Chapter Text
2002
Gerald Storm straightened out the collar of Jackson’s dress shirt, and finished tying the knot of Jackson’s dark blue tie. His son’s dark hair was a lost cause despite Gerald’s multiple attempts to fix it. But Jackson couldn’t sit still for such a boring task. Why would anyone be looking at him anyway? He was ten and was going to run off and play with his friends!
“You need to behave today,” Gerald said seriously, “I won’t have you horsing around during such an important event like last time.” Gerald had discovered Jackson screaming and laughing while playing tag with the other kids in the Biggs’ estate garden and had given him such a scolding that still echoed in Jackson’s ears. “Yes, Dad,” Jackson mumbled.
“You’re not young anymore. You’re representing our family and are soon going to be expected at our board meetings. And what’s more, your sister is looking up to you and you need to become a good role model for her. Are you even listening to me, Jackson?”
Jackson’s eyes looked back at his Father, he sheepishly replied, “no, Dad.”
Gerald frowned and Jackson shrunk under his gaze. But Dad had told him the same thing so many times! He was only ten, why did it matter if he was playing with the other kids during these boring parties? All the adults did was smoke their expensive cigars and drink thousands of dollars worth of whiskey while discussing “profits” and “share holdings.” What did that even mean? And wasn’t the tiled floor pattern so interesting? The way the blue tile blended seamlessly in different shades…
“Jackson!”
Jackson’s face snapped back to his father and squirmed. He’d again disappointed his father, but he couldn’t wait to play tag in the massive garden again! The trees and bushes seemed never-ending and there were so many places to hide and ambush the other players if he was “it.” The Biggs’ estate was the coolest one he’d been to yet. And what’s more, they even had a full scale indoor karting arena! Jackson was fascinated by all the go-karts and racing games that looked like real life cities in America and around the world.
“Jackson!”
He’d made his father angry again, “I’m sorry, Dad.”
Gerald sighed in mild frustration. “I was telling you to keep an eye on your sister tonight. Your mother and I are going to be busy at the party.” Jackson scowled, he didn’t want to be babysitting his seven-year-old sister, Macy! He could only hope that she’d run off with her friends and leave him to hang out with his own friends.
Gerald finished fussing with Jackson’s clothes, satisfied with the child-sized suit and hair reasonably slicked back with pomade. Jackson followed his father out of the bathroom where his mother, Soojin, and little sister were waiting by the kitchen.
“Jackson,” his mother smiled warmly, touching his face, “you look so handsome.” His sister jeered, “well I think he looks like a nerd!” Jackson gave her a look while his parents chuckled, and the family gathered into the magnificent granite entryway of their mansion. His mother pulled him close and whispered in Korean, “your dad looks worried, just follow his rules for now and you’ll be able to play with your friends later.” She smiled into his ear. Jackson squeezed her back and nodded.
The large black oak door was opened by their housekeeper, and the four stepped out into the warm night air of summery Los Angeles. Jackson breathed in the fresh gardenias that were growing near their door. He loved being outside in the evenings especially while he was being driven around with the windows down. It never got truly chilly, and the feel of the warm wind against his face was indescribable. Their mansion was on the outskirts of the main city, but Jackson loved it when they drove among the tall skyscrapers and saw the lights whizzing past his face.
The family climbed into his father’s sleek Ferrari and soon enough they zipped out of the estate to the dinner party. Jackson ignored his sister’s chattering and teasing and focused on the smooth rumble of the car beneath him on the road. He couldn’t wait until he was old enough to start driving! He couldn’t decide what type of car he wanted, a luxurious elegant car, or a loud roaring sports one? An SUV? A pick-up truck? There were too many options and they all seemed awesome. The thought put a smile on his face.
The Biggs estate was a large, sprawling mansion and estate which seemed like a mythical playground to young Jackson. It felt like every time he went, there was always some new room or part of the house he hadn’t seen before. He didn’t think he’d even seen the whole place despite his family visiting there for years.
“Gerald! Soojin!” The booming voice of Axle P. Biggs echoed into the foyer as the family stepped into the brightly lit entryway. Numerous guests were already dispersed here and there, and serving staff ducked and weaved expertly through the guests carrying large plates of sparkling champagne like motorcycles swerving through traffic.
Jackson looked up at their host. Axle P. Biggs was a larger, stocky man who always seemed to know more than he let on with every word he said. From what Gerald Storm had told his son, Axle was a billionaire who’d founded a software company and an entire search engine. His family was absolutely loaded. Jackson’s parents were quickly ushered into the throng of guests. His father turned back to look at Jackson and motioned emphatically toward Macy, reminding Jackson that he needed to “babysit” his sister. Frowning, Jackson turned to look at her before being barreled into by a larger body.
