In the mansion of the number one family in Cranix, Kendrick Kane watched as his men carried in a poorly dressed man.
He recognised the clothes from the picture someone had posted from the location of that movie.
What was its name again?
Though his company was funding it, he didn't really keep up with details of the entertainment part of their conglomerate.
He had men for that.
Kendrick's heart thumped in his chest as he moved closer to the men, looking at him hopefully while still carrying their burden.
"What is this? What is going on here?" he asked, even though he already knew.
Was the anguish of twenty years old truly going to end today?
"I am sorry, sir. He...wouldn't cooperate with us so we had to knock him out to fulfill your order, sir."
"You knocked my son out?!" Kendrick said in a booming voice that had the man who just spoke and the others who were not carrying him drop to their knees immediately.
"Sir, we don't really know yet if he is the one," said Kendrick's right-hand man, Lance Yerima.
Kendrick ignored him and stepped forward.
His chest tightened painfully as he set his eyes on the young man who could have been Jordan, except that Jordan would never be seen in such cheap clothing and haircut. As he leaned closer, he saw that this young man had a small cut above his right eyebrow, which was partially covered by the bang of his dark hair.
Hair that looked just like his mother's.
Kendrick almost expected the unconscious man to open his eyes immediately, and he knew for sure that the blue eyes that the twins had inherited were what would stare back at him.
Kenrick's hand shook slightly as he ran it over his aged blonde hair. His antique watch glinted as the cuff of his checkered shirt appeared in front of his eyes.
It took him a second to realise he had almost touched the boy.
"Lance, you come here and tell me if you think this is not my boy," Kendrick said without straightening.
Lance came forward and cleared his throat almost immediately. "He looked just like Mr. Kane, except that..."
"That boy would never be caught in something this...basic. I know. I know." Kendrick said with something close to a laugh, though it sounded more like a chocking sound.
"Take him to his room." Kendrick said to his men.
"Sir, I still think..."
"Yes, yes, always so careful, Lance. I know many have come forward to prove they are my son for years. This one didn't come forward. For heaven's sake, they had to knock him out."
Lance cleared his throat again and said, "I will punish the men for their..."
"No, leave them alone. If they have truly brought my son to me, then what they need is a reward. Can you imagine how Susan will feel when she gets back? I already sent for her." Kendrick patted Lance's arm as they followed the men upstairs.
They soon entered a room that had gone through the passage of time, even though its owner had not been there.
After leaving the room exactly the way it was for some years, Susan had made it her mission to redecorate the room according to the preference she believed her boy would want at that age.
It had not been difficult to see how his twin had transitioned, so she had decorated the room according to the needs of a child, then a teenager, and now an adult.
As Kendrick looked around at the tastefully decorated room done in charcoal grey, walnut, and earthy-tone decoration and paintings, he knew it would suit the man they were carefully setting down on the grey-sheet bed.
His Jarvis.
Admitting that to himself felt so exciting, and he couldn't wait to say it out loud. Still, he knew Lance was right. They had to be a hundred percent sure.
For the sake of everyone.
After settling him down, the men bow to him and leave.
Kendrick couldn't stop his automatic movement towards the sleeping young man.
"Sir..."
"Give me a break, Lance. Will you? It's not every day I have my son come back home to me."
"I meant no offence, sir. It's just that; it's time for that conference call with the Mark Twain group, sir."
"Fine," Kendrick said with a sigh as he tucked his hands into the pockets of his flannel pants. "He doesn't need to wake up to see a hovering old man hanging around anyway. He would probably wake up angry after they knocked him out like that. We will talk and sort out all this mess," he nodded to himself and turned towards the door.
"Once he wakes up..."
"I will let you know immediately, sir." Lance said and followed him out, quietly closing the door behind them.
***********
Jordan was just coming back from an all-night party.
All he wanted to do was stay out of his dad's path and go to his room before he gets another lecture about irresponsibility or some other shit that the old man might want to get on his back about today.
He was just rounding the corner that led to his wing when he saw his father and that stuffy Lance coming out of that room.
The goddamn room his mother had kept for his dead brother.
It didn't matter that he had mistakenly trashed it once.
Nor did it matter that he had broken the vase his mother had gotten for ten million dollars from an auction and kept it in the room of someone who was never coming back.
The maid he blamed it on had been fired.
But still, his mother had made the room even better with many more priceless things.
He wouldn't have been really surprised if he had seen his mother coming out of it, but he had never actually seen his father moping there before.
And now he was there with stuffy Lance? "Something is off," he muttered to himself.
He waited until he could no longer hear their footsteps or whatever boring discussion they were having.
Then he turned around the corner and headed towards that wing instead of taking the turn that led to his.
"Good morning, sir," a maid knelt to greet him.
He kicked her aside as he snapped, "Fuck off."
He soon got to the room and found it unlocked.
No surprise there. His mother had made sure they never locked the room.
It was as if she was waiting for the ghost of her son to waltz in through the door.
Jordan jerked the door open and couldn't see anything different in the living room, which was designed almost like his.
He had deliberately changed many things in his wing after his mom did her last makeover here.
He didn't need more reasons to know that they all wished he was the twin who had died.
"This is just a waste of time," he muttered to himself in anger, and almost turned away before he decided to check the bedroom.
"What the hell?" he yelled as he saw the bastard who had his face on and was sleeping peacefully like he had the right to be in that place.
He moved closer unconsciously as many voices rose in his head.
"They prefer him to you. They will always prefer him to you."
"They wish you were the dead one. Your father even admitted it to me once."
"You think they will give you a second look if he is here? I can assure you that the moment they find him, your parents will cut you off like they are already hinting."
"I heard your mother tell my wife the other day that she never really loved you from the beginning. Jarvis was her favourite. Your father's too."
"If he is alive, you will be nothing but trash to them. You will be a nobody."
A nobody. A nobody. A nobody.
Of all the words, the last one was the one that chilled Jordan the most.
He was the heir of the wealthiest family in the city and even the country!
He was not a nobody, and he would be damned if he would let a ghost turn him into nothing in his own home.
"You were dead anyway. You are nothing to this family," he thought to himself as he reached out for one of the many pillows stacked against the headboard near the impostor sleeping in his home!
With the substance still coursing through his blood and self-righteous anger raging through his system, Jordan raised one of the pillows and held it firmly against the impostor's nose.