Semper Fi

"We've come to the end of this interview. Miss. Kathleen Gates, there are millions of people who look up to you and are currently watching this. What would you like to say to them?"

Look up to me. She scoffed, tilting her head to the side. "Look up to me?" Kathleen tapped the mic. She turned around and then asked if the mic was loud enough. Satisfied with the response, Kathleen brought her head closer to the mic. "I have only one thing I'd like to say."

"Go on, Miss. Gates." The radio host smiled reminiscently.

"Get a life. Look up to me?" She chortled. "Who asked you to do that? I don't want anyone looking up to me or at me! I'm not your Mom, I'm not your deity."

"Miss. Gates,"

"Why look up to me?" She jabbed as if the subscribers were in front of her. "I'm human like you. Work your ass out because the country ain't gonna feed you not because you look up to someone or want to be like someone. Be you for you! Don't go around giving credits to people who don't know a shit about your suffering."

"Miss Gates." The radio host scurried to the 2nd camera.

Scarcely did he turn it off, Kathleen screamed at him. "Don't you dare." Facing the vertical camera, she straightened up. "Don't look up to me ever. I'm human so I'm gonna make mistakes. I'm not going to pretend like I don't like eating ten hamburgers in a day because I know people look up to me so if I eat those shits in public I'm disappointing them. I must stay healthy for the elderly people who expect much from me." She mimicked in a hoarse tone.

Cameras rolling, fans raging and airing their disappointment through the tilted glass while throwing stones, a dark tall man in a gray tuxedo stood in the corner, observing with a shrewd smile.

"Y'all are disappointed?" Kathleen went on. "Well guess what? I don't need your appointment. Keep your appointment and disappointment to yourselves. I'm not your kid or girlfriend or mother. Don't expect much from me because I don't expect anything from y'all. Look up to me." She snorted. "If I had looked up to my father and mother, I'd have become a scrubbing puppet. Whatever the hell that means."

****

Winsbury's hot weather in August was a relentless furnace, still the mornings and evenings were soothed by the gentle caress of the late autumn breeze, providing a swift reprieve from the scorching weather.

A Rose Noire Droptail drove speedily into a large compound, making the gentleman in white, standing in the parking lot, leap and scurry under a shade.

As the door swung open, the Stuart Weitzman Cinderella slippers of the lady inside was the first thing that greeted the crowd.

She alighted the car in slow motion, dressed in a black mermaid off shoulder satin lace long prom dress, chopard garden of kalahari wristwatch, chopard emerald necklace and a 1001 nights diamond purse placed under her armpit.

She waved frantically at the cameras, blowing kisses and making poses.

As each member of the Gates family made their way to the penthouse, a group of young men in suits, numbering between twenty and thirty, lined up in two rows from the front door to the gates. They bowed in greetings, creating a pathway reminiscent of a red carpet event.

"Presenting Mr. Morrison Gates, the eldest son of Mr. Zephyrus Astor Gates, accompanied by his wife and two children," An elderly man in checkered shirt and black tailored trousers, a lavalier microphone clipped to his shirt, announced to the assembled reporters, journalists, and attendees gathered to witness the family reunion.

"Timothy Gates, first grandson of Mr. Zephyrus Astor Gates." A 5.6ft young man in his late 20s, wearing sweatpants said firmly while glaring at the announcer. "The earlier you learn to acknowledge my presence the better it would be for your family."

"Only those lacking significance resort to seeking attention," Kathleen said, leaning against her rose noir droptail car, a giggle escaping her lips as she focused on what caught her attention on her phone.

"When those in positions of importance fail to appreciate what they have and the love they receive, it's inevitable for those they deem unimportant to emerge from the shadows. Personally, I believe that individuals who struggle with public attention should remain behind closed doors and allow those with greater understanding to take charge." Mrs. Helen Timothy Gates lifted her head and flashed a smile at the camera.

"Everyone is entitled to give useless opinions but you're abusing that privilege." She flipped her straight black hair, looking up at the next family to be announced. "You should go in. You don't want these people discovering your worth in this family."

"Kathleen!"

"Honey, let's go. There's no point arguing with people who don't know the value of family. C'mon."

Was that supposed to hurt me? Geez Kathleen, you should know when to feign sadness. She placed a hand on her chest and shook her head.

Gesturing at the female guard by her side, Kathleen gazed at the stars. The soft breeze whispered through her hair as her eyes caught the first glimpse of fireworks bursting against the canvas of the night.

"Happy birthday, Baby Girl. Daddy loves you." She read the message etched across the sky in bold letters.

