Alfonso Makes A Scene

The pair momentarily retreated in the men's bathroom. Andrew was inside a cubicle. He patted down his sweat-soaked body with tissues. His fur coat hanged on the door hook, momentarily forgotten.

"We literally set something on fire and your parents are still okay with it," said Andrew loud enough for Sir Allen to hear. Andrew heard the running water from the faucet squeak to a stop. "But they're obviously cracking underneath."

"That was a bit excessive, wasn't it?" Sir Allen replied to him. "But you are right. I see a crack. There must be a limit to what they can accept. I did not realize they were so...open." After a beat, Sir Allen continued, "What are your thoughts on the hotel?"

Andrew undid some of his top's buttons and wiped off the sweat on his underarms. "Are you propositioning me while I'm wiping my armpits?"

"Dad's planning to buy this hotel. That's why they wanted to have dinner here. To check it out for themselves."

"Aside from the glaring fire hazards presented, it could do with some interior renovations. But you should stop thinking about this stuff. You're not going to be in the company for long. I'm sure we're close to making your parents disappointed. Just a little more. I think when we go back out there, we should—" Andrew had more to say on the matter, but he immediately clamped down his mouth when someone slammed the bathroom door open. Andrew couldn't see who it was, but the footsteps sounded angry. He raised his feet so it wouldn't be visible because it sounded like a confrontation. Was it Mr. Lopez?

"What are you playing at?"

"What do you mean, Luiz?"

"Don't play dumb, big brother. The guy who's never acted out, never dated anyone, or never even shown any interest in anything, the son who's always been perfect. Suddenly announces he's gay, sends photos of him wasted in some corner alley, and gets pierced and tattooed. You're not like this! So tell me what you're up to!"

"This has always been me, Luiz. Now everything's just out in the open."

He probably meant being gay, but who knew if Sir Allen was really a drunkard. He just has a low tolerance, nothing wrong with that.

"And how would you know I didn't date anyone before?"

Luiz's face scrunched in anger. "I know you tried your best to ignore me, but we went to college together, remember? The perfect older brother, always at the top of his class? Never bothered to talk to anyone."

"It's not like that."

Luiz scoffed. "Having the comfort of knowing you've secured position; you think you can start doing whatever the hell you want. Even this post-teen rebellious stage of yours. You can't even bring someone decent to the dinner table. And don't think that mom and dad will accept everything you do."

Rude-ass punk. But, well, that was the plan all along. Still, he did a small victory dance of biting his lips and thumping his hands in the air.

"Who I choose to love is none of your business," hissed sir Allen. "Where is this all coming from anyway? Do you aspire for the position?"

"And what's wrong with that!" Luiz belted out. "The second son wants the presidency. I want to be the president, but because you were the firstborn and the stupid mindset of this family. It hadn't even been a discussion. And I know I can do so much better! I have the skills to prove it. I'm different than you!"

That's new. Andrew never knew that about Luiz. The one thing that Luiz is painstakingly fighting for; the presidency, was the one thing Sir Allen was trying to discard. Andrew didn't know that Luiz wanted to be the president. And based on Sir Allen's quiet reaction, he didn't know too. Everything makes sense now. He had mistaken Luiz's reaction as an inferiority complex to his brother's success, but it maybe actually an eagerness to prove himself and step out from his untouchable brother's enormous shadow.

Sir Allen should just comfort the guy. They were brothers for fucks sake. Wait, was Luiz single? Andrew did like a man with motivation.

"Then it is yours," said Sir Allen, softly.

Luiz clicked his tongue. "Not everyone can be mommy's favorite perfect child."

Sir Allen heaved a sigh. "They do not have a favorite child, Luiz. They love us equally."

"Oh yeah," replied Luiz, unconvinced. "If I sent a photo of myself passed out with my gold-digger boyfriend I would have probably be disowned by now. But no, the moment you do it. They had suddenly transformed into these warm and fuzzy parents that we didn't grow up with."

Their conversation was cut by someone who slammed the door open. Again. Is the only way rich people know to open the door is by slamming it open? No wonder Sir Allen always breaks the doors in the office.

"Well well well, if it isn't the Lopez siblings." A girl with a shrill, nasal voice.

"The old grumpy one and the young one who likes to glare." A man with a voice like a foghorn. Two sets of annoying voices joined the comfort room rumble, but they were thoroughly ignored by the brothers. Andrew took out his phone and started audio recording. He placed it inside the pocket of his fur coat.

"Ignore us all you want, but I saw your little fiasco out there with your arm candy, Allen. Or should I say that trash candy." The man burst in laughter comparable to an asthma attack. All inhale and wheezing.

"Oh, brother. You're so mean, he wasn't that bad," said the woman who stifled her laughter. "We didn't know you had such...a unique taste in boyfriends, Allen. Didn't even know you were gay. Or have you finally gone sideways after you heard your employees were getting poached by illegal online lenders?"