“YO GUYS JACKSON’S HERE!” A slightly less but still booming voice rang in Jackson’s ears. He excitedly looked at the son of Axle P. Biggs, A.P. Biggs Jr., or just AP for short. The twelve-year-old yanked Jackson’s arm toward the guests and he quickly lost sight of his sister. But he wasn’t worried. He’d already seen a bunch of Macy’s little girly friends running around and she’d soon join them anyway for whatever they did.
They were joined by multiple other boys and they ran over to the mansion’s huge sports arena. Jackson couldn’t believe his eyes.
The arena looked unreal with two floors and sleek with shades of black and gray. The higher floor had an entire weights set up along with high-tech treadmills that could customize workouts based on your own biological performance. The lower floor boasted a basketball court which looked out at the swimming pool with beautiful glass doors. And surrounding the entire area was a breathtaking gray loop meant just for go-karting. There was even a special area by the karts meant for gaming on simulated tracks. Jackson was in heaven. He screamed along with the other boys and they rushed toward the equipment and clambered onto the karts. “LET’S GO!” AP screamed and they tore onto the gray loop track one by one.
At least an hour passed before the boys finally got off the karts, sweaty and breathless. They laughed still feeling the high of speeding down a loop and trying not to get hit by each other. AP, being the leader as usual, shouted into the air, “we’re gonna do the go kart game now!” Jackson grinned, he was so excited for this!
He and the other boys always looked forward to the tech equipment at the Biggs’ mansion. With his father founding a software company, AP always had access to the latest and most high tech stuff before it even hit the market. Today they were playing Super Corsa, a new racing game that almost mimicked the real thing.
AP and the other boys grabbed gaming controllers as they chose a track in downtown Singapore. Jackson looked on in amazement as they virtually sped down the streets overlooking the Marina Bay Sands Hotel and giant Ferris wheel. He’d never been to Singapore but he knew about the F1 Singapore Grand Prix that took place every year at the Marina Bay Street Circuit. Jackson loved this game, and was undoubtedly the best among the boys. They groaned every time he sped past them and crossed the finish line.
After an hour the boys dispersed one by one to eat dinner. Soon Jackson and AP were the only ones left playing the racing game. They heard the doors open-
“BOYS!” Axle’s voice rang out, “it’s time to eat!” AP whined, “hold on Dad, give us like five minutes!” Axle harrumphed but acquiesced and impatiently watched the two finish their final lap. He looked on as Jackson’s car expertly maneuvered between other vehicles and drifted past difficult turns. It was no surprise when Jackson’s car zoomed past the finish line with a wide margin ahead of AP’s car.
Jackson felt Axle’s eyes on him. The older man looked at him with interest. “You know, this particular game has only been out for 2 days and that was a very impressive display you just showed.”
Jackson felt himself puff up his chest and blushed, “thanks sir.” He then bucked forward as he was jokingly shoulder checked by AP. “Yeah yeah,” the older boy teased, “he just got lucky.” Jackson frowned by followed the other two into the mansion for dinner.
When the Storm family finally returned home that night, he thought about the game. He had to get that game console. His parents never really bought video games believing them to be a waste of time and bad for your eyesight. Jackson thought if he asked enough, maybe they would be nice enough to get it for his birthday? It would be so worth it!
Five years later, 2007
“What the hell you cheater!” Jackson yelled as his car spun along the virtual race track. Today he and AP were racing along the stunning scenery of Patagonia but AP had seen Jackson’s car speeding ahead and had knocked Jackson’s controller out of his hands.
AP cackled as his car sped past Jackson’s but in a split second Jackson recovered and his car was not far behind. They weaved around each other’s cars and maneuvered around rocks and animals the game placed to make it harder. Jackson whooped in victory as his car careened past the finish line first. “HahaHA! I STILL won!” The fifteen year old got up and did a victory dance. AP dropped his controller and groaned. Jackson finally plopped back on the carpet, breathless from his dance. He heaved as he caught his breath and felt AP’s eyes on him. Jackson turned to face him, “what?”
AP shook his head, but continued staring at him curiously “I can’t believe you keep beating me. How’d you get so good at this game?” The seventeen year old inquired.
Jackson shrugged, “practice I guess.” He’d finally convinced his parents to buy him the gaming set and he played it religiously. He even joined some tournaments at school and had won small sums of cash, fueling his desire to keep seeking out opportunities to play. His parents had initially been upset that he wasn’t pursuing “worthwhile hobbies” like equestrian sport, sailing, or even karting itself! But once he’d started winning tournaments his parents had relented and allowed him to keep playing.
He looked back at AP and grinned, “ready for round 2?”
