The Gifted Child (Part 1)

[Jaypat]

Link to Chapter 2
LInk to Chapter 3
Link to Chapter 4
Link to Chapter 5
[COLOR=#d5d5d5]Link to Chpater 6[/COLOR]
Link to Chapter 7


“No Doctor,” the young man said, pushing the sheaf of papers back across the table. “I read about all of this in your company’s prospectus. I want to hear about your other work.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said the ageing, bespectacled man. “What other work?”

“The work you’re doing with stem cells, with the human genome—biological enhancement.”

I could see the older man pale. It was clear Young Master Phips had hit a nerve. Of course Evan Phips was always hitting nerves. It was a particular talent of his. He’d practically destroyed my nerves the first time I met him.

I was twenty, just a month away from getting my doctorate in psychology. My specialization was dealing with gifted children. You see I was a bright boy myself and I knew the kind of social and psychological hell growing up being ten times smarter than everyone around you could be. I envisioned spending my life helping kids, much like myself, deal with adolescence and other life traumas.

I never envisioned Evan Phips.

When the call came, it wasn’t exactly a surprise. I had been actively exploring post-graduate opportunities, however when the woman at the other end of the line mentioned she was calling from the Phips Foundation, it did catch me a little off guard.

“I don’t remember reaching out to the Phips Foundation,” I said, almost talking to myself.

“You didn’t,” she said. “Mr. Phips never waits for the right people to come to him. He goes to them.”

Now she really had my attention. She had to be talking about Malcolm Phips, robber baron for the twenty-first century. There weren’t many companies out there that he didn’t either own or have his fingers in. But what did he want with me?

“So shall we say ten o’clock tomorrow?” the woman asked, interrupting my reverie.

“Ten o’clock would be fine,” I said. I couldn’t imagine what this could be about, but my curiosity was overwhelming me. I couldn’t think of anything else the rest of the day and I didn’t get much sleep that night. So I wasn’t exactly at my best when I presented myself at the Phips Foundation ten minutes before ten o’clock the next morning.

I was quickly escorted to a lavish office, wood paneling, antique furniture, expensive rugs. At ten sharp the door flew open and in walked Malcolm Phips, himself. I never imagined I’d be interviewing with him, but I have to say the sight of him was a little underwhelming. Being five foot ten inches in height, I rarely feel tall, but next to Phips I did. He couldn’t have been much more than five foot four and he was thin as a rail. He had thin hair, thick glasses, and red eyes that looked slightly runny.

He crossed the room barely giving me a glance and then slipped behind a huge antique mahogany desk that completely dwarfed him. I couldn’t help but imagine the diminutive tycoon seated on two or three phonebooks piled on his chair just so he could see over his desk. I had to bite my tongue to keep from chuckling.

“Thank you for coming, Mr. Conroy,” he said.

“Thank you for seeing me, Mr. Phips,” I replied.

“I’ll get right to the point,” he said. “I have a fifteen year old son, Mr. Conroy, Evan. Perhaps you’ve heard of him.”

The comings and goings of the rich and famous never interested me so I simply said, “No, I’m sorry.”

“Pity,” he said. “Evan is exceptionally bright. His IQ is well past genius level.”

“You must be very proud,” I said.

“Yes, proud,” said Phips quickly as if he were getting the formalities out of the way. “Unfortunately he is displaying some alarming psychological tendencies.”

“Oh?”

“I am told he is in danger of developing into a sociopath.”

I couldn’t help but be amazed by his detached attitude. It was almost as though he were discussing an underperforming stock. I wondered if Evan weren’t the only sociopath in the family. “It sounds like you already have him in therapy,” I said.

“Unfortunately no,” said Phips. “He refuses treatment. He maintains there is nothing wrong with him and he doesn’t need help. As a psychologist, you should appreciate how difficult it is to help someone who doesn’t want to be helped.”

“It’s practically impossible,” I said.

“So, Mr. Conroy, at this point the question is: how do you feel about a job that is practically impossible?”

“I’ll talk to the boy,” I said, “but I can’t promise anything.”

“No, Mr. Conroy, you underestimate the level of commitment I am seeking from you. Evan will not talk to a psychologist, therefore when you meet him you can not be a psychologist.”

“That’s hardly ethical,” I said.

“Ethics do not concern me, Mr. Conroy, results do.”

“Well, I’m afraid ethics do concern me, Mr. Phips. So, if you’ll excuse me…” and I turned to leave.

“I’ll pay you two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”

That stopped me. “For what?” I said turning around.

“For your psychological profile of Evan. If you think you can help him, we will discuss further terms.”

“And how am I to develop a profile of him, if he won’t talk to me.”

“You look young enough to pass for a teen and you’re intelligent enough to operate on his level. Befriend him.”

“Under false pretenses?” I buried my head in my hands. “Mr. Phips, that is exactly the kind of behavior I teach kids like Evan to guard against. I certainly won’t engage in it.”

“There is another alternative, although you might find it slightly less appealing,” said Phips.

