Chapter 2 The Blackmail

POLLEN'S POV

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

"Where have you been?" She asked, a brow raised inquiringly.

"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 gaze back to her and finally back to the paper again before crouching down to pick the paper then straightening my frame and proceeding to read the content of the paper.

Mason Chyna. Twenty seven.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 with someone compatible." She explained to me in a carefree tone as if there was 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 was as serious as ever and I had no doubts that she had truly gone ahead with her threat and reached out to my aunt.

Either way, none of this was my business. I was not a child that could be coerced into something I didn't want to do. I would not let anyone force me into something I wouldn't want to do in the first place. Especially not my mother of all people.

"I refuse to buy this silly idea. If you're so obsessed over the idea of getting one of us a partner, you should look up dating sites and get one for yourself." I threw the paper to 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 asked her anyway.

My mother 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 didn't come. 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 own child, how could she be so casual about slapping my failure right in my face and labelling me a 'piece of garbage writer'?

"They're never going to find out." I forced a dry nervous lump down my throat. "I do not intend on letting them find out."

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 find out about that from you. I will gladly tell them the truth myself."

"Why would you do that?" I was panicking now 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.

"Nothing. No hard feelings. Just felt like it was high time you stopped living a fake life and came clean to your friends." 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 amongst 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 friends circle.

"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."