Lucifer Morningstar didn't make you do shit. (didnt_make_you) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2013-08-25 23:25:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !trigger warning, lucifer morningstar, samandriel |
Who: Samandriel, Lucifer, NPC parents
What: Meeting the parents: A job proposition wrapped in a lie
When: 8/25
Where: Concert Hall & Reception area
Rating: Low, but some warnings for relations between an adult and someone a few months shy of 18
Status: Complete
The concert had been a raging success if Samandriel had anything to say about it. The youth symphony raised a good deal of money for whatever the charity of the moment was, and Samandriel was still riding high off performing. Seeing Lucifer was an exercise in not running up to talk to him immediately. Impulse control, rather. He really did just want to throw his arms around the man and ask him if he thought he did well.
Instead, he made eye contact and smiled while his father fussed with Samandriel’s bowtie and his mother was lost in her blackberry. It was almost normal excepting the part where one of them was actually paying attention to him.
Really all he wanted was to go home with Lucifer and not worry about this charade anymore. He almost wanted to swat his father’s hands away with his wings, but that would have done a sum total of zero good.
Lucifer smiled back, but it was only the barest tilt of the lips. He wasn't going to ruin all his sly planning just to because he couldn't stop grinning at Samandriel. He was proud though, ridiculously proud. He wanted nothing more than to tell the boy so -- but that would come later. For now, he had to be perfectly in business mode.
Luckily, that was not difficult to do, since he so often was anyway,
He straightened his bow tie (this was an important affair, and a tie simply would not suit), and the jacket of his clearly expensive tuxedo, he strode over to his boy and his parents (whom he had researched enough to not only be able to recognize, but actually be aware of).
"Hello," he greeted, focusing on Samandriel's father (if only because he could not stand speaking to people who fussed with their phones), "Congratulations on the lovely concert. Your young man plays beautifully. You must be so terribly proud."
Samandriel was just glad when his father stopped fussing.
“Oh yes,” his father said, awkward as ever. “Samandriel is ah, very gifted.” He held out his hand to offer to the weird fancy complimentary stranger, pretty clearly nervous about it.
Samandriel himself sighed and turned a charming smile on Lucifer. “Thank you, sir.” He could get away with it here. Lucifer was just supposed to be a stranger. There was the slightest bit of mischief in the corner of his eyes. His mother kept on her phone.
Samandriel was a brat. He'd hear more about that later. For now, Lucifer played along. This was a business proposition, and therefore something he was unnaturally good at. He shook the hand offered to him -- grip firm (firmer than the one offered, but not imposingly so) -- and smiled again.
"You're quite welcome," he directed toward Samandriel, but kept his eyes on the father. The mother, clearly, was a lost cause. At least for now.
"I don't imagine the proposals ever stop, do they?" He gave a look, as if almost sorry, slightly abashed. "I'm afraid I can't help myself. I absolutely must throw one of my own out there. I do hope you'll forgive me, it's all so tedious, isn't it?"
Mr. Shurley blinked a few times and stuttered over the word, “P-proposals?” he asked, eyes wide. Samandriel’s were equally wide, but only because his imagination supplied an entirely different scenario, one in which Lucifer was asking for his bow hand and not his bow itself.
That word, however, got his mother off the phone. Ever keen for business and protective (albeit perpetually absent in his life,) of her son, she put the phone in her purse and like a hawk latched onto Lucifer.
“It is, a bit,” she supplied, making it very clear who controlled things between her and her husband. “Mr. Morningstar, isn’t it? I believe my firm did some contracting for you not long ago.” She held out her hand. “Rebecca Shurley. A pleasure.”
Ahah. They were his for the taking now, and with them Samandriel. He shook Rebecca's hand and found it a more business-like grip than Mr. Shurley's. "Lucifer Morningstar. Absolutely. I'm so pleased you recognize me -- your firm did help me out greatly recently. Thank you for that. I do hope my gift basket was well received?"
He tilted his head to Samandriel, not quite including him in the conversation but making it very clear he remembered the boy was still there. That his parents acted like he wasn't was a bit preposterous and he had to remember that he was a calm sort of human being for a moment. "As you know, I own a very upscale piano bar, Lux. I've felt something lacking lately though, and I knew exactly what it was the moment your son played his solo. Truly, it's rare to see someone with so much talent on such a beautiful instrument." One never just rushed into a business proposal.
“Very well, yes,” she replied about the gift basket, continuing to completely ignore her son. Her husband, however, looked all the more bewildered, but sure that his place was at his wife’s side since she hadn’t wanted to come that night and hadn’t sent him away yet.
When the conversation turned back to Samandriel, however, nothing changed. Samandriel was still persona non-grata and as far as his mother was concerned, Lucifer was all that existed. Well, Lucifer and making sure that Charles didn’t run off to the food at a moment like this.