“I doubt that’s possible. What is it?”

“I am currently looking for a valet for Evan. You could take the post, temporarily of course, until you finish your profile. It would certainly give you a chance to observe him up close.”

That actually seemed plausible. If I were legitimately engaged in another profession, one where I could get to know him, I could always knock together a profile on him after the fact. That wouldn’t be unethical, would it? Who was I kidding? I was engaging in a massive rationalization. I was letting two hundred and fifty thousand dollars put me on very shaky ground. But there was one simple fact that would put a stop to the whole thing. “I don’t know anything about being a valet.”

“That is easily remedied,” said Phips, and before I could think too much about it, I was being whisked off in a car to the Phips estate. Evan was currently attending an exclusive private academy in upstate New York and wouldn’t be home until next month, and for the next four weeks I was mercilessly drilled in the art of being the perfect valet by Anton Jervis, Phips’ own valet. Phips did not want anyone knowing the true reason for my being there. He was afraid Evan would find out. So as far as the rest of the staff was concerned I was the new valet and nothing more. I learned all about the proper clothing for the proper occasion, how to anticipate my employer’s needs, and how to be invisible until needed, appear out of nowhere, and then fade back into the background when my job was finished. All in all it was a lot more complicated than I imagined, but fairly easily mastered. It amazed me how much attention the rich paid to the most trivial matters, such as how underwear must be folded, and how beds must turned down at precisely 8:12 every night. It bordered on the neurotic.

I’d have to say the hardest part was the need to be immaculately dressed at all times. I was a let-it-hang-where-it-falls kind of guy. Now, suddenly, I constantly needed to be in a flawlessly pressed suit with every hair in place. I was amazed how much emphasis was placed on personal appearance for someone who was meant to be invisible most of the time.

I was also instructed in Evan Phips’ personal preferences in dress, food, bedclothes, wash cloths and all manner of other personal articles. I was hoping to use this opportunity to begin my profile, but I soon realized this was futile. I was instructed that Evan’s toothbrush was to be laid out on a line exactly parallel to the side of his wash basin, precisely three inches away, and that the tube of tooth paste was to be placed one inch above it on a perpendicular line. I refused to believe any 15 year old could be that fastidious and began to wonder how many of his supposed preferences were really his and how many of them had been imposed upon him by the society he had grown up in.

I also noticed there were no photographs of Evan. I asked Anton about it and he told me that Young Master Phips, as I was instructed to call Evan, did not like to be photographed, and that part of my job would be to discretely position myself between him and any cameras I might espy. That was one of the few pieces of information that I could get out of him. I tried asking him about the relationship between Evan and his parents, but he refused to say anything, and I got an hour long lecture on the importance of discretion. The rest of the staff was pretty much the same. Trying to get them to say anything about the Phipses usually won me a dark stare and a cold shoulder.

The only thing I was able to divine for certain about Evan was his size, and that was from his clothing. It appeared he was of a kind with his father, short and slight. I wondered if there was any part of his mother in him, but I had not seen her. Come to mention it, I hadn’t seen Mr. Phips either. That wasn’t too surprising considering the size of the house. I think the Met might have been smaller; it certainly had fewer priceless works of art.

The month passed fairly quickly and before I knew it, Evan’s homecoming day had arrived. The house was in an uproar because a huge party had been planned to celebrate Evan’s high school graduation. He was graduating at fifteen. I, myself, had graduated when I was twelve. I couldn’t help but be a little smug about that. Since a valet had very little to do with party preparation, I spent most of the day in my modest room waiting for the moment when I would be presented to Evan. It was actually kind of silly but I felt myself getting a little nervous. Maybe it was because I’d spent the past month almost exclusively in the company of people who revered the Phips family as minor deities. I’d swear you’d think the sun rose and set on this over privileged family.

It was about noon when there was a knock on my door. “Please, come in,” I said expecting Anton. But when the door opened it was Malcolm Phips who strode into my room. I stood up at once—Anton’s training. It’s amazing how quickly it had become second nature to me. I was going to have a difficult time deprogramming myself when this was over.

“Mr. Phips,” I said.

“Please sit down, Mr. Conroy,” he said, and I did, although I continued to hold myself very stiffly, almost at attention. “There is another matter I’ve been meaning to discuss with you,” he said. “I’ve put it off because it’s a subject I’m not very comfortable with.”

From what I knew about Mr. Phips, that last statement could be characterized as an emotional outburst. “Go on,” I said, letting the psychologist emerge.

“I have been informed,” he began, “that my son has been exhibiting certain homosexual tendencies.”

“At his age,” I said, “it could just be an adolescent phase.”

“Yes, I realize that,” said Phips, “and I’m not foolish enough to believe that if he is… gay… there’s anything that can be done about it. But I shall want to know, one way or the other.”

“Well, I’ll do my best, but it can be difficult to differentiate a phase from—”

“Yes, quite,” said Phips, cutting me off. “We’ll have to rely on your other skills, then.”

“Other skills?” I questioned.

“Your gaydar, isn’t that what you people call it?”

