After sending off the town car driver to an early demise, as I had done with so many others before, I kept my presence to a minimum as I entered the Ritz London and made my way to the stairwell.
Sure, I could have easily taken the elevator, but it was simpler and easier to be stealthy if I simply blazed myself up several flights of stairs to our floor.
In this way, the odds of me running into anyone else were slim at best since the convenience of an Elevator was something more people would choose over climbing multiple flights of stairs.
I, on the other hand, had zero problems taking the stairs after all; a little exercise never hurt me. Hell, I was even able to run fast enough to outspeed any elevator by a long shot.
It took me less than a minute to climb up to the 6th floor, but the moment I got close to the door to my Father’s room, I could hear …the faint sounds of moans and giggles.
The noise was enough to halt me in my tracts and shiver; I mean, who wouldn’t get wigged out by the sound of their Father having sex with some random ass whore he hooked up with at the hotel bar.
Scratch that, the thought of my Father banging anyone grossed me out, so I did what any rational son would and began beating on the door like a police officer, causing the girl in my Father’s bed to scream in shock, followed by a loud thump that made me chuckle.
’Hehe, she probably fell off the bed; what a dumb broad.’
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"DADDDD WE GOTTA GOOO! Why are you doing this again? We have to head to the airport!" cupping my hands around my mouth and placing my face to the door, I yelled loud enough to be heard in every room on our floor, and that…did the trick as not even thirty seconds later, the door flew open revealing my Father fully clothed albeit disorganized and messy but at least it was something.
In a flurry, my Father was packed up, the girl kicked out of the room, and the two of us, Father and son, were in a cab on our way to the airport.
I wish I could say something exciting happened after that, but unfortunately, it was rather lame, as we made it through the airport, boarded our plane, and were stuck on a 9-and-a-half-hour flight back to Orlando.
That’s not to say that nothing entertaining happened on the trip back; I got to watch my Father strike out multiple times while hitting on not one or two but all 8 of the flight attendants throughout our return flight.
Honestly, it was pretty funny, considering he had been a literal playboy since touching down in Scotland two weeks ago.
Upon returning home that morning, since our flight was overnight, the fact that Amanda had yet to return wasn’t lost on me; however, that was soon resolved as around 6 pm the day of our return, the bitch from hell walked in carrying along my little brother, and I could tell by her body language, and the hidden disdain in her eyes, she had cheated on my Father.
Unlike before our trip, Amanda was distant and short-tempered with the man, something that seemed to confuse my Father at every twist and turn, but for me, who knew what was happening, it was like reaching the climax of a good book.
The chess pieces had all been lined up, begun battle, and the game was nearly over; all I needed to do was stick the landing and bide my time for the next year, as Amanda would slap my dad with divorce papers on Valentine’s Day 1998.
I will say, though, that as the tension began thickening, my environment was becoming more and more annoying with each passing day. From the initial disdain I spotted in Amanda, her attitude became worse and worse until she and my Father were having full-on screaming matches about literally nothing.
One of them would merely walk into the same room, and BOOM, argument. Still, I persisted, and that was all within the first two weeks of my return.
During that time, my only solace came in the form of online stock trading on our newly purchased computer. Well, I say OUR, but it was by no means a family PC; no, it was mine, and no one even knew I had it.
By using some clever tactics and going through multiple channels, I ended up using one of the few online brokers to purchase not only Yahoo shares but also AOL, as I knew both would see massive growth by the end of the year, especially Yahoo, which in 1997 was destined to soar over 500%, so with a little investing, I was on track to make MILLIONS.
Or…well, someone going by the name Nexus Rellacant was. If you have to ask how I was able to set up an account, which required stringent documentation and multiple legal hurdles to climb over….you clearly weren’t paying attention to my adventures overseas.
With my insider knowledge that both tech companies would turn large profits, it was only a matter of setting aside the proper funds for each and a few other companies, and the money would practically earn itself.
Waisting the days away with stock trading and becoming a notorious internet troll who frequented all of the large chatrooms and message boards, Two weeks turned into two months, then three, and finally, it was May 1st.
At midnight, when the servers came online for AOL Instant Messenger, I was among the first 100 to make an account. I easily snagged my desired username, the same one I had eventually settled on with Xilia and had been using to harass the youth of the internet generation.
DING: Buddy request from Phantázima
~Door swings open sound effect~
Hearing that sound brought a smile to my lips, as a wave of nostalgia washed over me before I opened my buddy list and double-clicked Xilia’s user name, which brought up a basic messenger box, high-tech and fancy for the time but rather plain for me.
Regardless, I typed out my first message on AIM in decades.
Anarkhos: Well, well, well, look what the Phantom’s dragged in.
Phantázima: still, I wouldn’t say I like the name you came up with.
Anarkhos: Coming from the girl who keeps using Phantoms in everything she names, I reallllly don’t see what ground you have to stand on.