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The Trial - Chapter 1

Hello everyone!

As my first post, I’d like to present to you the first chapter of my first series called The Trial. It’s based on a roleplay scenario I did with a very dear friend of mine, and we both really like how it turned out, so he gave me consent to write it as a regular narrative and post it here.

The Trial is the story of Chris Greene, a foster kid who made it into a prestigious law school and got a very big internship at a fancy law firm. What at first seemed like heaven turns into hell when Chris is forced to face a ghost from his past: the very first big case he’s going to work on will be defending Logan Archibald, his former father-in-law who was responsible for the break up of his engagement two and a half years before. To make matters worse, he’ll have to work side by side with his ex-fiancé, Jake Archibald, who broke things up unexpectedly and without giving any sort of reason. Will Chris be able to let his past go and defend the man who hates him? Will he find out what’s behind the event that changed his life forever?

This story will be posted on a weekly basis on my Patreon page. Chapter 2 is already available there, so make sure you subscribe to keep reading the story!

https://www.patreon.com/tatotellstories

1

“You can let them in, Sally, thank you” Mr. Williamson said, pressing the button on the intercom that had buzzed just a second ago. Chris held his breath, getting ready for the sight of him walking into the conference room: the one who once meant everything, who proposed and then a month later came into Chris’s room to break everything up, ask for the engagement ring back and crush all those dreams and hopes with one swift blow. There was no notice, no reason, no nothing, just a simple ‘We can’t get married. I’m sorry’ uttered in a tone of voice Chris had never heard coming from his lips; not that any further explanation was needed: it was obvious that the whole thing was due to his father finding out about their relationship before he got access to his trust fund. That’s what Chris got for being with a frat boy, someone that was way out of his league and who could get anyone he wanted; three years… ended just like that, as if it meant nothing, as if they were wasted.

Now, over two years after the whole ordeal, Chris was sitting in the fancy conference room of the prestigious firm in which he got his internship. All his effort was going to bear fruit, and Chris was beyond himself, working harder than anyone to show his supervisor he was worth it, that he could handle any assignment or case the firm needed him to; what Chris didn’t expect was that he would have to work on a major sexual harassment one involving none other than the man who hated him, who destroyed his chance of happiness, of having a real family: Logan Archibald, son of the famous conservative senator Harold Archibald and father of… him, the one who was heading to the conference room right now along his father and grandfather, the one who years ago was smiling by the pool of his fraternity house during a party, the very first one Chris attended in college.

Chris was just 19, on his first month at Wollenberg University, and got dragged by his roommate to the annual pool party that was supposed to be the major social event on campus. Being surrounded by overprivileged frat boys was something that Chris was absolutely not used to and the thought made him anxious; he was a foster kid who jumped from house to house all around the state, who lived with the bare minimum and had to bust his ass off for every single thing he had, including the scholarship won by academic merit. Even now, when he closed his eyes, Chris could clearly see the white fence of the large house where the party was being held, hear the loud music and see him sitting there, feet in the water, body covered with drops, blond hair still wet, blue eyes filled with that carefree joy only rich youth had. Jacob, Jake, the one who got away… or better, the one who ran away; even his name made Chris shiver and each second that passed was filled with the dread that anticipated an awkward and painful moment. Jake was on his last year when they met, ready to follow his father’s footsteps and go to law school after his graduation, to one day take over the family business and continue being rich, to marry some rich girl, have rich babies. Not someone who would even look at a foster kid.

But he did. For three years they were together, and Jake didn’t do anything else but to look at Chris. And that was something that blew his mind, because there was absolutely no logical reason for it; since the party where they met, Chris saw Jake everywhere he went: the library, the cafeteria, even some study groups. He was reluctant at first, even suspicious – he had been bullied before, been the victim of pranks –, but Jake managed to break all those walls and sneak into his life, and Chris was happy for once, truly happy. For three years. Then Jake was gone. All calls were ignored, and for over two years Chris fought the urge to go after him, stalk his social media, google him. It wasn’t worth it, and he probably wouldn’t like what he would find: Jake, now a lawyer probably, engaged to some girl, maybe even married. So much could have happened in that time… the only thing that wouldn’t change was the indisputable truth that it was over. Jake was gone.

And now Chris was there inside the conference room of the law firm he fought so much to intern at, watching the door closely, knowing Jake, his father and his grandfather were walking towards it. Chris held his breath once again… the doorknob was turning.