“Mr. Phips,” I said, somewhat shocked and a little angry, “You’re going well outside the boundaries of a professional relationship. My personal situation has absolutely nothing to do with the job for which you hired me. Furthermore, I resent your prying into my private life.”

“Do you honestly think, Mr. Conroy, that I would let anyone come close to my family without first knowing everything there is to know about them? Kindly drop all pretenses at outrage. I require this service of you, and I require you to use all the tools at your disposal to accomplish it, and that is all that needs to be said of the matter.” Then Phips abruptly turned and left.

I had a lot to think about. At first I was so angry about Phips’ lack of regard for my privacy that I almost threw in the towel and left right then. But then I thought of Evan. If he really were gay and a prodigy, he would need guidance more than ever. I could really help him, and that was exactly what I’d spent the past eight years studying to do.

It was about four in the afternoon when Anton knocked on my door. I stood as he entered and looked me over.

“Yes, you’ll do,” he said. This was high praise coming from Anton. “Young Master Phips has just arrived. He will be in his room presently. You must have him washed and dressed for dinner by 5:30. Dinner will last precisely one hour. Then he must be dressed for the party and at the front door to greet his guests by 7:30. Is that understood?”

I nodded once. He looked at me and shook his head. “Personally I don’t think you’ll last a week. Young Master Phips is very hard on his valets. The last one went straight from here into a psychiatric ward.”

I tried not to smile. I found it amusing that Anton chose the moment before I was to meet Evan to impart this little informational gem. Little did he, or Evan, know that they were dealing with a trained psychologist and that mind games such as these had no effect on me.

Without a word I followed Anton down the narrow corridor of the domestic wing and into the much grander halls of the main house. We paused in front of Evan’s door and Anton knocked.

“What do you want?” came an annoyed and petulant voice from the other side. Anton took a deep breath, opened the door and strode in. I followed after. The room was a disaster area. I almost didn’t recognize it. A large open chest was in the middle of the floor and Evan was leaning half way into it apparently searching for something. Clothes and other items were flying out of it at a rapid rate.

“Excuse me, sir,” said Anton.

“Go away; I’m busy,” said Evan not even bothering to look up.

“Yes, sir,” said Anton. “This is your new valet, Justin.”

Suddenly Evan stopped his search and looked up at me, and I got my first real look at him. He was indeed a teenage version of his father, right down to the slightly watery eyes. And I couldn’t help notice the bruises and scratches. He was certainly no athlete so I concluded his injuries were probably the result of some bully’s attentions. Such things were frighteningly common with bright children, especially the small ones.

“Justin?” he questioned looking up at me. There was an expression on his face… I was trying to place it… It wasn’t quite a smile, and yet not a smirk either. And there was definitely a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Yes, sir,” I said.

“Thank you, Anton,” said Evan. “You may go.”

“Yes, Sir,” said Anton. “And may I say what a pleasure it is having you back with us again.”

“Yes, yes, get out,” snapped Evan.

Anton turned on his heal and walked through the door, leaving me alone with Evan. The fifteen-year-old looked me up and down and said, “You’re already an improvement on the last one. He was so old he could have been my grandfather.”

“Yes, Sir,” I said, fighting the psychologist in me and trying to remember Anton’s training. He said that no matter how outrageous the things said to me, I was to treat all remarks as if they were comments about the weather. “Would you care to shower before dinner?”

“I would if you would care to join me,” said Evan.

This kid was testing me. He didn’t waste anytime. Fortunately, both Anton’s training and my psychology background agreed on the response to this one. “I don’t think that would be appropriate, Sir.”

“I think it would be,” said Evan, and this time the leer was unmistakable.

“Will you be wearing your blue or gray blazer to dinner, Sir?” I asked, deciding to ignore his last remark.

“The blue,” he said, his eyes never leaving me.

I entered his voluminous closet and returned with his blue blazer only to find him standing stark naked in the center of the room, his clothes lying in a clump at his feet. If he was trying to seduce me this was probably a bad move. There wasn’t much to him. He was so short and so skinny. His arms and legs were so thin his elbows and knees were the widest things about them. I could see every one of his ribs, his chest was sunken and his tiny little cock was just a nub. To be honest, I found him slightly repulsive. My tastes ran to larger men, much larger men. Of course, none of this was relevant, because Evan was much younger than me and my patient, even if unofficially.

Without a word, I proceeded to the bathroom and turned the shower on. I had been instructed as to the exact temperature Evan preferred. When I turned around I found Evan standing directly behind me. If he’d been any closer he’d have been touching me. It startled me and I leapt back, getting myself partially drenched in the shower.

Evan laughed and said, “Boo.”

I jerked forward out of the shower and almost tripped over him. He just thought that was incredibly funny, and he was laughing as he stepped into the shower. “Don’t go anywhere,” he called out after me. “I’m not through with you. You can clean up my room while you wait—but don’t touch anything in the trunk.” And then I heard him start to hum the 1812 Overture.

