When Reso woke up this morning it was due to the annoying beams of sunlight shining through the wide glass front of his penthouse apartment. Someone had turned the switch of his electric widow shutters in an attempt to wake him.

“Good morning, Mr. Croix.”, a deep, female voice from the door greeted him when he finally moved his legs over the edge of his king-sized bed.

“You didn't open the shutters, did you, Acarni?” he asked loudly while he tried to separate himself from the pleasant dreams he had just a few seconds ago.

“I would never do that, Mr. Croix...” she said with a sarcastic smile on her lips and walked over to Reso to hand him clothes. “Your mother was the culprit. And she demands your presence in the dining room.”

An annoyed sigh escaped Reso's mouth: “Didn't I tell you to address me with my first name?”

“Repeatedly.” Acarni confirmed and stepped into his line of sight with a confident grin on her face. “But my contract demands, that I address you respectfully, until you offer me a more casual basis to talk... sir...”

The last bit of what she said was definitely meant to tease him as she offered him his suit for the day. He looked up to her and sighed before taking it. He hated suits. They were like a cages of fabric, designed to make all men look equally boring and uninteresting. With an annoyed expression on his face he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and almost hit his head on her chin when he stood up.

“Whoops...”, she said and took a step back. “I'm sorry.”

“No, no, it's fine.”, assured Reso her while checking her with the same curiosity he has had for her on the first day they had met.

She was an impressive sight of a woman. Her short, red hair almost disappeared below that ridiculous fedora she was always wearing. The rest of her body was stuck in a suit too, but hers was two or three sizes bigger than his and still tensing above the massive packs of muscle-mass on her arms and shoulders. The things she wore also were not custom made and probably re-used more then a thousand times before finally being discarded. She was nearly two metres in size, probably brought more then hundred kilos of weight into any fight and was probably one of the most trained women that Reso had ever seen. Her eyes had a deep, auburn-coloured shimmer that delivered anyone who dared to come close to her a sense of the threat that she could pose in a fight. The rest of her face looked a little bit deformed, as her nose was flat like from a professional boxer and seemed to have grown together with her upper lip that hid away her long, sharp teeth.

She was most definitely an unusual person to have as bodyguard, but there was more then one reason that Reso kept her around at almost all times. One of them being that she was not just a stuck-up wardrobe that kept following him around in his private life, but more of a friend she could bring along. He never was sure which of the stories she told him about her past were true and which were a fabrication, but he was certain that she didn't experience any sort of formal education as a bodyguard. How she had ended up on a list with the countries most experienced and trustworthy bodyguards was beyond him, but she had done her job well so far. There had been no major security breaches in his personal life for the entirety of her employment in his company. She was someone who teased him at times and then boasted around with whacky stories about her incredible deeds in the past at different fighting tournaments and military operations. As mentioned before, Reso wasn't sure what of it was true and what of it was just a fun story she liked to tell to make her life seen even more exciting.

It didn't matter to Reso. He liked her.

She was this spark of life he needed in this graveyard of a family.

When dressing himself, he did not send her out, in fact he kind of enjoyed the way she eyed him all the time when he wore less then usual. For the blink of an eye he considered perhaps using their mutual curiosity into each other this early in the morning but it probably wasn't the best idea to keep his family waiting. With the exact same annoyed facial expression he put on his suit and the tie around his neck before saying: “Alright Acarni... what did my family want?”

“As if they would tell me something like that.”, said she with a playful grin and kissed his cheek “Good Luck, Reso.”

“I'm going to need it.”, said the young human and tilted his head a little, so his lips would catch Acarnis in mid air and the two would kiss each other. The unequal pair just stood there for a moment, but then Reso accepted that it wasn't the right time. With resolve in his steps he turned towards the door of his room and waited for the bodyguard to follow.

Behind his door there was a floor running through the apartment with walls covered in expensive paintings in golden frames, showing important figures and moments of Maranurrian history.

