Wine in the Afternoon

Eric may be small, he may be fourteen, and he may be shy. But one thing he isn’t is stupid.

He knows that his parents are rich. He knows that they’re celebrities. His father is a movie producer and his mother is an actress. He knows his family is famous on TMZ and other celebrity gossip businesses. He knows that more than eighty-percent of the people that talk to him just want his parent’s autographs or want money.

Because he isn’t a special kid or anything. He’s pretty average of a teenage kid.

Eric Montgomery likes MacDonald’s chicken nuggets, video games, reading, his turtle, his dog, music, and movies. He dislikes his huge house, his bratty little sister and other people in general.

So when someone comes up to him and gives him that sickly sweet smile, sweet enough to give him diabetes, he knows exactly what they want.

He had his first boyfriend three months ago. And this “boyfriend” only wanted him to buy things for him and go swimming in his pool the size of a small lake. Eric dumped him a week later.

He keeps mostly to himself in his room with his pets and games. It’s alright, but it’s not really how a kid would want to live, cooped up in their room, suffocating while everyone else goes on “playing happy family with lots of money”.

Eric just wants a genuine friend who likes him for who he is, not what he has.

~

Saturday morning at eight is when Eric’s mother decides to come up to his room, pull the covers aside, and drag him to the hair stylists. Of course just like every other teenage boy, he complains and wants to sleep in. But she doesn’t let him, instead she tells him that afterwards, they’re going to lunch with his father because by the time he’s done with filming his latest movie, she should be done with her hair.

They’re “celebrating” the newest movie.

When she leaves and shuts the door, Eric flops back into his pillows and mumbles a low, “Fuck that.”

Fifteen minutes later, Aveline the housekeeper comes and tries to get him up. He bats her away for a minute before finally sitting up. She smiles and pats his head and he smiles a genuine smile back at her.

She’s the only person in this house that he actually likes. She’s funny and smart, and her cooking is awesome. In her mid-thirties, Aveline is a big lady from somewhere in the UK that Eric can’t remember. She came here to study engineering, and needed extra money, so she worked as a housekeeper for the family. She ended up staying because she’s paid pretty good money for working here.

She made Eric promise to tell no one that she found that engineering was too hard and she’d rather just be a housekeeper. She’s got great benefits. She can live in the house and eat their food and she’s paid. She just has to cook, clean, and all the other behind the scenes things. But she doesn’t mind.

When she leaves, Eric gets dressed and practically falls down the stairs, his eyes are so bleary.

No one gets up at eight on a Saturday. Especially Eric.

He eats a quick bowl of cereal and goes to sit on the front porch and wait for his mother and little sister. By the time they get out, his mom is rushing to the stylists because she’s late. Her appointment is at nine and it takes half an hour to get there. The time is eight forty-seven.

Eric rolls his eyes and gets up.

They’re running through the busy New York City streets now and Eric is definitely wide awake.

They burst through the door of the hair stylists at nine twenty-six.

Eric slips into a waiting chair and his mother plops Emmie down on the chair beside him with a, “Watch her, and don’t let her touch anything.”

The redhead nods and looks down at his feet. Emmie gets up and looks around at all the products on the shelf. Eric watches her closely and she edges away from him and turns her back to him. He rolls his eyes and rests his head on his arm.

A minute later there’s a shriek and a, “Well, well, what do we have here?”

Eric stands up and spins to see his little sister’s arm being clutched by a tall man with the fluffiest, most perfect hair and the biggest biceps along with the prettiest face he’s ever seen.

His throat closes up for a second and even if he thinks that Emmie’s a brat, she’s still his little sister.

“H-hey! L-let go of her!”

The man stands up to his full height and he’s got the most appealing brown eyes Eric’s ever seen. And he’s a good foot and a half taller than Eric.

Eric’s legs wobble and there’s a blush rising to match his hair.

The guy raises his eyebrows and takes the little girl’s other hand and tugs gently, prying a small bottle of nail polish from her hand. Then he wiggles the polish in Eric’s direction and lets go of Emmie. She runs back to Eric and hides behind him.

“I was just looking,” she mumbles.

“It was in your jacket, little girl.”

Eric is furious and spins around and kneels down next to Emmie, “What the heck, Em? Didn’t mom and dad teach you any better? Why would you do that?”

“B-because I wanted it!” she wails.

“You could’ve asked me or mom! You don’t ever steal anything. God, sometimes you’re such a brat,” he mutters at her and sets her into a chair, “sit, and don’t move. Got it?”

She nods, her lower lip trembling.

“Don’t you start crying.”

Her eyes water.

“I swear. If you start crying, I’ll tell mom what you did.”

She bursts into tears and fuck it, Eric stands up and turns back to the guy. “Fuck. How much does the stuff cost?”

The guy frowns slightly, “Fourteen bucks.”

Eric wants to hit his head against the wall.

He shoves his hand into his back pocket and fishes his wallet out, handing the guy a twenty. Then guy takes the twenty and goes over to the cash register and takes out four dollars and some change and hands it back to Eric along with the nail polish.

“Look, I’m really sorry. She’s just really spoiled and is used to getting everything she wants. So she just takes what she wants. As soon as my mom’s done, we’ll leave.”

The guy has a small, amused smile on his lips.

“It’s okay. I know how kids are. I have a little brother and sister. It’s alright.”

Eric smiles a little too and goes to sit back down, handing the nail polish to Emmie. The guy follows and leans against the wall beside the chairs.

“So. Who’s the little amateur shop-lifter?”

“Emmie. This is Emmie.”

“And you are?”

“Eric. Haven’t you heard of us?”

“Not really. Names sound familiar. Last names?”

“Montgomery.”

“Ah. So you’re Tracey and Steven Montgomery’s kids, aren’t you?”

Eric nods.

The guy smiles, “Hey, it’s cool. It’s not like I’m going to ask you to get your parents’ autographs for me. It’s no big deal. I’m Robby, by the way.”

Eric grins slightly and nods, looking down at his hands.

Someone shouts from across the room and Robby’s head snaps up. “Oooh, that’s me. I gotta go. But it was nice meeting you, Eric. Keep an eye out on that one,” he winks and just like that, he’s gone.

Eric’s stomach twists into knots.

Maybe, just maybe, for his mother’s next hair appointment, he’ll tag along.

Just in case.