I was beginning to form my first impressions of Evan. The kid was obviously in a lot of pain. I was sure some of it stemmed from the isolation all prodigies experience, the feeling of being alone in a crowd, of having no one understand you. And the general ostracism they usually experience as a result, which would have been further exacerbated by his homosexual impulses and his underdeveloped body. His aggressive bullying manor was a typical front many of these kids put up to protect themselves from further emotional trauma. All though he had obviously buried himself deep within acerbic armor, I did not think he was unreachable. Of course all this was based on the briefest of encounters. I would have to get to know him much better before I could be sure of any of this.

I bent down and started to gather the clothes he had scattered around the room. They were all dirty and I quickly deposited them in the clothes hamper where the maids would pick them up and take them to be laundered. From the state of his underwear it was pretty obvious Young Master Phips masturbated frequently, really not at all uncommon for a fifteen year old boy.

I was just about to drop the last pair of his soiled Jockeys into the hamper when I spotted Evan dripping wet and leaning against the bathroom door frame with only a towel draped around his neck. I realized he’d been watching me for some time. His little nub of a penis was at full mast.

“Are you finished ogling my briefs? I thought for a moment you were going to smell them.”

“Dinner will be served in fifteen minutes, Young Master Phips,” I said, once again ignoring him. “I’m told your father expects you on time.”

“My father expects a lot of things,” he said, still smirking. He turned around and showed me his back. Then he pulled the towel off from around his neck and held it out towards me. “Towel off my back, would you. I always have trouble reaching round there.

I took the towel from him. It only took a single stroke to wipe the water from his narrow back.

“You have strong hands,” he said as he whirled around, and before I knew what was happening he had buried his head in my chest and was inhaling deeply. “And you smell wonderful.” I wasn’t sure what to do. I couldn’t push him away, which was my first instinct. That would pretty much be the end of the experiment. The only other way I could respond was to stand there and wait until he finished. But if he went too far, I would have to put a stop to it.

He inhaled again, and stood back. “You have a magnificent bouquet,” he said. “And I’m not just talking about the cheep cologne. There’s an inherently masculine sent about you. It’s quite titillating. Now, please dry my chest.”

He stood with his arms outstretched, looking at me expectantly. I was already standing there with the towel, and he hadn’t really asked me to do anything inappropriate. I started just below his neck and moved quickly to his bellybutton.

“Now go lower,” he said. I looked up and he was grinning. Ok, that was it. He’d gone too far. I stood up and handed him the towel and turned to go.

“Wait,” he cried, laughing. “Wait.” But he had pushed me too far and I was finished. I made it to the door before he called, “Stop, Mr. Justin Conroy, the child child psychologist.” I stopped and turned to face him. He knew. He knew who I really was! And he must have always known.

The look on my face must have been truly comical, because he was rolling around on the floor, clutching his sides with laughter.

“What did you call me?” I asked.

He sat up and looked at me, grinning. “The child child psychologist. That’s what your professors at Columbia called you, or maybe you hadn’t heard that.”

As it happened, I hadn’t. But I put that little nugget aside for later. “Well,” I said, “I guess that’s the end of that.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I was really planning on playing along a little longer, but it was much harder to keep a straight face than I imagined.” Then he got up, went to his bed and began to dress himself in the clothes I had laid out for him.

“I must admit,” he continued, “it was one of my father’s more inspired ideas. Magna cum-laude at Columbia, and he’s got you shining my shoes.” He broke out in fresh peels of laughter.

I started laughing myself. It was kind of funny. “I guess I’d make a pretty lousy spy,” I said turning to go.

“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” he said. “Where are you going?”

“I think the experiment is over, Evan,” I said. “Time for me to go back to New York, where I belong.”

“No, no,” he said, “don’t be so hasty. I’d like you to stay.”

“Are you saying you’re open to counseling sessions?”

“I don’t need counseling,” he said, his good humor slipping for just a moment. “That’s a delusion of my father’s. No, I’d like you to stay because as long as you’re around he won’t send anyone else snooping after me. And I think I’d like the company of someone who’s almost as smart as I am. Plus, I wasn’t lying. You do smell divine.”

Almost as smart as he was? I was trying to decide if it was just bluster or if he really believed that. “Well, thank you Evan, but if you won’t be counseled, there’s not much incentive for me to stay.”

“Oh I think I can provide that,” he said, pulling on his blazer. “Come here.” He led me over to his computer which I could see had already been booted up. He hit a couple of keys and a picture flashed on the screen. I caught my breath. In the photo, Evan was standing naked with his head buried in my chest.

“The camera was set to take one photo every second,” he said. “So you can imagine what kind of photos I have, and they’re backed up in several locations across the globe. If just one of these were to get out, you’d be finished as a child psychologist.”

To say I was stunned would be a gross understatement. He was, of course, absolutely right. I was looking at the end of my career before it had even begun. And the casual matter-of-fact way Evan was presenting me with this ultimatum, helped me to see why his father suspected sociopathic tendencies.

