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It’s Theodore’s 18th birthday. Just his. It’s been 13 years since he’s had to share a birthday in the walls of the Huxley mansion. Since Monty managed to outsmart Felix and shoot him out of a helicopter in a bloody, burning mess (or, at least that’s what he had heard happened). Since their father sent Felix… somewhere. Theodore didn’t like to linger too much on where Felix was now. The thought made his stomach churn and his head hurt.
Today, he’s set to take over Applesoft. A spot he remembers Felix being so confident about getting even at 5 years old. There’s no competition anymore. There hasn’t been for 13 years, but there’s still that voice in the back of his mind. The one that tells him that Felix is the one that deserves this. Felix was always more level-headed, more focused on what their father wanted. What his expectations were and how to live up to them.
The same voice reminds him that he never wanted this, not really. That all he had wanted at 5 years old was for his brother to stop hating him and for the competition to end. But he couldn’t say that without facing “severe consequences” from their father. He hadn’t known what that meant back then, but now he knows that if he was more defiant, more rebellious, he’d probably be wherever Felix is now.
He wishes he had gotten the courage to be more rebellious before it was too late. Maybe being sent away wouldn't be so bad if Felix could be where he’s standing right now. In a perfectly tailored and trimmed suit, adjusting his cufflinks, styling his hair in preparation for the ceremony at the over-the-top fancy event hall their father had rented out for this day.
Theodore’s tie is crooked. He notices as he hears his father calling from downstairs that the car’s ready. He considers leaving it. One last act of rebellion.
He decides not to. He’s taking over the company no matter what. He might as well make things easier for himself.
He barely remembers the car ride there. He looks out the car window the whole time, only listening to enough of his dad’s talk about legacy and adulthood and responsibility enough to nod and give some vague responses. He doesn’t truly hear what his father has to say and he doesn’t want to. He hears the word brother at one point and he doesn’t really remember the rest of the car ride after that.
The hall isn’t loud, necessarily. Nobody's yelling, at least. The Applesoft staff knows better than that once Mr. Huxley walks in. Nonetheless, the sheer amount of voices at once is overwhelming and just another reminder that he was never meant for this. This wasn’t meant to be his future. He’s sure Felix would’ve walked in with pride. Maybe he would've been excited that this many people were gathered there just for him. Instead, Theodore walks in with a polite but barely-there smile on his face. His posture is stiff, his walk practiced.
He stands behind a table at the back of the hall next to his father, who’s handed a microphone from a surely underpaid assistant. His father gives a speech about his own retirement and all the years he’s spent working for Applesoft and all that’s been accomplished and how proud he is of Theodore for living up to his expectations. People clap when he mentions his name. Theodore wishes they wouldn’t, even if he knows half of them don’t really give a shit about him and that this is just a corporate event for them. It makes everything feel more lonely than it already does.
Theodore’s handed the microphone and he starts into a half-hearted speech that he’s been memorizing for two weeks. How grateful he is and how he’s been preparing for this moment his whole life with a professional, contained excitement that he knows deep down is all bullshit.
As he gives his speech, his mind drifts to how he always hoped this day would, somehow, never come. That Felix would come back and their father would accept it and Felix would challenge him one last time and Theodore would give up without a fight. Felix would be mad about that, of course. Felix always wanted a fight. But Felix would still take everything and Theodore would probably be disowned. But really, that didn’t seem so bad to him. Maybe then he would have some chance of a normal life.
He thinks about running out of the event hall after this is all over. Going off-the-grid. Completely disappearing. But he knows he can’t. Knows his father would manage to find him somehow and give him hell for it. He knows he couldn’t take that, even if he’s known for years that he’s nothing but a business asset to his father.
But that doesn’t stop him from wishing he could. The thought that he wouldn’t have to accept that the rest of his days would be spent running Applesoft, spending his days in cold, lifeless corporate meetings, talking about business and advertisement and budgeting and everything else that Theodore has never once truly cared about is all so tempting. But truthfully, he’s still too frightened of his father to do anything.
So he keeps giving his meaningless speech that sounds robotic and wrong to him.
He thinks about what it would be like to live a normal life. He wonders if Felix is living a normal life right now. Wonders if he even misses his old life at all after thirteen years. He wonders what Felix is doing for his 18th birthday, if anything at all. He hopes he’s having a good day. Hopes he's spending it with his friends. What Theodore does know is that Felix is not spending his birthday promising the next 40 or so years of his life to a company that he still doesn’t feel prepared to take on the responsibilities of despite preparing nearly every day of his life for this moment.
Theodore’s speech comes to an end before he can really register that it has and the hall is filled with obnoxious, perfectly in sync clapping. His father takes the microphone from him and says a few more words before setting it down.
His father speaks to him, then, “Happy birthday, Theodore. Go speak to your associates.” his associates. Not his father’s anymore. His. It doesn’t feel real even if he knows it is.
He gives his father a stiff nod and disappears into the crowd. People are eager to talk to him - or rather, they're eager to talk to their new CEO. They shake his hand. They ask him questions about Applesoft’s future that he gives perfectly practiced answers to. He tries to memorize people’s faces and names because he wants to be better than his father who can’t even remember the name of his chauffeur of twenty-something years but he can’t because there are so many people and so many questions and it’s so overwhelming that he wants to scream.
He’s eventually able to excuse himself to grab a drink. He pours a glass of champagne that he shouldn’t legally be drinking for another three years, but he’s Mr. Huxley’s son so nobody thinks to tell him otherwise. He hates the taste of champagne - any alcohol, really - but holding the glass and taking tiny sips at least helps to pretend like he’s an adult enough for all of this.
Someone knocks into his arm trying to grab a glass. He turns to apologize despite knowing it wasn’t his fault - an old, bad habit - and freezes.
“Monty?” the name slips out of his mouth before he can think. To not say anything at all, to ignore him like he never saw him. But even if he only saw him on one unfortunate Tuesday 13 years ago, he can still recall him vividly all these years later. Because when he pictures his face all he can think of is being five years old again and his father telling him what Monty did to his brother and how that terrible event was somehow justification for his brother being sent away.
He wonders how his father forgot to mention that little detail. That the kid who got his brother sent away works for Applesoft.
Monty looks less surprised to see him, but he still tenses up just the same. He still has the same ginger hair, freckles and round glasses. His suit is dark green. He has a cane now instead of a wheelchair.
Theodore’s imagined what he would say to Monty if he saw him again. He’s imagined screaming, yelling at him for what he did. For hurting his brother. For being the reason he'll never see him again. For being the reason he's his father's "only son".
But now that the moment’s come, he can’t bring himself to say anything. He just stares at him. Frozen, wide-eyed in shock like a deer in headlights. A part of him hopes that Monty will just walk away. Maybe he’ll quit. Get a better job. If he knew how to operate missiles at 5 he can surely do much, much better than here. Far, far away from here.
Instead, Monty leans against the table next to him. He pours himself a glass of red wine and takes a long sip.
“Hey, Teddy.”