"What a waste of time." Mr. Jeremy Gates mumbled, his eyes rolling in irritation. "Why waste so much fireworks for a child who's future you aren't certain about."

"It's love, dad." Kathleen sighed. For the first time in years she felt a pang of longing tugging at her heart as she watched the words twinkle above. "You wouldn't understand that." Her gaze softened as her mind drifted to a time when her parents had shown her such affection. It happened when she was eight. She'd just returned from the playground, injured and scared. Her father, Mr. Jeremy was in his study room when his wife rushed out screaming and sobbing. Was that affection? Kathleen paused between her thoughts. It seemed like her longings for affection had created a false illusion of that day.

"Love?" Mr. Jeremy scoffed. "That's a false reality of love. The only true love that a father can show to his daughter is providing her with a good educational background and in return, she gives him good results for those money wasted on her. Daughters are already a set back to parents."

"After witnessing my accomplishments and considering my net worth, are you still saying that?" She observed the fireworks once more, a hint of melancholy clouding her expression. "I admit my limitations in physical strength, combat skills, including firearms, but it's unfair to label me a disappointment. I'm a woman, but my abilities transcend gender boundaries. Consider your own family, Dad." Her gaze swept the surroundings before settling on the seventh family proceeding down the aisle or red carpet, as their minds had imagined. "You can say for certain I've emerged as the most successful among us."

"I guess you turned out to be an appointment rather than a disappointment."

"You watched my interview." Kathleen ran her fingers in her hair.

"Mm_hmm. So did Dad and everybody else."

"Here comes Mr. Jeremy Gates, the 9th son of Zephyrus Astor Gates," the man in the checkered shirt announced again with a gloomy expression. The energy had drained from his voice. "Beside him are his wife, Mrs. Kristen Gates, their son Dalton Gates, their daughter Ciara Gates, and their first daughter, the elegant and most successful young lady, Miss Kathleen Gates."

A loud cheer followed by screams of admiration. As if everyone beside her was invisible, the camera lights flashed at Kathleen, blinding her view.

She flipped her hair, pulled out her shades and wore them. "This is what being successful feels like." She resumed walking.

As she got to the entrance, the entire family was already glaring at her as if they could see her soul.

Just then the front door of the penthouse opened, standing in the doorway was an elderly man in his early fifties. In his hand was a brown file and in the other was a list of names. He greeted the crowd with a sealed smile.

"I am Ferdinand Huntington, Mr. Zephyrus Astor Gates attorney. As you have witnessed," he went on, after giving the family a scrutinizing look. "Mr. Zephyrus won't be able to come out today. He was admitted to the hospital three days ago and his doctor has requested that he take a rest. However if we have any news concerning The Gates family, we won't hesitate to tell the media. We appreciate your presence and would kindly request that y'all go home and take some rest."

"One would think he's a member of our family." Timothy sassed. He grumbled before pushing his way into the house.

As the crowd watched with anticipation for Mr. Ferdinand Huntington to tell them what illness Mr. Zephyrus Astor Gates was suffering, The family made their ways into the penthouse.

"Did the house grow bigger with our absence?" Max, second son of Mr. Victor Gates, Mr. Zephyrus Astor Gates 4th son, said with a broad smile. "The last time I was here, I was 15. I'm 24 now." Hmm. He nodded. "So it's been, 1...2...3, 15 years?"

"9 years, coward." Timothy sank into one of the sofas. "With all the walking one has to do, I guess the servants are paid a travel allowance." He surveyed the house, his lower lip almost touching the ground.

Mr. Zephyrus's penthouse was the city's tallest tower. He built it 30 years back after buying the Tiguar Empire. It had a 100 pound door and a 3.6 m height ceilings living room that could host the entire city. In one corner of the room was a piano center and a large bar space big enough to build a room for anyone.

There was a massive primary suite in one part of the Penthouse, the walls were made of 3ds. Each of the rooms contained a floating jetted tub, a personal ballroom, Jacuzzi, a steam room and a sauna room.

As everyone was carried away in admiring the penthouse and the wealth acquired by Mr. Zephyrus, Kathleen watched the CCTV as a black Rolls_Royce phantom pulled up in the driveway.

A young man about 5.6ft tall alighted the Rolls-Royce Phantom, his phone fixed on his ear and by his side was a Pitbull dog.

"Who invited Philip?" She stamped her feet so hard that the glass in Mrs. Helen Gates's hand slipped and shattered on the floor.

"Mr. Zephyrus, your grandfather did. Please take your seats. I'm confident everyone received the email, which clarifies why everyone arrived promptly."