*

Two weeks earlier

Chris took a deep breath as he looked up to the tall, imposing building in front of him; it was his very first day at Williamson, Smith & Loeb’s working as an intern – a paid one, a position any law student would kill for. All his classmates coveted the job and the selection process was absurdly competitive, but he got it; he nailed the academic criteria and managed to impress even the most unimpressible partners that interviewed him. Chris looked into the glass doors and took a second to check if his short brown hair was properly combed, if his glasses were not dirty and if his tie knot was not messed up; everything was fine, so he stared at himself, looking deep into his own green eyes and smiled reassuringly before he went in.

“Good morning, what can I help you with?” The middle aged woman behind the front desk asked with a straight face – not friendly, but also not rude; just the right amount of polite you’d expect from a law firm receptionist.

“Good morning” Chris couldn’t stop smiling “My name is Chris Greene and I’ve just been recently hired”

“Oh, yes, you’re the new intern” She nodded, as if she just remembered someone new was about to start “Let me check if your Company ID is ready” She opened one of the drawers and looked for it, smiling when she found it. After giving it a quick look over to Chris to check if he was the same person on the badge, she handed it to him "Welcome to Williamson, Smith & Loeb, Chris. Name’s Sally Pearson and I hope you do well here” Sally smiled for the first time, and it was a comforting one that managed to ease some of his anxiety.

“Thank you, Mrs. Pearson”

“Just Sally, dear. Now go straight to the 10th floor; Miranda will be waiting for you with the information you need”

Chris nodded and headed to the access turnstile, eyes glowing when it opened as he placed his badge on the reader; Sally’s smile and that green light were all the reassurance he needed to quell his heart and calm his stomach down – no matter how many times he succeeded, his insecurities always kicked in when it came to feeling like he belonged somewhere, and in his mind he was still just a foster kid who didn’t have a place of his own. Chris had never been mistreated by any of the families he lived with; they were all nice and gave him whatever he needed for school, took him to trips and even bought him presents every now and then. However, some things were not within his reach: he never had a car, a laptop of his own, an allowance that actually allowed him to do whatever kids his age did; but most important, Chris never had a home, and whenever something big happened he was never included in the plans – one of his foster families moved away and their new house couldn’t accommodate him anymore; or an unexpected pregnancy changed things; or the foster family started not being too comfortable hosting a teenager, despite the fact that Chris had been living with them since he was 10; it was always temporary, always a favor, even if not rubbed on his face.

When he turned 18, he managed to live on his own with some of the money he got access to – his parents had a small amount of it, and it was kept in a savings account after their death waiting for him to be old enough to use it – and the paychecks from a part time job at the local Walmart. But again, everything was a sort of ‘in between’, until he left for college and made friends, had sleepovers, went to parties… met Jake and finally had a boyfriend, someone that cared for him in a deeper way. Or seemed to for a while: even that was temporary, and Chris started thinking living was moving in between the in betweens, enjoying everything while it lasted. Right now, the green light granting access to the elevators was his home, and it was a damn good one. He went into the elevator, holding the door to someone who just came across the turnstiles and who greeted him as if he had always worked there.

“Can you press the 7th, please?”

“Sure” Chris pressed the buttons to their respective floors.

“Did you watch the game last night?”

“Yeah, it was great” He had absolutely no idea which game the man was talking about.

“Tight score! For a while I thought the Mets would lose” The man said in relief.

“Oh, you’re a Mets fan…” Chris said with a small eye roll. He learned that giving this kind of answer was the safest bet, as it would force the other person to either talk about the other team or end the discussion faster.

“Don’t tell me you were rooting for the Braves?!”

“Hey, are you gonna judge me now?” Chris chuckled and the man soon followed.

“Alright, alright… can’t judge a man for his tastes, even when they’re bad” The elevator stopped on the 7th “This is me. Let’s discuss this some time while we watch the Braves get crushed, shall we?” The man said as he stepped out.

“Drinks are on me” Chris answered with a smile and gave his coworker a thumbs up right before the doors closed. It may seem like it was a stupid strategy, but saying he was not into sports or wasn’t aware of any games would create a barrier – and he was sick of things that kept him apart from other people; that guy would probably forget about him by the end of the day, but for the brief amount of time they spent together they were old friends, and Chris could definitely use some.