“You don’t have to answer now,” he said. “I’ll be back up from dinner in an hour. Use the time to think it over.” He turned and headed for the door, but paused before he got there. “Oh,” he said, turning. “I’ll be wearing the Armani tux to the party tonight.” Then he was gone, whistling the 1812 Overture as he went.

I sat down on the bed, still in a state of shock. I had always thought I was so smart and yet somehow this kid had wrapped me around his little finger before I even suspected what was happening. Well, one thing was certain. I was not about to spend my life as his valet, even if psychology was closed to me. There were many other things I could do. But psychology was what I had my heart set on, and I couldn’t give it up that easily. I decided to try to talk to Evan, reason with him. I did not lay out his tux. And when he got back that was the first thing he noticed.

“No tux?” he said. “I’m disappointed.”

“I’m not going to spend my life laying out your clothes,” I said.

“Nor would I expect you to,” he returned. “I just need you for about a year.”

A year? Did I want to spend a year with this little monster?

“Come now,” he said. “One year for an entire career. Is that such a hard trade to make? After that, if you want to leave, you’ll be free to go.”

“I assure you,” I said, “I will want to.”

“Don’t be so sure,” he said. “I intend to be the most powerful man in the world. It’s just possible you could have a part in that.”
This kid wasn’t just a sociopath, he had a god complex, too. I found myself wondering if maybe I might find someway to help him, despite everything. Well, if I was going to hang around for a year, I might as well give it a try.

“We’ll see,” I said.

“I don’t expect you to believe me now,” he said. “But wait a year and then make up your mind. In the meantime, we shall have to keep up the valet pretense, if only to placate my father. So, if you could kindly get my tux, the hour is getting late.”

He began to undress, and not knowing what else to do, I went into his closet to get his tux. When I returned, I found him shirtless in front of the mirror, flexing his non-existent muscles.

“I think I should be bigger, don’t you?” he said without turning around. “Being physically intimidating would be a definite asset, plus muscles are damn hot.”

How did I respond to this? I decided to put away the valet and my personal feelings and let the psychologist out. “You can certainly hire a trainer and start working out,” I said. “In fact, I think you should. But to imagine you’ll ever be physically intimidating is just unrealistic. We all have to live with the genetic package God gave us, Evan. Pretending anything else is just fooling ourselves.”

He turned around and looked up at me with a slight frown on his face. “First of all, don’t call me Evan. I don’t mind personally, but if you get used to it, you might slip up and call me Evan in front of someone else and that would just give the whole thing away. So, it should be Young Master Phips at all times. Is that understood?”

I nodded. “Sure.”

“Secondly, there have been a lot of scientific advances since God’s time, and you would be surprised how many of his edicts now have loopholes. But I forgive your ignorance. Tomorrow, we will visit Gencorp and begin your education. I will become huge, possibly the largest, strongest man the world has ever seen. It’s only fitting a brain like mine has a body to match. And you will be witness to my transcendence.”

His words shocked me more than I can say. I finished helping him into his tux and saw him out the door to the party without saying another word. It was clear to me that Evan Phips was one very sick, delusional teenager. But more than that, he had a genius IQ along with money and power and that made him dangerous as well. It was then I realized my calling. I would save the world from him and save him from himself. I didn’t know how I was going to do it, but somehow I had to.

Link to Part 2

[GoldfishBW]

looks like another winner! thanks!

[rextorres]

Interesting... Strange... Unusual... Scary...

[wolfotehmoon]

Nice, very nice. I'm seeing some hints of DeathNote-style attempts at one-upping eachother, though that could be undermined by Justin's not being as smart as he thinks he is (which I noticed you wove pretty subtlely but effectively into his narrative). I'm personally rooting for the former; 30 Xanatos Pileups are always more interesting than one character constantly dominating another. :3

[philat99]

to say the least!!! Looking forward to more.
Mike

[Ender]

An interesting setup as are most of your stories. In a way this seems to be revisiting the premise of "Caf? Blue." I think that acerbic wit and self inflating personality, that you mentioned you had intended for Colin in "Caf? Blue" will play much better with Evan in the venue that you seem to be setting up here. You have clearly defined Evan as not have any of the warm fuzzy cuddly characteristics that Colin had inherited from "Second Puberty," when he transitioned to be main character in "Caf? Blue."

While I can agree that Evan appears to have a touch of the megalomania the drives Light/Kira in DeathNote, I don't think that is a viable direction for the story. Light/Kira's power arises from the anonymity which the DeathNote offers. Being augmented to become the biggest and strongest person in the world is not something you can maintain as a secret if you intend to use it.

Ender

[wolfotehmoon]

@Ender,
If you were referring to my comment, I was talking more about the Kira/L rivalry and their constant attempts to outmaneuver and outsmart each other possibly being parallel to Justin and Evan's relationship. I think that would be interesting, especially considering some of the most tense moments in that series happened when the two were in the same room together. There are several ways that sort of relationship could work here, but we'll just have to see. :P

[arpeejay]

How I love delusional teenagers! Long may they wave! :-)

xoxo

Richard

[Giga_Huge5000]

Wow, this is looking to be a very promising story! I shall follow it with great anticipation! Your works don't disappoint Jaypat.

