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Chapter 3: Evergone I

The Mayers Estate was originally a property owned by Andrew's father, Max, and sold to Christian Mayers, his brother.

Ever since his father passed away five years ago, this is the place Andrews has seen and slept under, for most of the time, on his own. His uncle Christian was married to a renowned British businesswoman called Gemma Wingfield; due to her insistence, the couple spent most of their time in Britain.

Andrew walked by and greeted the concierge, his name was Alex, a middle-aged man and he was one of the few people Andrew had regular social contact with within this building.

"Good evening Andrew, everything okay? you arrived later than usual" The concierge caught sight of Andrew whose clothes were a little wet, indicating that he had been exposed to the drizzle of Manhattan.

"Good evening Mr Alex, I decided to walk back today with this little fellow" Andrew smiled, pointing at the cat in his embrace, precisely the spot that the concierge was analysing.

"W-What little fellow?" The man smiled, figuring out it was just another one of Andrew's oddities, although he liked the boy quite a bit, he did believe the future heir of the Mayers family had a few screws loose.

"..." Andrew gasped and looked at the cat in his embrace.

*Meow!*

"F-Forget it. Is my uncle home?" He decided to ignore everything like it was the most common thing in the world. It wasn't the first time it happened either. All he wished was that he could at least differentiate them to avoid these awkward scenarios.

"Mr Mayers isn't home... I haven't received any instruction from him either, he must not have any complaints" The man scratched his head awkwardly, unable to wrap his head around how despite their conversation, Andrew was still 'holding' something or at least he was pretending to be.

'I wonder what is it this time? another dog? a bird?'

Andrew ignored the man's contemplating expression and sighed in relief, his uncle was not one to reward achievements but instead, he was one to heavily criticise failure. So long as his marks were perfect at school, he wouldn't complain. And those complaints would usually reach him either through his phone, the school's director or this concierge.

"I see, nice work as always Alex, have a good night" With nothing else to enquire, Andrew dismissed himself and walked up to the elevator.

"You too, don't stay late!" the concierge waved his hands.

Andrew sighed and carried his now-identified ghost cat into the elevator.

When the doors opened, a person came out, a blonde middle-aged lady dressed in a black one-piece dress. He recognised her alluring self right away. Maya Stewart, a famous and rich plastic surgeon who lived in the complex with a salary in the six figures every month.

"Oh, Mrs Maya..." He greet her and made way for her since she looked like she was in a rush.

"Andrew! long time no see! you never come to my place for a visit" She beauty immediately jumped on him and took both of his cheeks together, squishing them, "coming back from school? so late?"

"Yesh... please stop, it is going to leave a mark" when the lady finaly released his cheeks, Andrew rubbed them with a deadpan.

"Sorry~ it is your fault for being so squishable".

"And you, Mrs Maya? where are you going? you look... stunning" He said politely and without the slightest bit of flirting intent, it was merely his honesty speaking forward. Andrew was not introverted by any means, moreover... he had it easier to talk with older women such as Maya instead of young gold diggers like Clare.

His remark only made the girl embrace him and squish his cheeks again, this time the boy had to blush when he was pressed against the beauty's ample bosom which to this day he didn't know if it was authentic or not.

He heard two jealous snickers, one of them was from Alex and the other... he could only assume it was the pesky ghost cat.

"As cute as always~ I'm going to my friend's wedding but I'm late! if you want I can come around and cook something for you later?"

"Well, you shouldn't bother-" He scratched his head.

"Nonsense! It is not a bother at all, sweetheart. If you excuse me, I'll text you later and we can arrange it".

He nodded albeit reluctantly and saw how the mature beauty somehow managed to run to the parking lot with only her purse as if she was an expert at using heels, there... a Ferrari awaited her.

The reason he was reluctant was that his father had financed the beauty company, this was a debt that she had paid him later although he suspected the lady had the hots for his father previously. She was quite condescending and spoiling, but Andrew could never know if those were her genuine feelings, or if he was being treated that way because he was Max Mayers' son.

*Meow!*

"Yeah I know, she looks nice" Andrew entered the elevator together with the cat and the doors closed.

*Meow Meow!* The cat mewed quite insistently for some reason.

"Talk to her for what, are you mad? she's twenty years older than me!"

*Meow! me-meow!*

"Where there is a hole there is a possibility? who taught you that?! so naughty!"

...

The elevator doors opened and all of the lights switched on in the three-floor penthouse with more than ten rooms, five toilets, three living rooms and a gigantic balcony. All of this; is just for a single person, and a small ghost cat.

"I hope you stay for at least two days... at least I don't have to purchase food for you. Your name is Pickle from now on, come on, make yourself home".

*Meow!*

To say the cat was surprised by the luxury was an understatement, the floor was so polished that it could slide on it. Marble floor, marble walls, sculpted marble and granite everywhere.

Andrew's daily routine was simple. He went to his room, and he could choose whichever he wanted, but he took the smallest one since the double suite gave him anxiety. Undress; take a nice bath and then prepare either an omelette or some toast.

"Or I could get some delivery, but... I don't feel like it, moreover... money is short this week since I had to get those books".

He sighed and headed to the living room wrapped in just a towel.


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