Falling for My Dirty Uncle

But more than anything else, he’s taught me how to love. He’s taught me what it feels like when you love someone so much that their happiness means just as much, if not more, than your own. Where you draw your own happiness from making them smile. Where you find strength from them when you feel weak. Where together, you are stronger than you would be on your own.

Prince Derrick Blaine has selflessly given himself to me and I have fallen in love with him.

And how did I repay this?

By masquerading as someone else. By hearing his stories of his pining for me in his youth and remaining silent. By lying to him. By deceiving him to create fodder for then newspapers. By working with someone who wished to do him harm.

He’s found now. I watched his face as he found out and my heart broke into a million different pieces. And I realized that with that, a part of me – perhaps the most important part – had died as well. I will never be whole without Derrick Blaine in my life. And I will never forgive my profession for sending me on a course where I drove him out of my life.

In short, my life will be empty and hollow without Derrick. To you, the vast citizenry of Gotham, his is but Prince Sin.

To me, I would give nearly anything to take back the actions that I’ve engaged in the last four months. But I cannot do that. So I will continue the soulless journey of my life, forever treasuring the brief time I was able to spend with the Prince.

This may very well be my last time at the Abigail Adams desk. And for that reason, I bid you, New York, farewell.

Derrick

Fucking hell.

I throw the paper down onto the seat next to me. I just read her column.

Fuck.

I’m not in the Bentley anymore. I’m seated in the ultra-luxurious Boeing X7 – newly released just this year to only 25 people, including me. As large as a 747, it has 3 fucking levels.

Yes, okay the seats are fucking perfectly soft and yet still firm. The views are incredible, since sections of the plane are made with something new called transparent aluminum – allowing you to literally see the sky as you fly through it. It’s seriously like flying outside of a plane sitting at certain angles.

There’s also a seat towards the center of the plane that you can use that will lift you up to a compartment above that cabin where you literally get 360 degree views of the surrounding sky. That’s right. No fucking walls. Like you’re zooming through the atmosphere on your own.

Fuck, I see what you’re trying to do. You’re trying to get me to focus on something else other than Alicia, aren’t you?

Well, even if you aren’t, I’m going to say you are. Because right now I feel like a major fucking cunt. I fucking walked the fuck out on her.

My life will be empty and hollow without Derrick…

Fuck me. She fucking feels the same way about me that I feel about her. I can’t let her get away from me.

I signal the intercom and talk to Pressly who’s on the far aft compartment of this floating palace.

“Pressly, we need to turn back, mate” I say into the microphone. “We need to head back to New York.”

There’s a pause from Pressly as he undoubtedly is considering what he’s hearing. Hell, if I were him, he’s probably swearing at me and hoping that I die. Thankfully, he does no such thing. But he might as well, because his words bring a sense of dread into me. “We can’t, sire,” he says with a finality. “The plane cannot land. Air Traffic Control in the New York airspace is already scrambled enough as it is with the President of the United States making an unscheduled landing. There would be nowhere suitable for the 747 to land.”

Fuck me. He has a point.

But I’m done being rescued. I’m done being the one reacting. I’m done staying silent while other people determine my fate. I start to wonder what I can do.

I spend some time thinking. Then an idea comes to my mind.

Fuck it. If I don’t do this, then there really isn’t much point in going along.

“Pressly,” I say into the microphone again. I don’t get a chance to finish my sentence because he comes down the stairs. Jesus Christ, that was fast.

Pressly sees my look of amazement and shrugs. “I figured you wouldn’t be taking no for an answer,” he says to me. “I take it you read this morning’s paper?”

What the fuck? Am I really that predictable? Is the whole story of my life something that can be fit into a nice formula? Well, I’ll fucking show all of them. Predictable my ass.

“Right, let me ask you a question, mate,” I say getting up and walking towards him. “Does Alicia still have the panic key that we gave her when we thought her name was Daphne?”