[ldaniel13]

Wow! I'm looking forward to this series. This chapter shows great potential.

[skumbum]

Looking forward to more!

[msclundylvr]

Great start! Can't wait to see where this goes!

[Adam]

Bravo! Obviously the first chapter is all set-up, but it's very well done set-up. This is the most intriguing new story I've seen on this site in quite some time. I greatly look forward to future chapters.

[boychick2003]

GREAT story- more please!!!

[tojfs7931]

This is starting out to be very interesting... cant wait to see what ... develops.

[redkage]

Looks like you decided to go with this story line after all, and it's already an instant hit! Good job Mr. Pat, keep the momentum moving!

[dolphinbad]

The story seems promising! The plot is very interesting, different, well written ... amazing! I'll follow it!

[evanw]

Strange but true: My name is Evan, and I graduated at 15.

Secondly, great story so far; I'm sure it'll be a great read when you're finished!

Finally, I'm reminded a little bit of Artemis Fowl...

[muscl4life]

Nerds growing into muscle men is hot.

EVIL nerds growing into powerful muscle men is hotter (for some, sometimes).

Two brilliant minds dueling as one grows even bigger and more powerful while the other tries to preserve any humanity that kid might still have after years of solitude, incomprehension and disrespect is just FANTASTIC!

Great setting, Jaypat. I hope you have a great time taking us along (yet another) marvelous story.

Congratulation

[bribear1042]

I appreciate the plot that is developing. I foresee a grueling battle of one up manship going on here. I agree, nerds getting huge is hot. There is NOTHING sexier than a man with muscles AND a brain.

I also want to compliment Jaypat on his use of language and vocabulary. When creating a story with child geniuses, one would have to put into context their everyday language use would not be typical. There are some words in this story that one would not see or hear everyday. I think it adds to the timbre of the story. I pride myself in my vocabulary and always enjoy when someone else doesn't try and "dumb down" literature to the usual 3rd grade reading level.

Interesting enough, I was also in the G&T (Gifted & Talented) track in elementary and high school. I can somewhat relate to these characters with their feelings of isolation and trying to fit in. However, I was not so intelligent to graduate any earlier than I was supposed to.

I am eagerly waiting to see how this pans out. Thanks for a GREAT beginning Jaypat.

-Bribear

[Otaru_grower]

Well, this is extremely promising...

[gideon]

A 15 year old genius who plans to match his vastly superior intellect with some mighty muscles? What a terrific premise for a story and beautifully written. Well done, JP. It's evident from the comments that you've got lots of us hooked and eager for more.

[elro]

Unquestionably, it's very well written, but that's a Jaypat trademark !

Not my kind of story, though... I think the manipulative 15 year-old bastard entirely deserves his puny body and tiny dick. Maybe if he actually had to work to get some muscles, it'd do him good.

Also, the sociopath dad deserves his sociopath son.

But it's not about wish fullfillment... or at least, not MY wishes.

Best of luck with the story !

[Muscle_Knight]

Originally Posted by Otaru_grower

Well, this is extremely promising...

I totally agree!!

[Ender]

Originally Posted by wolfotehmoon

@Ender,
If you were referring to my comment, I was talking more about the Kira/L rivalry and their constant attempts to outmaneuver and outsmart each other possibly being parallel to Justin and Evan's relationship. I think that would be interesting, especially considering some of the most tense moments in that series happened when the two were in the same room together. There are several ways that sort of relationship could work here, but we'll just have to see. :P

I was thinking in terms of Evan's intendtion to "rule the world" and the relationship between Light/Kira and L and later N hadn't occurred to me, but you're right the dynamic a megalomaniac with a nemesis trying to prevent him from doing hurt to the world does seem valid here...

[GodlyFratboy]

Great job dude... uggh i hate god complexes but jesus this is gonna be good... being both smart and having money can have its advantages but having someone close to the person makes it a bit easier to stop them. amazing start... plus the light/kira reference from Death Note is so awesome. sorry just my thoughts :P

[Jaypat]

Originally Posted by GoldfishBW

looks like another winner! thanks!

No, thank you.

Originally Posted by rextorres

Interesting... Strange... Unusual... Scary...

I can but try.

Originally Posted by wolfotehmoon

Nice, very nice. I'm seeing some hints of DeathNote-style attempts at one-upping eachother, though that could be undermined by Justin's not being as smart as he thinks he is (which I noticed you wove pretty subtlely but effectively into his narrative). I'm personally rooting for the former; 30 Xanatos Pileups are always more interesting than one character constantly dominating another. :3

I've never seen DeathNote, but I'm netflixing it.