"Oh, I almost forgot about the misplaced journalists during the groundbreaking, how silly, whatever happened that day?"

How the hell did they know that? Those damned journalists and their potty mouths. Andrew couldn't see why Sir Allen nor Luiz wasn't fighting back. Or where they trying to not make a scene?

"Maybe too busy fooling around with that secretary of his that follows him around," said the woman.

Andrew caressed his left cheek with his right hand. He breathed out a calming breath.

"I've always wondered how a person with such a low pedigree could land a job like that. Now we—" She was cut off by the echoing sound of skin hitting skin, loud and clear inside the comfort room. Andrew had clenched his jaw and threw a slap across his own face.

When it was all quiet. Andrew kicked the cubicle door open, and it slammed harshly on the man's body. Andrew noticed Sir Allen's raised fist immobile in the air.

The girl whom Andrew finally recognized as Michelle Ceron, cousins of the Lopez's. Her smokey-eye makeup told the world everything it needed to know about her. Her smug brother, Alex, raised himself up, jutted his finger towards Andrew, and spewed out a litany of curse words.

"You gold-digging, drug-addicted whore, how dare you! I'll sue your ass!"

Though it did feel good to be called a whore and finally get screamed at by someone rich, Andrew ignored him and went to the sink. He turned on the faucet and splashed his face with water.

"How would you sue me?" He asked Alex. "When it was you who slapped me first? And just threw water to my face?" Andrew angled his face to show the pretty red mark across his cheek.

"You have no proof," said Michelle with her chest puffed out in confidence.

Andrew took out his phone and placed it atop the counter. The screen lit up and displayed its ongoing audio recording. Andrew pressed stop. Andrew glanced behind his shoulder and winked at Sir Allen and Luiz.

"Listen here you little spoiled, entitled brats whose never worked a day in their lives. Just because you think being bitchy is a personality trait, does not mean you can walk up your unemployed ass in this joint, and spend your daddy's money as if it was yours. And don't dare to say I look like an addict when you were the one who semi-regularly checks in to rehab."

Alex moved his mouth like fish out of water. He glanced at Allen then glared at Andrew, but Andrew let him think of a comeback as to give Alex a fair chance. Poor little rich kid must have wrecked his shallow vocabulary for something to reply.

"You, you, you." Everyone waited as he clenched his jaw and shook his arm. "Poor gold-digger."

"Oh, burn, ouch. That really hurts. You dug deep for that one, didn't ya? And now according to the CCTV outside, you just pushed me out and threw me to the wall. Or you can go ahead and just bend over and die in the next two seconds,"

"What?"

Two seconds had passed. Andrew grabbed Alex's ugly wrists—nice leather watch, by the way— and shoved them into Andrew's collar. Alex took a step back with his eyes and hands wide open. Andrew smirked. He pulled them both as he walked backwards into the door with everyone left aghast.

Andrew pushed the door open with his back and positioned himself so that his back was captured by the CCTV. He pulled himself closer to Alex and threw himself into ground.

Alex's hands curled into fists. His eyes darted around room. He noticed the eyes of the diners watching them. Finally, he turned up his nose and said, with an air of pride, "I'll get you for this, you slut. Let's go Mich."

Sir Allen rushed to Andrew and knelt beside him. His face eyes filled with worry as it landed on the red mark on Andrew's cheek.

"Are you alright? Does it hurt? We should get some ice for that."

Andrew tapped Sir Allen's wrinkled forehead. "Stop fretting. You'll get wrinkles. I'm fine. I curved my hand," Andrew folded his hand like a crescent moon. "So, it did minimal damage while looking it did maximum. Also, we should probably get off the floor. Hey, little bro could you grab my coat?"

"Oh, yes. Um. Sure." Luiz moved slowly, probably shell-shocked.

"I call that the Collar Victim move. I bet your parents are going to despise me after this."

Sir Allen returned Andrew's victorious grin. "A fight with a cousin in the bathroom? Absolutely."

He held out his hand and Andrew took it.

-#-

"What a horrible thing to do!"

"We know, mom. It was inappropriate and rude of us, but we are not going to apologize for it."

"Apologize? No, I should thank you both. Those siblings are really a menace to society. You should have punched them."

"In the throat." Mr. Lopez added.

"What?"

Mrs. Lopez groaned and rolled her eyes. "The detest I deeply harbor for those two has reached its heights, right Calvin?"

Mr. Lopez narrowed his eyes and whispered ominously, "The Ceron Family." He shook his fists high in the air with righteous anger. "We shall laugh in the ashes of their empire!"

Without a glance, Mrs. Lopez brought down his husband's hand. "That's a little too much. We're not at war. Besides, they don't have an empire. Barely a conglomerate," she mumbled the last part. "Oh Alfonso, we should put some ice on that. Should we take a photo of it for evidence? Or have you already taken one?"

"Mom," said Luiz as he cradled his head on his hands. "Why do you hate the Ceron's again?"

"It all started," Mr. Lopez piped in. "When they called your mom, quote unquote, a frigid bitch."