The doors opened on the 10th floor and Chris walked out, spotting Miranda’s desk. He headed over there calculating each step: he didn’t want to seem too eager nor too tardy; this was something important to him: act as if he belonged, as if things were naturally easy for him to deal with. “Good morning, I’m…”

“Chris Greene” Miranda said before he could; she didn’t seem nearly as nice as Sally “Front desk called informing you arrived. You’re early”

“A better option than late” Chris answered, trying to match her objectivity.

“And witty. We’re going to get along” She said with a slight curve on the corner of her lips, almost imperceptible; Chris figured out quickly that’s the closest he would get to a smile from the woman in front of him “Your supervisor is waiting for you; I suppose you’ve heard of Mark Johnson” Chris’s jaw dropped. Johnson was one of the most famous lawyers the firm had; even though he was still 35 years old, he was known for winning even the most absurdly difficult cases – people called him the ‘jury charmer’.

“Yes, we’ve studied some of his cases” He did his best to keep his voice steady.

“There’s no need to panic, Mr. Greene” Miranda said in a very specific tone that was half annoyed, half reassuring, the one people used whenever someone was freaking out over nothing “You’re in one of the most respectable work places in the city – or better, in the country. HR doesn’t assign interns to supervisors randomly, and if you’re working for Mr. Johnson it’s because you were chosen to do it; in fact, he probably asked to be your supervisor”

Chris was dumbfounded “But…”

“Please, spare me. I got curious and looked into your file and it’s quite impressive” She said in the same tone as before “You’ll do just fine. Now go ahead and introduce yourself; his office is the last one on the hallway to the left”

“Thank you, ma’am”

“It’s miss” She raised her eyebrow “I like you, but don’t push it”

“Thank you, miss” Chris said, blushing a bit, as he ambled towards the hallway she indicated, his heart thumping inside his chest with every step he took towards the office at the end. Even the sight of the door was imposing, as if it wasn’t just another plank of wood used to separate two different parts of a building but a portal to some other dimension where he would have a lot to measure up to. When he got there, Chris did his ritual of holding his breath before knocking – in case the world would run out of oxygen when he heard the deep voice on the other side say “Come in”

Chris opened the door and stepped in “Mr. Johnson, I’m…”

“Oh, Chris!” The man said excited, getting up “Come in, come in!”

“Of course, sir” Mark’s reaction was completely different from what Chris expected: Mark sounded eager, as if he was the one about to meet someone important.

“It's Mark” He said, shaking his head “We’re going to be working together and I don’t want any excessive formality between us” Mark reaches his hand out to Chris, who gives him the firmest handshake he could.

“It’s an honor, sir… I mean, Mark”

“Likewise. Your file was pretty impressive, and all the lawyers wanted to supervise you” Mark smiled wide, clearly happy with meeting him “Thankfully I have some privileges around here and got to snatch you before they could”

Chris couldn’t help but blush, as it was extremely flattering to be treated as a prize by someone like Mark Johnson “I hope I can measure up to your expectations”

“Oh, I’m sure you will, Chris” Mark said reassuringly “But I don’t want you to put excessive pressure on yourself. Just relax and do as instructed; I’m not going to demand anything unreasonable. Now tell me, how’s your day so far?” Mark asked in a kind tone, pointing to a chair across from his desk. Chris sat down, feeling a heavy weight being lifted from his shoulders, and answered his supervisor’s question casually, keeping the tone of the conversation light.

Mark seemed interested in hearing everything Chris had to say, and it didn’t take long for him to be comfortable. Some of the questions were personal, but not overly, and Chris was happy to hear Mark comment on his answers with information about himself as well; it was more of an ice breaker than an interview or a lecture, and Chris was smiling the whole time – belonging was the most important thing to him, and Mark made him feel at home. After about 15 minutes of chatting, the phone rang and Mark answered it “Yes, Miranda. Oh, that’s good to hear. Can you ask her to hold while I finish giving Chris his first task? Thank you” He looked at Chris before hanging up “Conversation was nice, but as you can see we don’t have many idle moments here”

“That’s good to know, Mark, I’m eager to start learning and helping in any way I can” Chris answered with a smile.

