Sebastian was soon thrust into the police station and his name was quickly across several documents which if released to the media, the reporters would have a field day on that latest piece of gossip.
The prison cell in which Sebastian was held was barely six feet by four. The walls were the same thick grey stone as the dwellings of the region, but instead of a wide window with a flower box, there was a mean barred opening with thick metal bars and no glass. In the summer the fresher air would've been a relief, helping to alleviate the stench of festering sewage but in this cold season of January, it let in a wicked draft and reduced the temperature to near freezing. It was no brighter inside than the gathering gloom of dusk, even at midday.
Sebastian groaned as his phone went off for the thousandth time that evening. "Can I please answer my fucking phone?"
Obadiah, the cop who had arrested him had apparently fallen asleep in his spinning chair. It was all too surreal to believe that Sebastian could be stuck in a grey walled jail cell. If someone would've presented him with this idea a few months ago, Sebastian would've laughed in their face but now he feeling anything but humorous.
"Hey, wake up!" Sebastian clamored now, gripping the bars and once again trying to pry them apart but to no avail.
Disgruntled and longing for the comfort of his bed in the Lee Mansion or even the soft comforter of one of his many Rolls Royce cars, Sebastian thrust his fist against the wall, and to his satisfaction the noise abruptly ended the cop's deep slumber.
"What the fuck?" Obadiah yelled, slamming his fist down on the feeble wooden desk which looked like it would crumble to pieces with just one more blow.
Sebastian rolled his eyes, back against the wall of his jail cell. "You're sleeping on the job which is extremely unprofessional."
"And why does it matter to you again?" Obadiah jabbed and then his eyes found Sebastian's iPhone 11 Pro Max sprawled out on his desk under a few Manila envelopes and monotonous legal paperwork.
"Has your daddy dearest been calling you? Wanna get his poor little rich boy out of prison?"
"I hope it's not dad," Sebastian muttered almost incoherently.
"What's that?" Obadiah looked up across the table and over to Sebastian.
"Nothing." Sebastian scoffed as he looked down onto the ground, tired of fighting.
Instead of leaving the boy alone, Obadiah wanted revenge for his abrupt arousal from his slumber. So his wrinkled eyes lit up in mischief as he clutched the phone - that would probably be worth his annual income - in his hand and pushed it in Sebastian's face.
The Face ID worked and the phone unlocked and Sebastian gasped at the audacity that insignificant cop had.
"What are you doing?" Sebastian tried to pry the device out of the cop's hand but Obadiah was quick to resume his place onto the spinning chair.
"Looks like you got some texts here."
"Good to know, now shut it off," Sebastian muttered however Obadiah didn't even spare a solitary glance in the rich boy's direction as he took a slow spin in his chair apparently going through Sebastian's texts.
His stubby hands scrolled over the spotless screen as he scanned through his contacts. "Who's Robin? Certainly doesn't look like a boy from this picture here."
Who's Robin? Sebastian thought to himself but he decided against voicing his notions and instead said, "Didn't you hear me the first time? I said shut it off."
Obadiah paid no heed to Sebastian's protests as he scrolled through more of his contacts before switching to his Instagram DM's with a devious grin plastered across his face. He clicked on each DM and then an even more sinister smile came across his lips.
"Bro where have you been? Come to the party, we got some mean coke-" Obadiah feigned his shock before settling his gaze on Sebastian for a fleeting second. "Cocaine? Are we talking about drugs here? Because that's another charge. So I hope for your sake this pretty boy here is talking about Coca-Cola and not Cocaine."
Sebastian's hands had balled into fists again and he threw himself against the bars, prying at them with all his strength but it didn't budge. Listening to a creep in his mid-thirties read text messages that Sebastian wouldn't even read in public wasn't an ordeal he wanted to go through and it definitely wasn't how he'd planned to spend the rest of his evening.
"Oh, some girl named Mia Kim said - heard you're single now, wanna hang out?" Obadiah recited in a thin, shrill, girly voice. "That was about five hours ago, right when you vandalized that car."
"I did not-"
"What do you want me to reply to her?" The cop sniggered before returning his gaze back onto the phone.
"Can you shut up?" Sebastian seethed through gritted teeth.
"I'm assuming you and this Mia girl are way more than friends according to these naughty texts."
"One more message and I'm suing your ass along with this entire goddamn station," Sebastian shouted, realizing how much he sounded like his father, Damien Lee. A few cops turned their heads towards the secluded jail cell before resuming their activities.
Obadiah shot Sebastian a firm look but set the phone down just as the door swung open and in came another cop in his mid-twenties.
"I can take it from here." The new cop informed Obadiah. Sebastian assumed that Obadiah's shift was over and he basically thanked Buddha for rescuing him.
"Don't wait up for me, hon. I'll be back in the morning." Obadiah winked over to the rich boy trapped in the prison before making his exit. It was late in the evening and the majority of the crowd seemed to be emptying that godawful place to return back to the comfort of their houses. Sebastian felt like they were rubbing salt in his wound by carrying out their regular schedules.