"And escalated when your dad, and older brother bought and revived one of their dying business. And he's about to include this hotel of theirs into the roster. " Mrs. Lopez waved her hand and wore an aghast expression. "They've been mean to us ever since. Good thing our little dear Alfonso here became our sword and shield. They finally got what they deserve."

She sent proud smile to Andrew's way. Mr. Lopez even stood up and patted Andrew on the back, coupled with a hearty laugh. "You did good son." He then winked at Sir Allen. "Nice catch."

Andrew tried to laugh at the unexpected outcome, but he winced instead when he felt a sharp pain on his cheek. And just like that Mrs. And Mrs. Lopez dotted on Andrew for the rest of the dinner. Even as Andrew and Sir Allen accompanied them to their car, they couldn't help but coo on Andrew while Luiz shadowed them in deep thought.

Just outside the hotel lobby, Andrew waved goodbye as the Lopez's drove away. Why was Andrew always watching a member of the Lopez family drive away while he waves goodbye?

Andrew's shoulder relaxed and he breathed out a sigh of relief. He stretched back and flexed his arms high up. He felt his joints pop. He moaned and slammed his hands down. Someone yelped in pain. Sir Allen was beside him. He nursed his arm and stared at Andrew with pressed lips.

"Sorry, I didn't realize you were still here. My mind enters bliss mode by instinct when I wave goodbye to a Lopez. Some kind of coping mechanism, I guess. Anyway, let's call the valet." Andrew stuck out his head and searched for the valet. When Andrew couldn't spot him, a be-suited man popped out from out nowhere. His hair was styled neatly, and he presented himself a in charming manner. Front Office Manager was written on his nametag.

"Oliver," Andrew exclaimed. "Where the fork is the valet? We've been waiting for days. Hey, why can't you do your job properly. Just because you've been promoted doesn't mean you can slack off."

Oliver put his hands on his hips and leaned on his left foot. He was a lot taller than Andrew, so he could ruffle Andrew's hair easily. It was a habit Oliver's developed since they were kids.

"How 'bout a thank you, huh? I had to act all chummy with a lot of uptight guys in suits to get this." He dangled a black USB in hand. "Your CCTV footage delivered right at your footstep by the most handsome staff in this hotel. That's two favors you owe me. How 'bout you repay me by finally taking me out to dinner?"

Andrew snatched it from Oliver's freakishly large hands. Andrew offered a smile in return. Even though Oliver looked like a playboy who didn't believe that the Earth was round, he always delivered Andrew's requests with no complaint. Of course, that's before a generous tip courtesy of his boss's credit line.

"I heard the hotel's going to have a change in ownership,' said Andrew.

Oliver sighed then clicked his tongue. "Can you believe it? Who knew we'd end up working for the Lopez's? You're still working for that slave driver you call a boss, right? You should quit together and find a boss that doesn't call you during school reunions."

Someone aggressively cleared their throat behind him. Andrew grabbed Sir Allen and pulled him closer to Andrew. "Oliver this is my slave-driver boss. Boss, this is Oliver. A childhood friend from college."

Oliver swallowed his next words down his throat. He let out a shaky smile. "Let me get your car." Oliver sped away into the basement parking.

The two were left alone in front of the hotel entrance.

Sir Allen stared ahead in deep thought. He crossed his arms across his chest. "Based on my parent's elated response from the violence that ensued from our confrontation with the Menace Siblings—Mom's words— We need to up the ante."

"Is it true you never had a single relationship during college?"

Sir Allen threw his head back and groaned. "I cannot believe that is what you picked up. Is it that terrible that I have zero relationship experience?

"Being a nerd and not having a relationship badge doesn't make you a terrible person."

"Thank you."

"Being a dictator boss is what makes you a terrible person." Andrew flashed him a teasing grin. He glowered in response. "Relax, big guy. We're planting the seeds right now. Pretty soon, the idea that us being together will bring bankruptcy, terrorism, and corruption to your family and your family business will come to fruition."

Sir Allen smacked his hands together. "You are right, Allen."

Andrew rolled his eyes. "Tell me something new," he mumbled. "Where is that damn car. My feet are killing me."

"And when that idea comes, we need to show that we have greatly invested too much of our time and assets to just go on our own ways. We just need more couple items and photos displayed at my home and their home to shove it to their faces. We should go on a date tomorrow."

Andrew felt a tingle in his blood. The alcohol must have kicked in. He gasped as a brilliant idea came into his mind. "Let's go on a date in our school uniforms then get arrested."

"Why the school uniforms? And no to the arrest."

"It'll be a fake arrest. I know a guy. Besides, this is killing three bitches with one slap. We have the normal couple photos. We go on the school date you never had. And we get your parents to bail us out after our fake arrest. It's perfect."

"Alright, you had your way last time," said Sir Allen. "But I will be scheduling this date to ensure efficiency and optimal number of photos. No arrests shall be made."

"Y'll see."