I didn't really know what to expect once I walked into my dad's business.

I guess I expected it to be like a factory, but instead it was a huge building that looked like it was made out of glass, which wasn't very convenient considering when you're upstairs, because what if you're too damn heavy and crash down?

I'd hate to be that guy.

Even the floors were glass.

See through, and clear.

I'm not afraid of heights or anything, but it did gave me a sick feeling just by looking down.

How is this building even stable?

"I assume you have alot of questions about this place, but once we go to the last floor, your questions will be answered." My father replied after saying hello to the checks person then pushing the very last button on the elevator.

Who said I even had a question anyways?

I really wasn't that interested in the business, even if I did have some questions, not that I'll ask any at all just to satisfy my curiosity.

We got in the elevator which was surprisingly not made of glass, it was all pitch black, the only light illuminating the room was a tiny bright bulb in the middle of the ceiling.

Seriously, a glass building, and now a claustrophobic elevator?

Who even made this building?

"Now, I'm trusting you to not say a word, if you as so much say one word to anyone, you will be sorry." He told me with a serious threatening tone which kinda scared the hell out of me since, wasn't he like a famous business owner or some crap?

I didn't even know or gave a damn at what my father did, all I knew was that he was rich because he owned something.

I never really bothered to know about it since there was absolutely no point considering my step brother, Charlie, was going to end up owning it.

Once the elevator crashed down with a ding, the doors opened to reveal a big room full people placing some sort of substance into boxes.

I couldn't tell what it was since it was in a black bag, but the place did smell funny.

Like drugs.

I should know because I've done some.

"What is all this?" A question slipped out of my mouth.

"This " He placed his firm hand on my right shoulder. "My son. Is business."

I looked up at him confused.

My father?

The one who alwasy told me I was a good for nothing.

The one who was a hypocrite to me for doing drugs, was a drug dealer?

"Is that weed?" I asked him pointing towards the boxes.

"And Marijuana, gum, pills. Anything people will buy."

"But-"

"Now, do you see why I need you Bryson? You'd be perfect for this business! Unlike your sissy of a brother who wants to be an artist."

"I still don't understand. I thought you owned hotels, or Apple phones. Something like that."

He chuckled and patted my back alittle too harshly, pushing me forward.

"Companies like that get you money yes. But selling drugs? That doubles the profit. We're talking 800,000 dollars a day. And international helps with that."

"But how are you even doing this? What-what about the cops?"

He laughed once more, as if it were a joke." Cops work for me. They can't do anything without any proof. They may have their suspicions, but nothing they can actually acuse me of."

That's when it hit me.

My dad wasn't even any important person with power. He was just a big headed drug dealer who thinks he can get away with it.

Even I know they don't last very long.

Cops will always sink you down.

But now, as I stared at everything around me, everything looked put together.

Besides the smell, it just looked like an ordinary factory.

Nothing suspicious here.

"So what do you say son? Interested in owning all this and making millions in a week?" He marveled, grinning down at me.

I was honestly disgusted, I know my decisions weren't the best, I mean I was probably being a hypocrite right now, but I would never even consider becoming a drug dealer.

They were just greedy little monkeys.

"Um." I mumbled unsure of what to say, this was a huge boulder placed over my shoulders,"Can I think about it?" I asked.

A dark shadow crossed his face, but he quickly replaced it with a reassuring smile that almost seemed genuin. Almost.

"That's fine. Why don't I show you the rest of the business?" He put his arm over my shouler, almost as if he was trying to resist me from running away and blab my mouthtowards the world, then toured me around.

I learned that as far as some of the employees go, only a few people knew what the real sales were.

People like the receptionists had no clue whatsoever.

I felt bad for them really, I mean if they ever got caught they'd be put in jail too.

He told me how everything worked, that their packages were laced with a strong smell of lavender to hide the drugs. Which in my opinion, wasn't very convenient to me.

He toured me from top to bottom, and even if I was in shape, my legs were still pretty tired from walking around all day long.

That night, as I lay in bed, I thought about my future.

I knew that being a drug dealer was not what I wanted to do with my life.

I wanted something that had passion, but I wasn't even sure what made me passionate.

Sure, I could explore different activities and subjects, but fall was coming, and soon winter then spring and then...graduation.

My actions during my younger times has no excuse. I made mistakes. And I still did, but I just wish I had a normal family so that I knew what I wanted to do with my life.

I knew that blaming my fucked up family as an excuse for not doing anything was stupid, but I also knew that I couldn't exactly do anything about it without my dad judging me the whole way through.

I thought, if I did take over the business, he would feel more proud of me wouldn't he?

But then I wouldn't feel proud about myself, I mean why should I sacrifice my happiness for someone else's ?

Especially for someone that doesn't even deserve it. But my mind was aching for some kind of connection with him.

I wished he loved me the way he did when I was five.

When he'd buy me anything I wanted, fed me, clothed me, and spent time with me.

When I turned six, it was the last time I heard the words, 'I love you.' from him.

And as much as I'd hate to admit, it hurt my heart, because he was my dad.

My family.

And even though I'm already eighteen, the little five year old in me wanted to reach out to him, he wanted to feel the love his dad once gave him.

And for that reason, I decided to consider his position.

To run the business like he does.

♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