The Blackmail

POLLEN’S POV

The next day, when I finally returned home after a long day outside to avoid my mother’s troubles, I walked into the living room to see her seated on the cushion with a small printed piece of paper in her hand. She raised her gaze to meet mine as soon as she noticed me walk in.

“Where have you been?” She asked with a raised brow.

“The city park” I replied, trying the best I could to act nonchalant.

“Whatever.” She rolled her eyes and threw the paper towards me. I eyed the paper and moved my honey-brown eyes back to her and finally back to the paper again before crouching down to pick it up. After straightening my frame, I proceeded to read the content of the paper.

 Chyna. Twenty-five. Accountant. Studied at Harvard University. A sportsperson.

Date spot: Blu Restaurant, Thursday night. 7pm on the dot.

A confused frown crossed my face as I read the details of the paper, and I lifted my gaze back to my mother again.

“What is this supposed to be?”

“Your Aunt has helped set you up on a blind date.” She paused to examine my countenance. Seeing that what she was doing got to me, a smirk soon adorned her face, “...with someone compatible” She explained to me in a carefree tone as if there were nothing odd and awkward about the information she just passed on to me.

“Are you kidding me?” I laughed a little cynically at the idea of my mother and my matchmaker aunt plotting a blind date for me without my consent.

“Does it look like I am joking?” Her countenance changed to as serious as ever, and I had no doubts that she had truly proceeded with her threat and reached out to my aunt.

Either way, none of this was my business. I was not a child that would be dragged into something I would rather not do. I would not let anyone force me into doing what I don’t want to do, especially not my mother, of all people.

“I refuse to buy this silly idea. If you are so obsessed with the idea of getting one of us a partner, you should look updating sites and get one for yourself.” I threw the paper on an empty cushion. And just as I was about to walk out on her, her voice came again.

“You just got your twelfth rejection letter from the magazine company you’ve been applying to, haven’t you?”

I turned my head to look at her again, a look of confusion and puzzle now written on my face. Somehow, my heart sank at the reminder of my failure. Something I had been trying to push behind me all these while.

“What are you talking about?” I pretended not to have the slightest knowledge of what she just said.

She rose from her spot and picked the piece of paper from the empty cushion again before walking towards me, closing the distance between us.

“What do you think your friends would think after they discover the truth? That you have been lying to them all these while about having a successful writing career while, in the real world, you are nothing but a garbage writer who has never achieved anything but a pile of rejection letters from numerous magazine companies?”

My lips parted, but the words wouldn’t come as I felt a swirl of emotions trying to overtake me. I wondered how a mother would be so harsh and radical to use cold words like these on her child, how could she be so casual about slapping my failure right in my face and labelling me a ‘piece of garbage writer’.

“They are never going to find out” I forced a dry nervous lump down my throat.

My mother’s lips broadened in a wide smile, and a sinister laugh followed. She reached for my hair and patted it gently and smoothly, but in a rather cold and malicious manner.

“Oh, no dear. They’re not going to know about it from you. I will gladly tell them the truth myself.”

“You wouldn’t do that” I was now panicking even though I did my best to hide it from her.

 One thing about my mother was that if she ever caught a hang of any weakness of someone, she would use it heartlessly against them.

“Of course I would. I think it’s about time you stop living a fake life and come clean to your friends since we are all trying to be honest people” She shrugged defiantly.

Just the thought of letting my friends find out about my ‘garbage’ life scared me to my knees. Unlike me, they were successful in their careers and to elevate myself among them too, I had to come up with a lie about a successful career. They hadn’t been more pleased to show me off as their successful writer friend. Allowing my mother to ruin a prestige I had taken so much care and effort to build was something I was never going to sit back and let happen.

“What do you want?” I asked her, knowing fully well that my mother had a real motive behind wanting to ruin my image within my circle of friends.

“You know what I want already,” She maintained her cold smile, her hand still arranging my hair smoothly.

I shut my eyes briefly and sucked in a dry, frustrated air.

“Go on the blind date that your aunt has arranged for you and get yourself a man.”