"Hey glasses, are you implying that we're excited that grandpa is dying?" Timothy launched towards the lawyer and poked him. "Don't forget your place, Glasses. You're grandpa's lawyer, not a member of our family."

"He's more of a family than you." Kathleen strolled to the bar. She called out to the bartender and he passed her a glass. "Go and sit down. Haven't you embarrassed your family enough."

Slamming his fist on the table in rage, Timothy noticed the guy behind Kathleen. An evil hilarious smile formed on his lips as he freed the lawyer and took a seat close to his Dad. "You have more pressing matters to take care of. Stop stalking me, Sis."

"It's been years. You smell so, so good, My love.'' Kathleen heard Philip whisper into her ear, his nose nuzzling into her hair.

Her hand automatically wrapped around her glass, making an unrepairable crack by the side.

"At the mention of his name the mood changes. There is no difference between him and the scorching heat." Mr. Kristen Gates, Kathleen's Mom frowned. "How dare he show his face in front of my daughter again?"

"Shut up." Mr. Jeremy warned. "If Dad called him here then I guess there's a reason. Kathleen would have to find a way out. She's been doing that since she was a kid. I'm sure she won't do anything crazy."

After everyone had taken their respective seats, Mr. Ferdinand pulled out a white paper from the brown file and commenced the reading of the Will, beginning with the last family member."

"This is taking forever. When will he get to ownership of the Tiguar Empire and the penthouse?" Timothy pouted.

"Keep quiet, son. You can't let them know you're excited."

"Would be better if the oldie was gone forever."

"And to my 3rd son, Mr. Paul Gates, his wife, Mrs. Paulina Gates and two daughters, Karla and Kylie, I leave to them, Prestige Restaurant, my farm and my house in New York."

"Restaurant." Timothy broke out in laughter. He laughed until tears flowed from his eyes. "I guess, Uncle Paul's always loved cooking. It's indeed a dream come true. Congratulations, Sir."

"Thanks, bro." Karla bowed. "It's indeed a dream come true. It's a clear confirmation that the women of this family are being looked down upon. My Dad didn't have a son so he's left with a restaurant. What a waste of my time." She stormed out of the living room, her twin and Mom running after her.

"And to my 9th son, Mr. Jeremy Gates,"

"Why did Pa skip Uncle Jer?" Timothy wiggled his legs. "I almost forgot I had another uncle."

"I bequeath to you, BXY Tech, Redeemed Hospital, and St. Astor's University, along with my cherished home in California."

"That almost gave me a heart attack." Mrs. Helen and Timothy said in unison while breathing heavily. "I thought, Pa was going to give Uncle Jer everything."

"BXY Tech?" Mrs. Helen turned to her husband, Mr. Morrison. He sat still, playing his usual subway surfers on his phone. His attention was so drifted away that he didn't notice the second son of the family storm out in rage after hearing the possession left for him. "Honey, are you just ignorant or pretending to be one? Your father clearly stated in his Will who he favors more. Let's just hope we get the Empire. I promise to set everything back in order once we become the Chairman and Chairlady of the Tiguar Empire."

"Congratulations, dad." Kathleen said, with a polite clap.

"Thanks, my little one."

Mr. Ferdinand's gaze shifted to Mr. Morrison and Mrs. Helen. "And to my first son, Mr. Morrison Gates and his wife, Mrs. Helen Gates, I entrust my prized possessions: my cars, Zeus Tech and Bexton International School."

"What? Hey, that's not true!" Mrs. Helen jumped and moved briskly towards the lawyer. She tried to confront him and accuse him of forgery.

With unwavering resolve, Mr. Ferdinand, undeterred, adjusted his suit with precision before taking two steps backward. As he began speaking, everyone sharpened their hearing. "And lastly, to my beloved grandchildren, Timothy Gates and Kathleen Gates, I bequeath..."

Kathleen's fingers worked swiftly across her keyboard. She whispered into her phone then resumed typing. "Yes, Bailey, we'll proceed with the investors meeting tomorrow."

As Kathleen's fingers swiped across her phone, her attention drifted into the conversation with Bailey, while the lawyer's voice echoed in the background, reading out the details of the Will. Suddenly, the shatter of glasses and stamping of feet drew her attention. Kathleen darted around the room, catching sight of Mrs. Paulina fuming by the bar. Timothy, feigning a smile, nodded in agreement, his head moving in unison with the murmurs of the others. "Grandpa, did what?" Kathleen's phone slipped from her grasp, clattering against the tiled floor as she shot up from her seat, her eyebrows furrowed in a harsh glare at Philip Wilson.