The Leo

 

Cristian didn’t know his father at all growing up and his mom was always tight-lipped. He didn’t get why; in the old pictures she had around the house the two actually looked happy. His dad looked like a normal dude. Goofy smile of a 20 something recently married, finding out he was going to be a dad. A former art collector in his pastime. Something changed. In him. To him. Whatever. The smile Cristian only knew through magazines or scrolling on Instagram wasn’t the one in his house. The one online was one belonging to a much older self-assured male in a position of power.

Then the call came. Cristian had turned 18. His father wanted to meet him. Told him that he’d explain everything the boy wanted to know and pay his mother what she was owed for raising him with interest.

“Don’t go.” Cristian mom would warn him, for reasons even she didn't quite understand.

“You think he’s lying about the money?” He didn't give a shit about his dad’s truth; it wouldn’t change the fact he had impregnated his mom then dumped her.

The woman would suck her teeth before sighing, “I’ve known that man since we were in diapers. He changed one day, but no. Out of all the things I could call him, a liar isn’t one of him. But it’s not his lies I’m worried about.”

“I’m getting your money mom.” Cristian would say hugging her close. The next day he’d be on a plane to meet his elusive father.

The man’s walk, or rather saunter, reeked of money. Tight swim trunks for the pool, bare chest, douchey sunglasses. A body that saw as many workouts as it did boardrooms. He hugged Cristian tight. Cristian wanted to push him off but was attempting to play nice. He stomached the affection even though it reeked of performativeness. Not like he could fight the guy anyway. Cristian was fortunate with his genetics, but his father was in a whole other weight class. Cristian was a jock and his father looked like what ate jocks for breakfast.

“A DILF.” His father said.

“Huh?” Cristian asked.

“I said you probably didn't know your father was a DILF.” The man grinned, all pearly white teeth showing. Cristian groaned as his father walked them inside his massive estate. The living room was larger than most hotel lobbies, stark white walls, gray rugs, black furniture. On the wall above the mantle sat a huge painting of a lion’s head, eyes staring out into the room. Cristina felt like its eyes were on him

“Like it?” His father whispered in his ear. Cristian didn't move. “It’s called ‘The Leo’. I'm Leo. I just knew I needed it when I saw it. I bet your mother remembers, she got it for my birthday. You can say it inspired me, put me on this path today.” The man rested his head on his son’s shoulder smiling, “I think it’s having the same effect on you, as it did me.” He patted his son on his chest, knocking Cristian out of his frozen state. “Let me show you to your room” he waved for his son to follow. Cristian didn't move; he looked back.

“Don’t worry there’s copies all over the house…even in your room.” His dad winked.

Cristian forgot to ask questions. He didn’t want to ask questions. All he wanted to know was more about the painting. How did a picture inspire his dad? He laid awake eyes on the copy above his bed. Nothing special about it, and yet he got out of bed walking through the dark house to stare at the original.

“I was there you know.”

Cristian jumped as his father stepped out of the shadows, “I was there you know. When you were born. Held you in my arms.”

“I–I didn’t know that.”

“Told your mom not to tell, but I had long since promised her, I’d be there. But she probably knew just by the sight of me, I was falling apart. A sweaty mess, unkempt,” The man chuckled, reflecting on his past state. Cristian didn’t see what was funny. Then his eyes switched from reminiscing to predatory hunger in his eyes as he circled his boy.

“The picture needed me, and I knew it would need you too.” The man rolled his shoulders, “I told your mother to stay away. I knew the responsibility of the weight wouldn’t ruin you if you weren’t ready.” Then he paused, approaching from behind his son to rub the teen’s shoulders. “But there was another reason. I knew watching you fall would hit so much better with delayed gratification.”

A roar came from the painting, as a ghostly lion figure stepped out, floating in the air then lunged at Cristian. The boy screamed as the animal turned into smoke, flying down his throat as he collapsed back into his father. Cristian's stomach gurgled and churned as his body recognized what it was digesting was the boy’s own desires. His pride. His arrogance. Great fodder for a growing young man. Cristian’s body got yanked higher, forced to stand as tall as his dad. Shoulders more akin to cannon balls heralded the appearance of skull crushing arms. His face whisked away any last vestiges of baby fat, true looks coming to prominence. He looked like his father's son. Daddy’s little enforcer.

The world would be all aglow about Cristian. The arrogant, self-righteous, little prince who appeared out of nowhere to work alongside his father. His getaway and trips would be stuff of legends ranging from expensive to stupid. No one would ever be able to locate where the child came from.

---

Cristian’s mother was home alone, when she got the text from her ex-husband. She’d been waiting to hear from her son and know he made it okay.

“I really have to thank you Betty. You raised a good son. He couldn’t even make it one day. I mean, Christ even I took months to fall! But our boy was something special. I always knew it. But I needed to wait. Innocence wasn’t enough, the kinder and sweeter he was. The greater the new him could be."

“What the hell are you talking about, where’s Cristian!” Betty typed back. “I don’t care if you pay me, but if you’re saying you wasted his time.”

“On the contrary, I’m saying I have to pay you extra for the work you put in. I knew it was something only you could do ;)! Say ‘hello’ to our son.”

A picture came through of a young man, the mother didn't recognize.