Once the police station had seemed to thin out, he found himself in a cold, lifeless grey jail cell with no one to get him out.
Sebastian had no choice but to wait. So, he waited for his friends, his family. But no one showed up. He felt betrayed, he had been punished for a crime he didn't commit. He thought at least Maxon would have the courtesy to come bail him out but no one came to his rescue. He was all alone, a poor little rich boy cramped in a cell with petty thieves and burglars who eyed him like he was fresh meat and they were starved apocalypse survivors.
Sebastian tossed and turned but just couldn't find the right position. A lingering haze of sleep sat somewhere at the back of his mind but was too far away to reach, floating in the pool of his paranoia. Icy discomfort blossomed in his chest and made it difficult for him to breathe. Trying to make himself fall into slumber, Sebastian took deep breaths, but many just caught in his throat, like an icy wind had blown down there and managed to freeze the air solid.
At that moment, Sebastian knew this was going to be a long long night.
With a million thoughts and constant anxiety, he soon fell asleep but not without keeping an eye open for potential murderers.
The first night in the jail cell was Sebastian's taste of struggle and he absolutely hated it. The cops had no sympathy for the rich boy, subjecting him to sleeping in a corner on a cold marble floor with nothing but a thin cotton sheet in the cell. They didn't even bother turning off the fluorescent lights that burned hard into his eyelids. They denied his rights of making a phone call as Sebastian was rambling about lawyers since his arrest.
Nothing gave the cops more merriment than arresting rich brats who fended off their father's money. And Sebastian was a classic example.
His sleeplessness showed the next morning as the aching in his skull ebbed and flowed like a cold tide yet the pain was always there. It was the most miserable experience he'd ever had and he mentally vowed that if no one came to his rescue, he'd scape an escape, run away to a country unknown and never return.
Safe to say, the sleeplessness was making Sebastian a little too dramatic.
The cops who had arrested him the day before came back the next morning.
Obadiah shook his head in a chuckle and smirked in Sebastian's direction before sitting down at his desk.
Sebastian couldn't believe these people could just come in and out of the station as they pleased, knowing that he was rotting away in a prison.
"I've got money. I can pay you." Sebastian clutched the prison bars tightly until his knuckles turned white. He was desperate and would give or sacrifice anything to avoid his father being informed of his falsified latest mischief.
The outcome would be bad, terrible, horrible.
"Save it for the judge." The elder cop with a lithe figure gruntled as Obadiah chuckled beside him.
"But I'm rich." Sebastian was practically shouting now as his grip tightened over the iron bars.
"Money doesn't get you out of jail, rich boy." Obadiah leered as he took a large bite from his morning burrito.
"I beg to differ." The words came after the door swung open and in came the last person Sebastian wanted to see in the world.
Lee WonShik also who is known as Damien Lee. He came in a guise of Jesus Christ and Satan alike to first rescue him and later punish him in creative ways in his own personalized hell.
He wore a look of elegance, his stance king-like with his close-croppedd hair, the same dark mysterious eyes and a permanent scowl on his face.
The scowl seemed to deepen when he saw his son, slumped against a wall in his cell.
The older cop sprang up first, soon followed by Obadiah. Sebastian half expected the cops to bow down with nervous jitters as Damien presented himself in front of them.
"Get my son out of that wretched dumpster." Damien spat, scraping off an invisible speck of dirt off his dark blue Givenchy suit.
The cops without another taunting word grabbed the keys and unlocked the cell pulling the bar gate open. Sebastian literally ran out of that prison, cowering behind his father. He staggered out, feeling as if the air was easier to breathe with every minute that he was free.
Sebastian promised himself that the first thing he was going to do was get a good night's sleep in an actual bed.
"Here's the paperwork and the court date for-"
"Court date?" Sebastian gasped.
"You're being charged with drinking and driving and destruction of private property." The elder cop - who's name tag read Joseph - cited authoritatively.
"I wasn't drunk!" Sebastian barked.
"The complaint states otherwise." It was Obadiah who sniggered out, waving the thin flimsy complaint paper in front of their eyes. Sebastian couldn't believe Ruxton, he had filed a false complaint.
Sebastian could sue Ruxton if he wanted to but assuming what Damien thought of his son, convincing that Sebastian was not under the influence or involved was an unfeasible task.
"Un - fucking - believable." Sebastian slammed his hand on the desk loud enough to grasp the attention of the nearby cops.
"Sebastian." Damien barked harshly. "Don't you dare utter a single word."
Sebastian tsked, wanting to say something but instead he watched in horror as Obadiah tried to hand Damien a Manila folder but Damien knocked it out of his hands only for the papers to spiral out and onto the floor.
