Page 5 of Bryce

“Traffic!Mother, dad.” He knew better than to greet her with a kiss andtook his place precisely in the middle of the dining table. There wasan informal dining room two doors down, but it was hardly used.

Lifting an eleganthand, his mother indicated that the meal should be served.

“You are nolonger filming, I take it?”

“No. We wrappedup a week ago.” Reaching for the glass of water, he took a sipto try and ease his parched throat. She knew he had finished with thefilming of his latest movie, because his father would have mentionedit in passing.

“I have seenthe preview,” Blaine spoke for the first time since he arrived.

“And?”Bryce knew better than to ask, but he could not help himself.

A one shoulderedshrug met his answer and that was expected. “Your co-star wasnot right for the part. They could have done well to use someone withmore allure and chemistry.”

Tamping down on hisirritation, Bryce took another sip of water, a longer one this time.“She was brilliant.”

Before his fathercould respond, the meal arrived. Silence reined in the coldly elegantdining room as the maids put the food on the table. And even afterthey had left, it remained. It was impolite to have a conversationduring the consumption of the food. He had learned that painfullesson, when he was barely five.

Excited about whathad happened at school, he had tried to tell his parents and had beentold in a cold and stilted voice that it was bad table manners tospeak at the dinner table. He had been sent to his room and notallowed to eat with them for a week.

The only sound wasthe clink of utensils as they went through the several courses. Brucehardly tasted anything and could not wait for the meal to end. Theonly thing that was keeping him sane right now was the fact that hewould not have to put himself through this bloody torture for severalweeks. He was looking forward to it.

After the finalcourse had been consumed, he felt the tension lifting. It was gettingclose to the end. They would have dessert in the blue and gold livingroom and conversation would be expected.

The ornate clockchimed softly, signaling the end of the meal. His mother rosegracefully, her every movement a study in elegance and control. Brycefollowed suit, his father trailing behind, as they all made their wayto the blue and gold living room.

The room was opulent,with plush velvet sofas and gilded mirrors reflecting the soft glowof the chandeliers. Bryce settled into a chair, feeling the familiarweight of expectation pressing down on him. His mother took her usualseat by the fire, while his father chose a spot by the window, hisgaze distant and unfocused.

A maid appeared witha silver tray, offering delicate pastries and steaming cups ofcoffee. Bryce accepted a cup, wrapping his hands around the warmporcelain. The silence stretched on, heavy and suffocating.

Finally, his motherspoke, her voice breaking the tension. "Your father and I havebeen discussing your future, Bryce. Now that you have finishedfilming, we believe it is time for you to consider your next step."

Bryce's heart sank.He had hoped for a reprieve, a chance to escape the relentlesspressure and expectations. But it seemed that his parents had otherplans.

"What are yourplans?" His mother continued, her tone leaving no room forargument. "Your father has an idea that would have the two ofyou working together. It would be an excellent opportunity for you tofurther your career."

Bryce swallowed hard,the taste of coffee turning bitter in his mouth. "Thank you,Mother. I appreciate the effort, but I would like to take some timeto myself first. I need to recharge."

His father's eyessnapped to him, a rare flicker of emotion crossing his face."Nonsense," Blaine said sharply. "You have had enoughtime to rest. This is not a request, Bryce. It is an expectation."

Bryce clenched hisjaw, feeling the familiar frustration and helplessness rise withinhim. He knew there was no use in arguing. His future had already beendecided for him, as always.

His mother studiedhim with those inscrutable golden eyes, her expression unreadable."We only want what is best for you, Bryce. You have a gift, andit would be a shame to waste it."

Bryce forced a smile,nodding in agreement, "I am taking a break.”

The silence thatgreeted that was heavy and ponderous.

There were noeruptions of anger and outrage, which would be beneath them. They hadother more deadly arsenals and had been perfecting them for years.

He felt the silencepulsing around him with a force that had his armpits sweating andcould feel it trickling down his back. His parents used silence theway some people used words, but it was more effective.

Another of theirweapon was to make him speak first, force him to in fact.

“I am goingaway for several weeks.” He blurted out, cursing silently forconstantly allowing them to feel as if he was still in short pants.

“Where wouldthat be?”

He forced himself tolook into her eyes. “I am not sure yet,” he lied.

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