Let me leave this here then." Mr. Robert said waving the phone in his hand. He dropped it at the edge of the bed and took three steps back.

"Take your phone and go. I told you and that man. I am never going back to that house. He is dead to me! He doesn't have a son! Let him think of me dead! We are not family!" Arthur yelled throwing the phone to Mr. Robert.

Merely thinking back at that scene was making him very angry. He was glaring death arrows at the man that he didn't notice when a man sneaked up from behind him and covered his nose with a white handkerchief.

"I'm sorry, Young Master." Mr. Robert apologized.

Arthur's eyes widened and he tried to get the man off him. But he hadn't had any meal that day. The popsicles that he was meant to manage were down in the pool. He was weak compared to the man's strength.

A strange smell slowly drifts into his nose. And it wasn't the fish stench that had always been in the room. It was something else. He knew this smell. It was... Chloroform! They were trying to knock him out and take him forcefully. 

He held his breath for as long as he could. But everyone had their limit. Slowly, he subconsciously sniffed in the Chloroform. He could feel his subconsciousness slipping away from him. His hand tightened around the album. He was not letting this picture go. Never.

Dots appeared in his vision and everything became blurry. He took one last breath before he succumbed to darkness.

"That's enough." He heard faintly but it was too late. His muscles were weakened. He was tired. Slowly, he closed his eyes to sleep.

Mr. Robert looked down at the unconscious man lying on the bed. A low sigh escaped his lips when he remembered what Arthur's father had said when he called earlier.

"Bring him home. At all costs. I don't care whatever method you use, Robert. Bring my son home to me. He has done nonsense enough outside. He has been trampled on enough. It's time they know who their boss is."

Of course, they knew what Arthur had been doing the whole 10 years that he had not been home. They had pulled a few strings from the background.

Like Arthur's present Scholarship. Sure, he earned the spot but the Scholarship wasn't going to be given to him due to his so-called background. His Father made sure his son got the spot he deserved.

But if Arthur's father was as good as he's claiming to be, why did Arthur hate his Father so much?