Chapter 117: 117 | The Son You Knew is Dead
Jordan sat in the parking lot of Giuliano’s with the engine off, his hands gripping the steering wheel like it might fly away if he let go.
The restaurant glowed warm through the darkness, all amber light and expensive-looking windows. Valets in crisp white shirts directed traffic. A couple walked past in clothes that probably cost more than his old laptop.
His parents were inside. Waiting.
When’s the last time I saw them? Jordan’s mind raced back. Christmas Eve. Before everything went to shit. Before Eliza, before the parking lot, before I spent two weeks on my bedroom floor wondering if dropping out was an option.
That version of Jordan had fried brown hair and soft shoulders. He’d apologized for taking up space in rooms. He’d worn the same three hoodies on rotation because picking clothes felt like too much effort.
The guy in the mirror now looked nothing like that.
His mother was going to freak out. His father was going to ask questions Jordan couldn’t answer. Yeah, Dad, I got ripped in two weeks because I rolled a trait from a magical phone app. No big deal. Also, I can sing now without sounding like a dying cat, and my voice makes women horny. Want to hear?
"Jordan."
Chloe’s voice cut through the spiral. He turned to find her watching him with those beautiful eyes of hers.
"We got this," she said.
Except her hand was shaking where it rested on his thigh. The tremor ran through her fingers, betraying the calm in her voice.
Jordan looked down at that hand. At the carefully painted nails and the delicate bones underneath. She was scared too.
She’s about to meet the people who made me. The ones who watched me be pathetic for eighteen years. The ones who know exactly what kind of mess I was two weeks ago.
And she was still here. Still wearing that blue dress that made his brain malfunction. Still holding his hand even though hers was shaking.
Jordan exhaled slowly, feeling something settle in his chest.
"Yeah," he said. "We got this."
He opened the car door and stepped out into the cool January air. The valet approached but Jordan waved him off, walking around to Chloe’s side instead.
When he opened her door, she looked up at him with an expression somewhere between grateful and terrified.
"Ready?" he asked, offering his hand.
"Not even a little bit." She took it anyway, standing carefully in her heels. "But let’s do it before I chicken out."
The hostess greeted them at the entrance with a professional smile. "Welcome to Giuliano’s. Do you have a reservation?"
"McKnight," Jordan said. "Party of four."
"Of course. Your parents have already arrived. Right this way, please."
Oh good. No time to prepare. No chance to get our story straight. Just straight into the fire.
They followed the hostess through the dining room. White tablecloths. Candles flickering in glass holders. Soft Italian music playing from hidden speakers. The kind of place where you whispered instead of talked.
Jordan spotted his parents at a corner table near the window.
His mother saw him first.
Susan McKnight’s face went through several expressions in rapid succession. Confusion. Recognition. Shock. Her mouth actually dropped open.
"Jordan?" She stood so fast her chair scraped. "Oh my God, I love your hair!"
Thank you, Fade Kings. Thank you, Marcus. Thank you for making me look like a human being instead of a CVS hair dye commercial.
His father rose more slowly, those sharp gray eyes taking in every detail. The haircut. The clothes. The posture. The fact that Jordan’s shoulders now filled out his shirt instead of hanging loose inside it.
David McKnight didn’t say anything. He just looked.
Jordan’s throat went dry. "Hey, Mom. Dad." He pulled Chloe forward slightly, acutely aware of how her hand gripped his. "This is Chloe Kim. My girlfriend."
"Hi, Mr. and Mrs. McKnight." Chloe’s voice came out higher than normal. "It’s so nice to finally meet you both. Jordan’s told me so much about—"
Susan lunged forward and pulled Chloe into a hug.
Chloe made a small squeaking sound, her eyes going wide over Susan’s shoulder. Jordan watched his girlfriend’s brain short-circuit as his mother embraced her with the kind of warmth that didn’t take no for an answer.
"Oh, you’re beautiful," Susan said, pulling back to hold Chloe at arm’s length. "Look at you! Jordan didn’t mention how pretty you were. And I love this dress. Is it Anthropologie?"
"Um." Chloe glanced at Jordan desperately. "Zara, actually. Thank you, that’s really kind of you to say."
"Please, sit, sit." Susan gestured to the empty chairs. "We just got here ourselves. Traffic on the 405 was terrible."
David extended his hand to Chloe as she sat. "Nice to meet you, Chloe."
"You too, Mr. McKnight." Chloe shook his hand, her professional smile firmly in place now.
Jordan recognized it immediately. The mask snapping into place.
He sat beside her, his knee finding hers under the table.
"So." Susan settled into her chair, beaming like Christmas had come early. "Tell us everything. How did you two meet? Was it at school?"
"We’re neighbors, actually," Chloe said. "We live in the same apartment building. The Cooper Garment Lofts."
"Oh, those are lovely." Susan turned to Jordan. "I’m so glad you cleaned that place up, honey. I was worried you were living in squalor."
Jesus Christ, Mom.
"It wasn’t that bad," Jordan lied.
David made a sound that might have been a laugh. "Your mother found a pizza box in your bed when she helped you move in."
"That was one time!"
"It was three times," David corrected. "We counted."
Chloe bit her lip, clearly trying not to smile. Jordan shot her a look. Don’t you dare.
"Anyway," Susan continued, mercifully changing the subject, "how long have you been dating? Cassie mentioned it was recent."
"A week," Chloe said. "We’ve been official for about a week now."
The table went quiet.
Jordan watched his mother’s smile freeze. Watched his father’s eyebrows rise just slightly.
Here we go. Here’s where they ask if we’re being safe. If we’re rushing into things. If I learned nothing from Eliza.
"Well," Susan said carefully, "that’s wonderful, dear. Sometimes you just know, don’t you?"
David picked up his water glass. Took a sip. Set it down with deliberate care.
"Jordan." His father’s voice was neutral. Too neutral. "Can I talk to you for a moment? Privately?"
Fuck.
"Dad, we just sat down—"
"It’ll only take a minute." David stood, already moving toward the hallway where the bathrooms were.
Jordan looked at Chloe. She gave him a small nod. Go. I’ll survive your mom.
He pushed back from the table and followed his father through the dining room. Other diners glanced up, probably wondering what drama was about to unfold.
David led him past the bathrooms to a quieter alcove near the kitchen entrance. The sounds of clattering plates and shouted Italian filtered through the door.
His father turned to face him.
"What the hell happened to you?"
Jordan blinked. "What?"
"Two weeks ago you were..." David gestured vaguely at Jordan’s entire existence. "And now you’re this. You look like you’ve been working out for six months. Your hair’s different. Your clothes actually fit. You’re standing up straight." He paused. "And you have a girlfriend who looks at you like that."
"I’ve been hitting the gym," Jordan said. "And I got my hair fixed. Is that a problem?"
"No." David’s expression softened slightly. "It’s not a problem. I’m proud of you, son. I am. But I need to know this is real. That you’re not just... putting on a show for our benefit."
Jordan thought about the System. About the traits and the money and the percentages that tracked every interaction. About the lie he’d told Chloe regarding an inheritance that required three girlfriends.
"It’s real," he said. And that part, at least, was true. "I hit rock bottom, Dad. And I decided I was done being that person. So I changed."
David studied him for a long moment. Then nodded.
"Good," he said. "That’s good. Your mother was worried after Christmas. After... everything."
After I disappeared for two weeks and ignored everyone’s calls because I was too busy crying and jacking off to cope with reality.
"I know," Jordan said. "I’m sorry I worried you guys."
"Don’t apologize to me." David clapped him on the shoulder.
"Apologize to that girl out there if you screw this up. She seems like a keeper."