Originally Posted by philat99

to say the least!!! Looking forward to more.
Mike

Originally Posted by Ender

An interesting setup as are most of your stories. In a way this seems to be revisiting the premise of "Caf? Blue." I think that acerbic wit and self inflating personality, that you mentioned you had intended for Colin in "Caf? Blue" will play much better with Evan in the venue that you seem to be setting up here. You have clearly defined Evan as not have any of the warm fuzzy cuddly characteristics that Colin had inherited from "Second Puberty," when he transitioned to be main character in "Caf? Blue."


Ender

Colin is pretty much the way I envisioned him in the first two chapters of Caf? Blues. After he meets Sky, he kind of looses his edge, turns to mush and the story falls apart -- completely the fault of the writer. Colin has a sharp, fatalistic, almost self depreciating wit, that would be completely alien to Evan. I don't think they're alike at all.

Originally Posted by arpeejay

How I love delusional teenagers! Long may they wave! :-)

xoxo

Richard

Yeah, I get a lot of mileage out of delusional teens, don't I?

Originally Posted by Giga_Huge5000

Wow, this is looking to be a very promising story! I shall follow it with great anticipation! Your works don't disappoint Jaypat.

Thank you very much!

Originally Posted by ldaniel13

Wow! I'm looking forward to this series. This chapter shows great potential.

There's nothing more frightening to a writer than a story's potential.

Originally Posted by skumbum

Looking forward to more!

Thank you. I will provide it.

Originally Posted by msclundylvr

Great start! Can't wait to see where this goes!

(neither can I)

Originally Posted by Adam

Bravo! Obviously the first chapter is all set-up, but it's very well done set-up. This is the most intriguing new story I've seen on this site in quite some time. I greatly look forward to future chapters.

Thank you. I hope I won't keep you waiting too long.

Originally Posted by boychick2003

GREAT story- more please!!!

Thanks. More you shall have.

Originally Posted by tojfs7931

This is starting out to be very interesting... cant wait to see what ... develops.

I love a good double meaning.

Originally Posted by dolphinbad

The story seems promising! The plot is very interesting, different, well written ... amazing! I'll follow it!

I can't ask for more than that.

Originally Posted by evanw

Strange but true: My name is Evan, and I graduated at 15.

Secondly, great story so far; I'm sure it'll be a great read when you're finished!

Finally, I'm reminded a little bit of Artemis Fowl...

Yikes! I guess this would be a good time to do the whole lawyer thing about any resemblance to persons living or dead being a total coincidence--or words to that effect. (You're not an evil, power seeking teen, are you? 'casue that would just be waaaaay too big a coincidence. )

And now that you mention it, I do see the resemblance to Artimis Fowl. But personally, I think Evan would eat Artimis for breakfast.

Originally Posted by muscl4life

Nerds growing into muscle men is hot.

EVIL nerds growing into powerful muscle men is hotter (for some, sometimes).

Two brilliant minds dueling as one grows even bigger and more powerful while the other tries to preserve any humanity that kid might still have after years of solitude, incomprehension and disrespect is just FANTASTIC!

Great setting, Jaypat. I hope you have a great time taking us along (yet another) marvelous story.

Congratulation

Wow, M4L. I think you just pretty much nailed the whole story. I almost feel I don't have to write it now.

Originally Posted by bribear1042

I appreciate the plot that is developing. I foresee a grueling battle of one up manship going on here. I agree, nerds getting huge is hot. There is NOTHING sexier than a man with muscles AND a brain.

I also want to compliment Jaypat on his use of language and vocabulary. When creating a story with child geniuses, one would have to put into context their everyday language use would not be typical. There are some words in this story that one would not see or hear everyday. I think it adds to the timbre of the story. I pride myself in my vocabulary and always enjoy when someone else doesn't try and "dumb down" literature to the usual 3rd grade reading level.

Interesting enough, I was also in the G&T (Gifted & Talented) track in elementary and high school. I can somewhat relate to these characters with their feelings of isolation and trying to fit in. However, I was not so intelligent to graduate any earlier than I was supposed to.

I am eagerly waiting to see how this pans out. Thanks for a GREAT beginning Jaypat.

-Bribear

Thanks for your notes on the vocabulary. I'm going to try and slip in my favorite word (yes, I have a favorite word) which I very rarely get to use.

Originally Posted by gideon

A 15 year old genius who plans to match his vastly superior intellect with some mighty muscles? What a terrific premise for a story and beautifully written. Well done, JP. It's evident from the comments that you've got lots of us hooked and eager for more.

Thanks. I hope I don't disappoint.

Originally Posted by elro

Unquestionably, it's very well written, but that's a Jaypat trademark !

Not my kind of story, though... I think the manipulative 15 year-old bastard entirely deserves his puny body and tiny dick. Maybe if he actually had to work to get some muscles, it'd do him good.

Also, the sociopath dad deserves his sociopath son.

But it's not about wish fullfillment... or at least, not MY wishes.

Best of luck with the story !

So, may antagonist upset you? I must be doing someting right.

Originally Posted by Otaru_grower

Well, this is extremely promising...

God, that's almost as bad as potential...