“Hard working, as I expected you to be” Mark got up and motioned for Chris to follow him into the hall. He opened a small office, right next to his “You’ll be working here, close to me, so if you need anything I’m just a step away” Chris nodded and Mark continued “You have all the log in information you need on that folder on your desk and Miranda will be bringing you some work to do; for now, all I want you to do is organize some files for the case I’m working on. Paperwork is a mess sometimes and I hadn’t had the time to sort things out; just pay attention to the dates on each document and put them in chronological order”

Chris nodded to sign he understood “Do you want me to file them together by month or week?”

“Monthly will do just fine” Mark smiled and patted Chris on the back “If you have any questions, just let me or Miranda know”

“Will do, sir…” Mark gave him a look “I mean, Mark” Chris corrected himself as Mark walked back into his office, smiling. Chris was beyond himself when he closed his own door, in his own office and sat by his own desk, on a very comfortable chair that soon would be molded to himself. He closed his eyes and took another deep breath, but this time it was all about savoring the moment – his moment, the result of all his hard work. For a second, he thought about Jake and wished he could grab his phone and text him, tell him how perfect everything was, but Chris shook it off quickly; he wasn’t going to go there, follow that road. He opened his eyes and looked into the folder with all the log in instructions and turned his computer on; before long, he was able to get familiar with the firm’s system and access all its features. He was reading the firm’s welcome e-mails when a knock on his door interrupted him “Yeah?” He said and Miranda opened it, pushing a cart with several folders.

“These are the files Mr. Johnson wants you to organize” She handed them to him one by one and Chris was surprised with how heavy they were “Try to get it done by Wednesday”

“I’ll do my best” He answered, hoping he’d be able to do it; there were so many documents, a year worth of paperwork.

“If you need any help, don’t hesitate in calling. Numbers are by the phone” Miranda said as she walked out, closing the door behind her. Chris set the folders on his desk and took his jacket off, placing it on the back of his chair, thinking of the best way to start working. Being methodical and having experience working at places that were not fancy helped him a lot: most interns would struggle handling all the files, sitting on their chairs without enough space to sort the documents; instead of doing that, decided to just sit down on the floor and sort the documents in piles based on each month, then he’d have an idea of how many folders he’d need. Also, instead of reading each piece of paper he just scanned the sheets, looking for words that started with capital letters as they’d lead him to each month; he had no idea what each document was about, but he was able to organize the first folder in no time, seeing about five piles form in front of him.

Chris worked without taking any breaks, going through each folder like a machine, and before he knew it, things were sorted out. He had more empty folders than piles, and those were uneven, so, instead of simply grabbing each pile and placing it in a folder, he went through the documents again and looked for more specific dates – that allowed him to divide the highest piles in weeks, making it easier to find documents. As he organized the files like that, he was able to get a better look at their content and learned he was working on the case of some rich businessman trying to get rid of tax evasion charges; it was all over the news, and Chris wasn’t surprised to see that Mark was handling it – in the end, being a lawyer in a prestigious firm like Williamson, Smith & Loeb was all about helping rich people get away with their bullshit.

It wasn’t exactly noble, but it paid well, and Chris couldn’t afford to think like some self righteous small time attorney; he had ambitions, he wanted things and he knew he wasn’t going to be able to help anyone before he helped himself. One day he was going to have enough money to live comfortably and would have the time to dedicate himself to charity work, but not now, not before he’d get to taste a life he never had. He always thought it was funny how his classmates asked him if he planned on ‘helping kids like him’, becoming a public servant or doing social work, but no one ever asked anyone else things like that; no one expected his classmates who came from money to dedicate their time to noble causes – people like Jake were exempt of that kind of pressure, of having to explain themselves to others, justify every action they took. Chris felt like he had to come up with excuses for everything, and the past few months were a pain in the ass “Woah, you’re applying to Williamson, Smith & Loeb? I thought you were going to try to get that other position as a public attorney assistant!” was something he heard from several times. He just smiled and shook his head, while thinking ‘Why don’t you go for that? Daddy gives you money, you can afford to take an unpaid internship, jackass’. That’s why it was so important for him to belong, to fit right in: he was tired of feeling like an outsider wherever he went, of seeing dumb, rich kids walking about as if the world belong to them while he was constantly feeling inadequate.

