chapter seventeen - part one

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WOULD THE seven year contract really be worth it?

   Isaac had a late shift and could only meet Luke after. What a crazy world the adults lived in. When they were younger, all they needed was one message and the boys would be on the court ready to ball. Nowadays, you needed to make an appointment to see people as if they were too busy running a business.

   The sun stood there in the middle of the sky like the president giving a speech. The moon was in full attendance too. The words were warm and many embraced it in the cold world. However, when darkness came upon them, the sun would separate into an innumerable amount of lights to remind us to hold onto hope until its return.

   Luke had many hours to kill before then, but no victims in mind.

   “My Father,” came a voice.

   “Your father?” he asked, more out of confusion than anything.

   The celebrity had, for a moment, forgotten where he was.

   “You asked who I normally go to for advice,” said the driver, “my Father is my go to guy.”

   “I don't know my father,” confessed Luke.

   “You wouldn't be in this situation if you did.”

   “What's that suppose to mean?”

   “What about your mother, then?”

   “Neither . . .”

   “I'm sorry to hear that,” sympathized the driver. “Does that mean you grew up in an orphanage?”

   “The one and only North City Orphanage.”

   “Interesting, you say that, surely there is someone who cared for you.”

   “Yeah, but she abandoned me too . . .” added Luke.

   “Sounds like you've had a hectic life.”

   “I don’t think you understand how big of an understatement that is.”

   “It's probably as big as this city,” agreed the driver, “but you’re not the only one struggling and you can't keep driving around it. One day you need to stop, be grateful you alive, and then return to the reason why.”

   “Return to my . . . purpose for living?” Luke queried.

   “Yes, but right now you've been driving around non-stop for twenty minutes. The bill's already high, but I'm willing to restart the meter, if you let me take you to the orphanage.”

   “I'm twenty, I can't go back to the orphanage,” said the celebrity, but he couldn’t fight the feeling that the uber driver meant it differently; just like Mrs. Rennells had, when she spoke about him impregnating her staff. “And why would you do something like that for me?” asked Luke.

   “If it's true that you left the state three years ago, then you've missed the incredible development of the orphanage. I always thought the government was useless, but I guess they proved me wrong,” said the driver, amazement in his voice, “plus, I need to go pick up my daughter.”

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The car pulled up in front of the same old orphanage. So much for improvement. A regular kid got out of a regular Uber. Luke Chase was finally a regular person again. It was the label that made him so recognizable. Where would he be without them? He didn't know. But the kids looking around, chasing each other and conquering ground, they would have recognized him had he not left.

   When Luke made it through the front yard without one female drooling over him, he had to look back to be sure it actually happened.

   What a bittersweet moment! Must be the outfit, since even Ruth recognized him in it. That’s how common he appeared.

   “Don't you love the view? Kids running around, playing around like they were family from the same parents,” said a brunette staff member, “like –”

   “Real brothers and sisters . . .” said the celebrity, because it was exactly what he considered Isaac and Ruth to be, but saying it out loud sounded . . . weird.

   “Well well, if it isn't, Young Chaser?” said a familiar voice.

   “Hi . . .” Luke turned to a different woman who approached them, “Ms. Miller, long time no see.”

   “Yes yes, I see now the type of person you've become,” she said, “you haven't seen me in so many years, yet immediately you assume I'm lonely. I'm Mrs. Lonely. I haven't found the one. But I got news for you.” Luke's face went pale before she concluded, “I'm very much happily single.”

   “Glad . . . to hear that . . . Ms. Miller?” he hesitated.

   “That makes two of us.” She turned to the staff member who had a grin on her face, “Thank you for all your hard work today, Gabi, please thank –”

   The brunette’s phone demanded attention. It was Kane. Gabi said her goodbyes to her senior and the random guy covered from head to toe.

   It was cute. The guy dressed in the same outfit that Luke Chase had in the viral church video. Similar shades too. No idea how Mrs. Lonely recognized him though.

   “What's up?” Gabi walked to the car, “I'm sorry, I can't join you tonight, Kane. I got to look after my little brother again. Yeah, my father's working a double shift tonight.”

   Kane? Was it Margarette Kane? Luke had been trying to find that woman ever since her little stunt at the church. Had she also said, a double shift? Guilt possessed his face as if he was the reason for the driver's struggles.

   The celebrity had planned to withdraw a thousand stakes (Amborian Currency - ABS) as he only carried his card around. Yeah, Luke couldn't help them with cash right now, but he had to at least try something. More than anything, he had to try and get Margarette’s number.

   “What brings you home, Young Chaser?” Ms. Miller stopped him in his tracks, “Still chasing the ladies, I see.”

   “It's not like that . . .” he never thought those words would come out, at least, not having one hundred and ten percent truth to it, “There’s a woman I'm looking for who goes by the name of Margarette Kane.”

   “Yes yes, she works here,” said Ms. Miller casually, “that's her best friend, Gabi.”

   Luke turned around to chase after her but the car left as if the driver was taking his daughter as far away from the celebrity as possible. 

   “Don't worry, Young Chaser, I'll give you her number later. I'm anyway surprised you don't have it.”

   What was that suppose to mean?

   “Come now, let's talk inside.” Ms. Miller led the way, “I want to show you something.”

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