“He’s always been a bit of a prodigy as far as these things go, yet. Personally, I don’t see it going anywhere, but he’s at the age where if it makes him happy and he keeps his grades up, I don’t see the harm.”
How Samandriel had turned out to be the person he was with parents like these, Lucifer wasn't sure he'd ever really know. Angel, he reminded himself. That had to be it.
He smiled, and while it was forced, it was perfect and not tight at all around the edges. Easy. Lucifer had dealt with worse, albeit never for so good a reason.
"It is very hard to make a seat in an orchestra," he agreed (although he thought if Samandriel wanted it, he probably could have had it), and looked thoughtful for a moment. "But my club certainly has an opening, and I'd hate to even think to have to offer it to anyone with less talent. I know you said the proposals were a bore, but I'd be more than happy to offer a figure that would beat any competition." He knew he'd get cheated in numbers if Rebecca had anything to do with it, but frankly couldn't care. It wasn't as if it wouldn't be going to Samandriel anyway.
Rebecca made a show of considering it. The truth was that nobody had made any offers on Samandriel. Samandriel knew that, but it was only because he’d never bothered auditioning for anything because she would flip out on him. This, though, well, her considering was a start.
He didn’t like feeling like he was being sold like cattle. “And the terms of this offer, Mr. Morningstar? I’m sure a man of your considerable connections would be a great benefit to Samandriel, but I’d hardly be willing to simply sign my son away without some assurance to his future.”
“S-sign?” Charles asked, staring wide-eyed at his wife.
For the very first time in Samandriel’s life, he knew for certain that his mother didn’t actually love him. The shock of it showed briefly on his face before he settled his expression into a neutral thing, trying to fight back all these conflicting feelings.
It was rare that Lucifer was actually angry. Sure, he was occasionally annoyed and as prickly as the next man, but this -- well. Now, he found himself angry. He had to quell down some of his rage, take a sip from his little cup of sparkling water that he'd previously gotten from the refreshment table just in order to be able to swallow back some of the fire he felt in his throat. Then he offered another smile.
"Of course," he said. "As any proper employer would, I have all the paperwork that would be necessary, including forms for the employment of minors. I'm more than willing to work around any school or social obligations, and you'll find my name goes long ways when it comes to future benefits. I donate regularly to some very prestigious universities, among other things. I do hate to pat myself on the back with such little subtlety, but sometimes needs must, wouldn't you say, Mrs. Shurley?"
“I would indeed,” she said, and Samandriel wanted to throw up. Her smile was practically venomous and his father...well, his father looked just as lost as anyone Samandriel had ever seen. Still the man said nothing, and Samandriel hated himself a little bit for his father’s lack of spine.
“If you’re free tomorrow, I’ll see that he comes around your office after he finishes retaking the SATs.” Right. That. Samandriel had nearly forgotten. She still demanded a perfect score out of him. He supposed he could provide that now, but he didn’t really care. He just wanted to disappear.
"Oh, yes, of course," Lucifer said, taking a moment to look away from her and just really eye Samandriel. He looked a bit poorly, and he could understand why. He didn't have to make a note to text the boy immediately upon making himself scarce. He'd just do it.
"Tomorrow would be lovely. I'll make time for him." It sounded professional, but that last part was only for Samandriel. "I'm sure you'll do more than well on your SAT's. Samandriel, was it?" He offered his hand to the boy -- a handshake in public, but mostly just a reassuring touch.
“Yes, sir,” Samandriel said, but he couldn’t bring himself to look more than polite, distress seeping out around the edges, already filling his eyes while he shook Lucifer’s hand.
“Wonderful,” Rebecca said, and Samandriel could feel her glaring daggers at him through her smile for not being enthused enough. “The test is at eleven, so he should be able to make it to your offices at say, two thirty?” With that much time implied, Samandriel was pretty sure that she had no intention of actually driving him anywhere and he’d be expected to take the bus or call a cab. Whatever. He’d show up at Lucifer’s home whenever he damn well pleased and not have to waste time with cars.
"Excellent," Lucifer said, but he really didn't feel like it was. He offered his card -- to Samandriel, and then straightened himself up and finished off his sparkling water. "Looking forward to seeing you, then. I'll take my leave for now, I'm sure you all have plans for going to celebrate the perfection that was tonight's concert." And he was mad again that he wasn't the one able to do that. He'd have taken Samandriel somewhere quiet and perfect for dinner and spoken only praise. It was clear his parents wouldn't do that. Perhaps they'd feel guilty, since he'd mentioned it though.
“Mmm, of course.” She smiled thinly at Samandriel, and then the phone started buzzing in her purse. “I need to take this.” Lucifer was walking away and Samandriel’s father was just staring like a fish out of water while his wife went to go attend to other things.
It was only the arrival of Julia, speaking praise and showering kisses and affectionate little pinches on Samandriel that broke their attention away from each other. That was about when Mr. Shurley disappeared and Samandriel had to figure out how to be happy for the only one who was actually a parent to him.