SCENE IV
DES
Des sighed, stretching out the kinks in his back. It was a couple of weeks later, and he had been sitting in the same spot, working on a painting for class. After finishing the last part, he cleaned up, left it to dry, and went to eat.
Once he got to the kitchen, he made a sandwich and picked up his phone. He then scanned his social media accounts, where he had posted a few of his paintings under a pseudonym. He had garnered a small following that he wouldn't call a fan club, but they loved his work.
He thought about selling the little stock he had but wasn't sure anyone would buy his work. He knew he needed to improve his technique but wasn't in a rush. Des almost choked on his sandwich when breaking news flashed across the screen.
Senate candidate David Ellington's home was just raided and searched today by the FBI under the suspicion of running a Ponzi scheme, defrauding his investors out of millions.
"Holy shit, Dad, what the fuck did you do?" Des whispered as he furiously scanned the article.
He got up from the table and hurried into the living room, switching on the television. Since it was breaking news, he didn’t need to search for any other channel. Des sat transfixed, listening to the report, and couldn't believe what they were saying about his father.
He was startled when there was a knock at his door. Frowning, he put the remote down and went to answer it, becoming equally confused when he didn't recognize the person.
"Yes, can I help you?"
"Desmond Ellington," the man said.
"Yeah, that's me."
The man reached into his coat pocket and took out a wallet with a police badge. "I'm Detective Leonard Oz. Is it alright if I come in and ask you some questions regarding your father?"
Des looked into the tall detective's brown eyes. "You don't need to come in. I can answer them right now," Des said.
"What's going on here?" said another voice that Des recognized.
Detective Oz stepped to the side, revealing Othello standing there.
"Othello Moor," Oz said in a tone that Des could only describe as unfriendly. "What the hell are you doing here?"
Othello quirked a brow, smirking. "Is there a problem with me coming to see my lover, Detective?"
"Lover," Oz gasped, then looked at Des. "Is what he said true?"
What the hell is wrong with this man?"Yes."
"Do you know who he really is, Mister Ellington?" Oz asked. “How he makes his money?”
"What does me knowing what Othello does for a living have to do with why you're here? You came to ask me questions about my father, which I know nothing about."
While Des spoke, Othello approached him, kissed him on the side of his head, and entered his apartment. The detective didn't take his eyes off Othello the entire time.
"Are we done here?" Des asked, getting the detective to focus on him.
"No," Oz answered. "When was the last time you spoke to your father?"
"Six months ago when I told him to stay the fuck out of my life."
"Why's that, if you don't mind me asking?"
"That's personal," Des responded. "But if you have any more questions, you can contact my lawyer, Erin Graham." Before the detective could say more, Des closed the door in his face. Turning, he faced Othello, who had removed his coat and jacket, loosened his tie and the top three buttons on his shirt, and was lounging on the couch with his eyes closed, but Des knew he wasn't sleeping.
"I have one question for you," Des said.
"Only one? I figured you'd have more," he said, opening his eyes and looking at Des.
