Page 76
Story: Kiln Me Softly
‘I highly doubt it,’ Tilly said. ‘I’ve seen you two all swoony and mad for each other.’
‘Well, maybe swoony and mad isn’t enough.’ She used the table to climb back to her feet, hoping she didn’t look as terrible as she felt. On the throwing wheel, her lump of clay sat, waiting, and it was time to prove to herself she could be a decent potter without him.
Through tears and exhaustion and some more uplifting words from Tilly, she tried again to make something worth submitting. Something that would help her forget all of this.
In the end, she managed to do just that.
Aiden barely made it to Manchester in one piece, but he couldn’t spend another day sitting inside, wondering how he hadn’t known that his father had bought his place at Elmington. As he reached Whittaker North offices, he realised that he hadn’t planned at all what he might say, even after a four-hour train ride spent staring out the window. Everything about him felt empty, his mind included.
And yet the sight of his surname on the white sign outside summoned enough anger that he strutted inside without care, waltzing straight past the receptionist and into the lift. He’d spent many days here as a kid, told to paint quietly in the corner while Jonathan tended to his business, and then later, made to file his paperwork or assist him on gallery ventures. Jonathan had taught him everything about art, and yet hadn’t believed him capable of earning his college place alone. How did that work? How little did he think of him, truly?
The long corridor he stepped out on made him feel small and young again, but it was overshadowed by the turmoil inside of him, so he marched to Jonathan’s office the way his father would: like he owned it. He pushed through the oak door without knocking, finding his father behind his desk and his bewildered Aiden lookalike apprentice seated opposite.
Annoyance blazed over Jonathan’s features at the sight of his son. ‘Excuse me. We’re in the middle of something here, Aiden—’
‘It’s going to have to wait. Did you buy my place at Elmington?’
The apprentice hopped out of his seat to excuse himself, leaving just the two of them to stare each other down. For once, Aiden wasn’t the first to break away.
‘Did you,’ he repeated through his teeth, ‘buy my place at Elmington?’
‘I don’t know what on earth has prompted this, Aiden, but storming in here without invitation when I’m in the middle of something is completely unacceptable.’
‘For god’s sake, just tell me!’ Aiden shouted. ‘Did you bribe the dean for my acceptance?’
Jonathan clasped his hands over his stomach, assessing Aiden for a moment before saying, ‘Yes, I did.’ His tone held no sign of shame or regret.
A tear rolled down Aiden’s cheek. He didn’t care, didn’t wipe it away. Not this time. Fuck his pride, and fuck his manliness, and fuck everything his father had tried to mould him into. ‘Why?’
‘Why?’ Even when sat, Jonathan still managed to look down his nose at his son. ‘Why did I work hard to get you into one of the most prestigious art programmes in the country? Do you have any idea how lucky you are? My father worked himself into an early grave just to feed his family, and you’re angry because I got you the best opportunities – opportunities you threw away without a second thought?’
So that was why dropping out had been so terrible for Jonathan. It wasn’t just that he’d expected Aiden to follow in his footsteps; it was that Aiden’s struggles had led to a waste of Jonathan’s money. God forbid. ‘You didn’t think I might have gotten in anyway? Or did you really have so little faith in me? In the skillsyoutaught me?’
‘Grow up, Aiden.’ Jonathan tutted. ‘There isn’t an artist on this planet who gets rewarded fairly for their talent. It’s rarely about something so simple. Maybe if you weren’t so bloody insecure, you could handle that, but you can’t. You’ve always been naive.’
Aiden tugged on his hair for lack of anything else to take his frustration out on.
‘And you’ve always been desperate to control me,’ he decided finally. ‘It isn’t just that you paid for my place at Elmington. You can’t stand that I’m at RACA because it wasn’t your decision. I chose it for myself, and I didn’t need your help to get there.’
‘Yes, you’re so independent now. That’s why you came to me to ask for my help just a few days ago.’
Juniper was right about all of it. Whittaker money was toxic, used as a means to tread over everyone else on their way to the top. Aiden wanted no part in it anymore.
‘I’ll never be enough for you, will I?’ he muttered. ‘It’s always about the money, the achievements, the success. Never about who I am.’
‘And who are you, Aiden?’ Jonathan stood from his desk, planting a fist on the wooden surface. ‘Because all I see is an insecure little boy with no direction, no sense of self. If I’m such a terrible father, see if you can succeed without me. See how long it takes before the opportunities stop coming, how long it takes until you can no longer afford to muck around with Play-Doh like the child you are.’
Every word wedged the dagger deeper, and Aiden could do nothing but take it. His father had always been cruel, but never like this. What had he done to deserve this much hatred, other than try to break free?
If he wanted to change, to be the man Juniper deserved, it started today. Here. And the best thing he could do was cut away all the rot, find out who he was without it.
‘I’m grateful for the opportunities I’ve gotten thanks to you, Dad, I really am.’ It took every bit of energy Aiden had to keep his voice steady,his spine straight, but he managed. He’d already resigned himself to what would happen next, and there was something liberating in the fact that he’d never have to stand in this office and be belittled again. ‘I’m grateful that I’ve never known what it is to struggle financially. But I’ll never live up to whatever it is you want me to be, and I’m done trying. Idohave direction, and it’s somewhere far, far away from your disapproval. Those insecurities come from you, and they nearly broke me. So if you don’t mind, I’ll go back to mucking around like the child I am, and I think it’s best we stay out of each other’s way.’
‘Until the next time you need my help. You still owe me, or have you conveniently forgotten our agreement?’ Jonathan smirked, though Aiden caught a slight tremble as he perched on the edge of his desk. He wasn’t used to being stood up to.
That was what gave him the strength to say, ‘The agreement’s done. She didn’t go to the interview. I think I’ll learn how to solve my problems without you from now on.’
With that, he walked away, letting the door fall shut behind him. His hands shook, throat ached, stomach churned, mind raced. An anxiety attack. Still, every step put more distance between them, and he was prepared never to close it again.
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