The landing of Henry Banchester in 1756, the conquest of Maranurr city in 1848 under General MacGregor. There were portraits of all of the governors and presidents that had ruled Maranurr, with the exception 1928-1944 when the rebels of the Wur-Clan ruled Maranurr and held a genocidal regime over the continent. Luckily the first president of the country, Nigel Pike, who smiled benevolently from his frame into the floor, was able to defeat the Wur-Clan and restored democracy in Maranurr.

Everything was perfectly clean and arranged according to meticulous principles of order and beauty. After all this was the place where his father greeted guests, so it had to be extra fancy. Presidents and Prime Ministers had stepped over the very same Persian Carpets he was walking on right now, but Reso had no appreciation for it. All of this pompous wealth made him so mad, he wanted to set fire to it all. Whenever he walked this floor he remembered why the mere prospect of having conversation with his mother placed a heavy lump in his belly. And not only she was sitting in the dining room, but also his father. He seriously considered turning around on his heels and walking back into his room again as he stood in the door-frame.

“Son...” his father said slowly, signalling him that his presence had not gone unnoticed. His fathers massive body was sitting at the head of the teak wood table which hosted more state-dinners than family breakfasts, like that fat, complacent jellyfish. His hand had the sized of shovels and if he trained more he probably could've made a decent case for himself in MMA-fights, given his massive body size. Unfortunately his position as secretary of state required him to sit most of his time and either speak or listen to others and he apparently compensated this boredom with a lot of food. Reso was happy that he had inherited only few of the traits of his father, except for the pitch-black hair and the brown eyes. He had much more in common with his mother, including the delicate body and sharp facial structures that gave him a slight feminine appeal. His mother was more then a decade younger then his father and must've been an extremely beautiful woman at her prime, with an almost elven-like elegance that only few humans could achieve.

“Sit down with us, please.”, his father commanded, conveying clearly through his tone that this was more then a polite request.

Reso sighed and accepted that it was too late to turn now With deliberately slow steps he walked to the table and sat down, two places away from his father and on the opposing side of his mother. Immediately, a maid came from the kitchen behind the dining room, placing a plate with different types of bread and a array of toppings to choose from in front of him. Acarni took a position in Reso's shadow similar to what his father’s and mother’s bodyguards had done. With these wardrobes staring on the breakfast table, it was almost like this wasn't a family conversation, but a scene from a mafia movie, seconds before the shootout.

“Son...” his father began again. “You're seventeen years old now and in this age, there are decisions to be made in a man's life, which will influence your future drastically.”

If Reso hadn't had a bad feeling about this conversation before it even began, this had been the moment he would get it. He looked over to his mother and realized that it was not her who wanted him to be present at the breakfast table but his father.

If his father had sent Acarni straight up to him with the message “I want you to have breakfast with me”, Reso would've refused it and just left the apartment to breakfast at a nearby McDonalds. And his father wasn't an idiot. So he sent his trophy-wife ahead who at least had something that could be described as a relationship with Reso. Internally he cursed himself mentally for falling for this obvious trap as his father continued.

“Take me for example. When I took my first political mandate, I was sixteen years old and I was working as an apprentice for Foreign Minister Verne back then.” he said. “And now look at me. I am head of the the Maranurrian Union Party and secretary of state.”

“I know, Dad...” Reso responded annoyed. He knew the story of the political career of his father forwards and backwards. It was all he really every talked about with him. “What do you want from me? Take a candidacy for some bullshit position?”

His father sighed again, the disappointment showing in the few muscles, his fatty face actually could still move. He took another bite of his ham sandwich to ease his hunger, before continuing.

“No, son.” he said with his mouth full of ham. “I have realized by now that you cannot keep up with me in terms of political prowess and I accept that. I have realized that, to ensure you can keep living a comfortable and wealthy life like I do, that I have to play into the few strengths that you have. You turned out to be a handsome, young man who knows the basics of being a gentleman. I like that. And you are honest. Not to me of course, but given how much you managed to enamour your bodyguard with your kindness, I would say you are a very decent person. She exclusively had positive things to say about your character.”