"I don't need court dates." Damien Lee dug in his suit pocket, pulling out a pack of one hundred dollar bills. He held it up now, the bills bulging out of the thin strap which was holding them intact. "We can settle something right now."
The older cop's eyes grew wide again at the sight of what looked to be at least five grand. "Sir, I cannot accept-"
Before the cop could even finish his sentence, Damien pulled out another five grand and slapped it on the desk. Obadiah snatched it immediately, a greedy shine in his eyes like a gold-hungry goblin.
"Sure. We can settle something." Obadiah thrust the bills into his pocket as he gave a knowing look to his partner.
Damien always tried to teach Sebastian how the business world worked so he watched closely as his father used his wealth to get him out of one hell of a situation.
"You're going to rip everything you have on Sebastian Lee. He was never arrested."
The cops were in disbelief, not even able to answer but somehow managed to nod.
"Here's an extra ten grand to keep your mouths shut. This shouldn't get to the media at any cost." Damien slapped another roll of money onto their desk as Sebastian watched the cops reach for it in greed. They were now fifteen thousand dollars richer but with poor morals.
"Let's go." Damien's scowl turned slightly deeper as he looked at his inadequate and unworthy son.
Damien Lee didn't say anything else to Sebastian as they made their way to his Mercedes in the parking lot; the only expensive car amidst second hand Hyundai's. The silence, however, only made Sebastian nervous. Usually, Damien Lee would lay it on him as soon as they were out of sight but he didn't say a word which probably meant he was brewing a bigger plan.
Damien lighted a cigarette before getting in his Mercedes and beckoning for Sebastian to follow. Sebastian was aware of the drill, once he got in that car away from all the police station cameras, he was going to get the beating of his life but he got in anyways because anything was better than a jail cell. He prayed to every deity up there to avoid being banished to South Korea.
Sebastian only blandly regraded the clean, matte black interior of the Mercedes. He didn't care much for Mercedes and rarely ever bought them - he owned one in his private collection of seventeen cars.
Sebastian got in the passenger seat with trembling hands and jelly legs as his father got in on the other side.
Unable to bear the silence anymore, Sebastian leaned forward, barely touching the radio dial when he was blown to the side of his car with a familiar force that he knew all too well - Damien Lee's rage-filled punches. Sebastian's whole face was on fire and in the passenger mirror, he could see the red blotches on his face.
Damien wasn't thinking when he let out his boiling antipathy and swung his right fist again, too quick and potent, into Sebastian's defined jaw; the impact like thousands of venomous blades piercing apart his jaw.
It lead Sebastian to one conclusion: that it hurt like a bitch. Even after numerous punches and kicks, it still hurt like a bitch. Sebastian thought he'd been acquainted with this type of pain and it was habitual so it wouldn't hurt anymore, but he was so wrong.
Damien Lee didn't say anything anymore. Instead, he started the engine and they pulled out of the police station. Sebastian wasn't in complete shock. No, he was fuming. Fuming with anger and frustration. He had college starting in a few days and he was going to show up looking like the loser of a fight. Yet that was all a part of his father's plan; to humiliate Sebastian like he ridiculed his reputation.
After wiping his knuckles off on a clean white handkerchief, Damien turned to his son, replacing his glasses with black-rimmed Gucci's sunglasses. "I'm done letting you off the hook, Sebastian. It's time you learn the consequences of your action and pay for your mistakes."
"Your idea of punishment is beating the crap out of me. I think I pay for my mistakes enough." Sebastian leaned against the car window edge, watching the streets and people pass by at an immense speed.
A single tear managed to slip down his eye but he was quick to swipe it before his father could see it.
"Crying is for the weak." Damien would say every time Sebastian dropped down on his knees after just a few kicks and punches from his two older brothers.
Another blanket of defeating silence overwhelmed them. Sebastian felt haunted by the silence that followed as they drove in the car.
So, Sebastian cleared his throat and managed to speak, "I'm sorry, dad. It wasn't-"
"I don't give a fuck." Damien barked flatly, taking a sharp left without sparing his son a solitary glance. "Your apology means nothing to me. So save it for someone who actually cares."
"I just- I wanted to say sorry for embarrassing you. Like always." Sebastian paused waiting to see if Damien would say anything before continuing, "I promise I won't let it get to the media this time."
Damien didn't say a word, he only focused on his car wheel and the road upfront.
"Appa." Sebastian tried addressing his father in Korean which seemed to have caught Damien Lee's attention now.
"I'm sick of you, Sebastian. Why can't you be more like your brothers?" Damien heaved a sigh, in a defeat.
Because I still have a little humanity left. He wanted to say but decided against it.
"I'm sorry, dad." Sebastian relapsed back into his American accent now letting his head rest onto the window ledge.
"Your apology won't cut it this time. You're going to be living with your grandma. In South Korea." Damien said simply before turning up the radio and bringing the conversation to an end.
For how long? Sebastian wanted to ask but he had barely contemplated his father's words.