One year later, 2008
Jackson and AP were currently sitting side by side almost crushing the controllers in their grip as they concentrated on winning. The bar was dark and only lit by multicolored lights here and there. AP had somehow finagled fake IDs from his “friend,” and had gotten himself and Jackson into an underground tournament. They had even drank cocktails, Jackson had coughed after his whiskey and coke and wondered how his father guzzled the stuff down like he loved it. But AP had slammed his tequila straight like he’d been doing it for years.
The air crackled with anticipation as the teams entered their final lap, but Jackson wasn’t worried. He was already a pro at Super Corsa 2, and he barely moved as his car snagged the first place position yet again. AP had quickly followed him for second, and together their team had scored the most points. People around them cheered while AP jumped off his chair and punched his fists to the ceiling. Jackson simply laughed, he knew on the inside he’d win. His fingers had moved over the controller like he was meant to hold it even in the womb. AP had joked his fingers had their own biceps for how strong and controlled they were.
After they’d collected their winnings, they lingered in the bar for a bit. Jackson was nervous they’d be caught being underage but AP seemed to have no such fear. He wondered if being a billionaire’s son just meant people kept their mouths shut. He felt AP grasp his waist hard and maneuver him toward the bar. Jackson felt a weird jump in his chest but didn’t pull away. His waist burned where AP was gripping it.
AP shoved another drink in Jackson’s hand. “Try it,” he whispered in Jackson’s ear to be heard over the loud, thumping bar music. Jackson looked at AP’s flushed face and hazy eyes, wondering how many drinks the eighteen-year-old had already had. Jackson gingerly took a sip and his eyes lit up. The Moscow mule didn’t burn as much as the whiskey had. He finished the whole thing and felt his arm being pulled toward the exit. “Where are we going?”
But AP didn’t say anything until they were out of the bar and into the quieter warm air. Los Angeles was sultry even at night, and Jackson immediately missed the AC in the bar. They walked down the street, still buzzed from the drinks and the high of winning yet another tournament. Even at midnight it was still lively. “I’m thinking of buying a racing team.”
Jackson slowed, “like real life racing?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“I want all the racing benefits without having to get in the car.” AP said slowly.
Jackson frowned, “why?”
AP sighed, “remember that guy from Vitoline last week in Alabama? He drifted too much on the turn and hit the wall, his car literally flipped and crashed. They had to airlift him out and he’s out for the season, maybe the whole year.” He said, “I want to be close to all the racing and not have to worry about my life, man.”
Jackson started blankly, “dude, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
AP chuckled, “how are you so good at racing games and have no idea about real world racing?”
The sixteen-year-old shrugged, “I like the game, doesn’t mean I have to know about it in real life.” Inside he shuddered, he didn’t want to be on the track either and stuck in a fast-paced, dangerous, fire hazard of a situation. He liked his safe cocoon of screen and controller, thank you very much.
“Well I’m going to buy a racing team and sponsor them.” AP said with finality.
Jackson laughed, “with what money?” AP scoffed and looked affronted.
“My dad’s obviously, his business is gonna go to me anyway.”
AP stopped walking and looked at Jackson, “you know, you always look really intense when you’re in the zone.”
Jackson smiled uneasily, the alcohol still sloshing around his belly, “yeah so?”
AP faced him, “it’s nothing, I just mentioned it.” He stared at Jackson’s face. He put his hand on Jackson’s shoulder and licked his lips. Jackson swallowed, unsure where this was going. AP’s face was really close and Jackson could smell the alcohol in his breath.
“What are you doing,” Jackson whispered. AP leaned closer, and barely brushed his lips to Jackson’s. The younger inhaled sharply, squeezed his eyes shut, then pushed his lips forward hard.
“Ow what the fuck,” AP gasped, rubbing at his lower lip. To Jackson’s horror, there was a bit of blood on AP’s mouth. But AP recovered and laughed, pulling Jackson close again, molding his lips gently over Jackson’s. The younger didn’t move, too afraid of hurting the other again. He let AP move his mouth gently over his, and it felt warm and kind of nice. His head spun, how long had AP wanted to do this? Was he gay? Was Jackson gay?
It ended quickly, and Jackson stared at AP’s face. AP pushed Jackson gently against the side of a building and kissed him again. His body was warm and firm on Jackson’s and he felt something stir. Jackson grasped AP’s shoulders while the older maneuvered his body to fit between Jackson’s legs as they kissed. Jackson felt the warm slide of AP’s tongue and he parted his mouth in surprise, maybe confusion. AP groaned as their tongues slid together. He ground against Jackson’s body and everything felt too hot. AP changed his direction just right and Jackson felt the warm wetness of release in his jeans. He scowled, it felt sticky and horrible like he peed his pants.
AP laughed, then sighed as he came soon after. “What was that?” Jackson asked as the air cooled down.
“Don’t know, it just felt good,” AP said. They walked back to his car and AP drove Jackson home that night. As Jackson trudged through his front door and headed for his shower, he wasn’t sure what just happened.