A painful sting went through Reso’s chest and he looked over his shoulder towards Acarni, who was clearly embarrassed by this revelation. Reso on the other hand felt betrayed. Acarni was gossiping to his father about him?

“So..” his father continued, not minding his sons reactions in the slightest. “I have decided to secure your future in a different way.”

Reso turned back to his father again, his heart pounding nervously. This was not something positive, he could feel it.

“This evening we are having an important guest... Mr. Harry Feuerstein is coming to visit us on a business trip to secure drilling rights in the east of the country.” Reso's father continued. “And along with him, he is bringing his beautiful, only daughter, Carol Feuerstein. We have come to an agreement to... try to link you two together...”

Reso’s jaw dropped when he realized what his father was even saying here.

“Wait...” he said with disbelief in a voice. “You're trying to coerce me into a relationship with some American slut so you can get on board with an oil company?”

“SHE IS NO SLUT!”, his father yelled, letting his fist slammed onto the table, making the glasses and plates jump a little bit. “She is one of the most beautiful and richest girls you will find on this planet and she is much more qualified to lead on our families business then you will ever be.”

With a the same angry expression on his face he reached into the pocket of his suit and pulled out a photo, which he then placed on the table and pushed it to Reso. On the photo there was a young, blonde woman with a cool but beautiful smile and a gorgeous body hiding below a red, body-tight dress. Reso pushed the photo away and stood up: “You cannot decide who I am have a relationship with!”

His father did not stand up, as it wasn't necessary for him to assert his obvious authority. Calmly he explained: “If you had spent a bit more time on all the educational opportunities that I have offered you and all the stepping stones that my mother and I have laid out for you, then I would not have to do this. But you are a Croix, you are Reso Croix my only son and I will not allow you to end up one of these drug-addicted rich-kids that the boulevard-news like to gossip about.”

“You only want to avoid press to preserve your political career!”, Reso accused his father. “You don't care about me or that girl!”

“Of course I care about you.”, yelled his father with the same aggression as his son now. “That is the only reason I have not yet thrown your lazy-ass into a bootcamp and that is the reason why I try to arrange a date with the most influential young woman on this side of the world for you!”

Desperate for aid Reso looked to his mother: “Mum, say something about this bullshit!”

She just left out a deep, exhausted sigh and placed her fork on the table.

“Reso, hun...” she started. “Why don't you just listen to your father? She is rich, she is beautiful and she is currently studying in Harvard. That is literally all a man can aim for who dropped out of a private high school.”

Reso tilted. He grabbed the plate with his fully intact breakfast on it and smashed it against a wall.

“YOU FUCKING, SUPERFICIAL IDIOTS!” he screamed at them.

Acarni stepped in, pulling him back a bit as she saw the bodyguards of both her father and her mother getting ready to detain him.

“Res... I mean, Mr. Croix, calm down please.” she said, gently tugging his arm towards the exit.

“You do not own me!” he shouted as he started walking towards the exit. “You will never own me!”

“If you embarrass me this evening.” his father called after him. “You are disowned, son. This dinner is of utmost importance, not just for you.”

Reso ran down the corridor and back to his room. Once he was inside, he slammed the door shut after him, unable to hold back his tears any longer. The first of his tears stemmed from the overwhelming anger that he felt and after wiping them from the edges of his eyes, he went into his private bathroom and leaned over the sink. For a few seconds he just stood there, sobbing about his own helplessness, then he started to pull the suit off his body and threw it into a corner. Reso wasn't willing to wear this prison of cloth any longer. After he was done he could raise his eyes again and take a look at his own face without feeling alien to himself. Reso probably wasn't what people imagined as the ideal “man”. He was more underweight than he was overweight and hard ear-long black hair giving him a slight emo-touch. It was the most of a rebellion which his parents had allowed to happen so far.