As he thought of all that, his body worked on auto-pilot, scanning the documents and putting them in order, and even though he wasn’t paying any special attention to content, he couldn’t help but notice there wasn’t a single file about any charity project – and he knew Mr. DeLuco, the man being charged, was always on the news boasting about how much he helped poor people. After he was done organizing everything, he placed the folders on his desk and walked to Mark’s office, knocking gently on the door. “Yes?”

“I have a question about the files” Chris said as he walked in.

“What about them? Are you having trouble figuring out the dates?”

“No, not at all, I finished sorting things out”

Mark raised his eyebrow “You finished organizing a whole year worth of documents in a day?”

“Uhh, yes… I haven’t stopped since I started”

“You didn’t stop?!” Mark went high pitched “Chris, it’s almost five! You didn’t have lunch?!”

“No, I didn’t" He hadn’t realized it until now. Chris’s tone was apologetic, as if he was a boy who got caught misbehaving.

“Good lord, don’t do that!” Mark was surprised, and not in a good way it seemed “It’s easy to get caught up in whatever it is that you’re doing, so pay attention to it” Chris nodded in response and Mark let out a sigh “Anyway, what was the question?”

“I think there are some documents missing”

“Miranda should have given you everything we have”

“All I had were bank statements, detailed reports of his many deals with other companies, data about his spending habits and things like that”

“Yes, that’s about it, you shouldn’t be missing anything” Mark said, clearly not understanding Chris’s point.

“But what about Mr. DeLuco’s charity work?”

“I'm not following”

“Well, he’s being charged with tax evasion, or so I’ve heard” Mark nodded, signaling Chris to continue “Shouldn’t we have that kind of information to see how much we can deduct from whatever amount he supposedly owes? Maybe some of the charity will be admissible, if we can tie it to him personally and not to one of his companies. His wife should probably have something we can use, they’re always on the paper at some function or other, and���” Mark was blinking, staring at what seemed like nothing as Chris talked; great, on the very first day he was asking stupid questions about a simple task “Sorry, I probably shouldn’t be…”

“We had three different lawyers working on that case – myself included” Mark started talking over Chris, who braced himself expecting a snarky reply “And we were so caught up trying to figure out a way to bend the numbers, that none of us idiots noticed there was nothing in there about charity!” Mark started laughing nervously and Chris had no idea how to act “God, it’s so obvious…” He reached for the phone and dialed “Miranda, get Joshua and Travis to come to my office as soon as possible and contact Mr. DeLuco’s office for me, please… we have important information to get” Mark then looked at Chris with a big smile “And then get a meal for Chris; poor kid worked his ass off and didn’t stop to have lunch. Thanks”

Chris’s jaw dropped “Sir, I…”

“It’s Mark” The smile was plastered on his supervisor’s face “Now go take the folders to Miranda and come back here. I want you to help us figure this thing out”

“Of course” Chris smiled back, not believing what just happened “I'll be right back”

“Take your time” Mark said as the phone rang “Yes? You have his office on the line? Transfer the call please…” Was the last thing Chris heard before closing the door. He grabbed the first cart he found and quickly took the folders to Miranda.

“Mr. Johnson asked me to bring those to you”

“You finished it” She sounded impressed “What are you? Superman?” Chris rubbed the back of his head and just shrugged “Anyway, you shouldn’t be skipping any meals around here, okay? Mr. Johnson takes his interns well being very seriously”

“It won’t happen again” He nodded, embarrassed.

“I told you you had nothing to worry about, didn’t I?”

“I guess you did” Chris chuckled then confessed “I'm a bit insecure sometimes”

“Well, don’t be. You made it here, kid, and that says something” Miranda was now smiling warmly; she opened a drawer and grabbed a menu “Now get something to eat; firm will pay for it, so don’t worry about prices. You earned it”

Chris stared at the menu from the fancy restaurant, beyond himself. He pictured his first day at work in many different ways – several of them in which he made a fool of himself and got himself fired, like a dumbass; it didn’t seem real that he would be there, doing well, it was too good to be true. But, lo and behold, there he was browsing through lunch options, being taken care of as if… no, not as if… because he belonged somewhere – and that somewhere was a very important place. Chris felt truly happy for the first time in a very long while, ever since Jake had left him, and that afternoon it seemed like things were finally going to work out for him, like all the hurt would stop and life would stop throwing curve balls at him – Chris finally felt safe, and for the first time in years he allowed himself to breathe normally.