Page 62 of Breaking Vincent
“Tell us all about him,” my sister squeals.
“It’s still new, but he's amazing. His name is Vincent and I think you would all really like him.” That's all I’m willing to reveal. I don’t want to jinx anything, but I do have a good feeling about the kindling relationship.
“We would love to meet him. You bring him to the next family dinner, ok?” Dad says.
“I’ll talk to him about it.”
The rest of the night goes smoothly and by the time I’m heading out, I’m exhausted. I love spending time with my family, but they are a loud bunch.
Chapter 25 –
Vincent
It's been a couple of weeks since my real identity was revealed to David and I have to admit things are going way better between us than I expected. I truly thought I would have fucked things up by now, luckily, I haven’t.
David and I make sure to see each other a couple of times a week, whether that be for date night at his house or meeting up at the club. The more I learn about the man, the harder I’m falling for him.
I’m not silly enough to think that we’re going to fall in love and ride off into the sunset together, but I’m feeling hopeful about the way things are going.
Which is why I have decided to surprise him at work. It's a Tuesday night and I know from experience that it's usually quiet at the club on this particular day.
I have just gotten out of the Uber and I’m making my way through the front doors when I spot Bowie sitting at the front desk. Since I’ve been here frequently, I’ve gotten to know a few of the staff and Bowie is one of the most pleasant of them.
He smiles when he spots me, but the smile looks sad and a little forced.
Since nobody else is in here, I walk straight up to the desk and lean down on my elbows, “What’s going on, little man?”
Bowie grins at the nickname. David told me he's into age play and has a Daddy of his own, so the nickname fits perfectly, I think.
“Hi, Vincent. Are you here to see Master David?”
Oof, I love it when someone else calls him Master.
“I am here to see him. But first, tell me what's bothering you.” I look at his face and see his face is slightly blotchy and his eyelashes are damp. “You’ve been crying?”
Bowie sniffles and his bottom lip starts to tremble.
I move myself to the side and squeeze past the desk, before squatting down so I’m not towering over him. “Little man, what's got you so upset?”
Bowie shakes his head as more tears drip down his face.
I put my hands on his knees and give him a light squeeze, as I ask, “Do you need me to call someone, your daddy?”
Bowie nods his head, “Yes please.”
I spot Bowie's phone under the top of the desk and hold it up, scanning his face so I can click onto his contacts. It only takes a second to find the contact labelled Daddy with a load of orange love heart emojis.
The phone only rings twice before a deep voice answers, “Bowie, baby, are you ok?”
I smile at his worried voice, glad that Bowie has his daddy.
“Hi, my name is Vincent. I’m one of Bowie's friends from the club.”
“Hi, yes Vincent, I know who you are. My boy has mentioned you before. Is Bowie there? Is he ok?”
I nod my head, then realise he can’t see me. “Uh, he looks ok physically. But when I came into the club, he looked glum and now he's crying. I think he needs his daddy.”
“I’m on my way,” he responds. “And Vincent, thank you for calling me. Are you ok staying with him until I get there? I’ll be there in ten minutes.”