Originally Posted by GodlyFratboy

Great job dude... uggh i hate god complexes but jesus this is gonna be good... being both smart and having money can have its advantages but having someone close to the person makes it a bit easier to stop them. amazing start... plus the light/kira reference from Death Note is so awesome. sorry just my thoughts :P

Thanks. Yet another DeathNote reference. I'm really going to have to see this.

[Ender]

Originally Posted by Jaypat

Colin is pretty much the way I envisioned him in the first two chapters of Caf? Blues. After he meets Sky, he kind of looses his edge, turns to mush and the story falls apart -- completely the fault of the writer. Colin has a sharp, fatalistic, almost self depreciating wit, that would be completely alien to Evan. I don't think they're alike at all.

That was my point Colin was a nice decent guy like the "the kid with no name" easy to like and cheer for... that is why I couldn't understand some of your posts after you pulled Caf? Blue down that you wanted Colin the be a "wheeler dealer", "anything you want I can get" type... Traits that wouldn't play the the warm and cuddly Colin you had thus far created. There were some problems in the last couple but the Colin character did seem to be a major cause.

Evan so far is arrogant, self inflating, manipulative creep that should never be allowed anywhere near any position of power because he will delight in abusing it. I personally want to see him get what he wants... but not the way he wants it to be... Maybe the as the untimate Pleasure Boy or an immoble mass of muscle with no way to communicate with the world...

Be careful what you wish for stories are one of my favorite ways to see unlikable characters get their comeuppances.

Ender

[chocomus]

wow, this promise a lot. i'm eager to see more

[Adam]

A new chapter approaching soon, I hope? I found the Evan's megalomania quite intriguing and I would like to see more.

[Jaypat]

Preview of Chapter 2:

Evan slept in the morning after his party, but I had no such luxury. Even though I was obligated to wait up until after he had retired for the evening, so I could help him get ready for bed, I was also required to be up with the sun in case he decided to rise early. He didn?t. And believe me I understood why. Obviously the drinking age wasn?t strictly enforced around here. When he had stumbled back to his room he could barely stand. Then I spent nearly an hour getting him washed and into his monogrammed silk pajamas. He was propositioning me constantly in a slurred voice, and I spent half my time just holding him off me.

?You won?t be able to resist me when I?m massive,? he slured, while he pawed at me and squeezed me at every opportunity. ?But then I don?t expect you?ll want to.?

By the time he finally passed out between the sheets I was dog tired. I just made it into my bed before I passed out as well. Then it seemed like only seconds before the alarm rang, signaling me it was time to get up. I stumbled out of bed, showered, got dressed and made my way down to the kitchen for breakfast. Anton was already there sipping coffee and reading the paper.

?So, how was your first day?? he asked.

?It?s one I?m not likely to forget,? I said, thinking that this was as much as I could safely say.

?Young Master Phips is quite the rapscallion, isn?t he??

?That?s one way of putting it. Do they always let him drink like that??

?I?m sure I don?t know what you mean.?

?Last night when he got back to his room, he was completely snookered.?

?That?s not possible.?

?I had to undress him and I assure you he was very, very drunk.?

?Mr. Conroy,? started Anton, in a tone that told me I was going to get another lecture. ?Last night?s party was attended almost exclusively by underage guests. There was no alcohol served. I, myself, saw Young Master Phips moments before he retired and I assure you he was completely sober.?

I rubbed my butt where he had pinched it repeatedly, and I thought for a second that Anton might be playing joke on me, but then I remembered that Anton had no sense of humor what-so-ever. ?He was sober??

?As a stone. I expect he was merely playing one of his pranks on you.?

?Why that little? rapscallion.? I couldn?t believe it. He?d done it to me again. That was twice in one day Young Master Phips had completely taken me in. He was toying with me, completely taking advantage of my good nature.

Anton began to jabber on about the weather and the chances the Red Socks would win the pennant this year, but I wasn?t listening. All I could think of was that smug, arrogant kid and where he?d put his hands last night. I wondered why the subterfuge? Why didn?t he just come right out and order me to have sex with him? He had enough black mail material to attempt it. But I knew the answer. I would have refused him. I would have decided to cut my losses and get out. And somehow that diminutive letch had figured that out.

[boychick2003]

please write more!!!

[Adam]

Thanks for the preview! I look forward to reading the whole thing. And though I may be in the minority on this, I'm rooting for Evan to "win" against the narrator, hopefully by rendering the later helpless with worshipful lust .

[Kymuscleboy]

Please sir, may we have some more!

This is such an interesting beginning and premise. I can't wait to read the full second chapter... and all that follow.

[Jaypat]

I'm just bumping this up to let everyone know that on Thursday, October 8th I will be posting Gifted Child Part 2. And then I'll post a new part every Thursday unitl the story is concluded. (Although I may take a break on the 29th for Halloween.)

So, I hope you enjoy it and if you need to refresh your memories, here's part 1.

See you Thursday!

JP

[arpeejay]

Yay!

xoxo

Richard

[The Pecman]

Terrific job, JP. I like the fact that all the loose ends were taken care of, and it all actually made sense. This could definitely use a sequel!