THE NARCISSIST

“It’s been said that money is the root of all evil. Well, if that’s the case, call me the Devil!” The crowd erupted with applause. “Most of you know me, and if you don’t, well, you should. My name is Eric Stetson, and I am the founder and President of Stetson Real Estate.” Eric stood in righteous superiority as he spoke.

“You may know it as one of the largest real estate investment firms in the United States. Our company has over ninety-seven billion in assets, including more than five hundred properties, with more than one hundred million square feet of commercial, land and property worldwide. And the future has NEVER looked brighter!” Eric exclaimed.

Eric’s bright blue eyes reflected the hot light’s glare. He stared out across the crowd of minions. Oh, how they admired him. Standing at 6’2”, his dark hair lay atop his head in utter flawlessness, and his perfectly straight white smile was in full force. He hadn’t even had braces; it was all-natural. Not fair at all to the mere mortals hanging on his every word. 

He had it all. He had a naturally fit body, more money in his bank account than he could try to spend in his lifetime, and admirers across the globe. He was the kind of man that made you wonder exactly when he had made a deal with the Devil. No one is that good-looking, rich, and charismatic without Satan having something to do with it. This was the kind of guy Eric Stetson was, and everyone wanted to be him.

Eric paced the stage while speaking into the microphone attached to an earpiece. As he spoke, he needed his hands free to move them for dramatic effect. He wasn’t an inspirational speaker, although he should be. He was the head of one of the largest real estate corporations in the US, and he owned every aspect of it proudly. The crowd applauded and cheered. 
He was a boaster, an egomaniac, and charming as hell. Humility was never Eric’s strong suit, but that is what made Eric, Eric. He was the type of guy most people loved to hate. He adored that about himself. He wouldn’t have it any other way. He worked hard and played hard. He burnt many a bridge along his way to success, and he made no apologies to his victims. In his opinion, shedding a tear was a waste of human fluids. 

He had little time for the weak and was challenged by the strong. He had never seen anyone as competitive as he was. He sometimes found this disappointing. He was always the most intelligent person in the room and had yet to have anyone prove him wrong. Oh, how he would love to meet his equal one day, but in the meantime, he basked in his glory.
As Eric proceeded to lure the crowd of employees, investors, moguls, and everyday admirers, he scoured the room yet did not seek out individual faces. Individual faces meant nothing to him. The audience held onto his every word. This environment was like a drug to him. It incited his need to gain more in life, power, money, and hangers-on. He loved the hangers-on. He loved their sickening admiration. And those hangers-on, well, they loved being in his presence. One, in particular, his brother Jared, was his favorite.

For all of Eric’s evils, there appeared to be some good qualities. He was a master manipulator; therefore, almost everyone who came across him fell into his charms. He drew people in, giving them just enough to keep them around to tolerate his underlying abuses. Although he genuinely didn’t care too much about the person, he projected that he did, to a point. It was an I care, but not that much approach to people. 

He knew how much empathy and care he needed to fake. He knew when to seem genuine, attentive, and interested, but in the end, most of it was a facade. He took to social cues when needed, but he was rarely sincere. He could charm even his most staunch opponents. He was the epitome of a psychopath, a narcissist, and an arrogant son of a bitch.

Jared knew this about his brother. He always had, and yet he idolized him. Since he was a child, Jared had followed his older brother around like a little lost puppy dog. He had watched Eric receive and achieve everything he wanted in life. He was the golden boy. There wasn’t anything that Eric couldn’t do. He was handsome, intelligent, outgoing, mysterious, and determined. Jared was nothing like his brother, he had always known this, and Eric was there to remind him if he were ever to forget.

Jared had always been insecure, average, and nothing notable. He had run-of-the-mill looks, could not sell a heater to an Eskimo, and hated the spotlight. Jared was innately intelligent, though. He excelled in math and sciences in high school and college. If one thing did come easy to Jared, it was his intellect. He had a way of computing things in his head that most people had to work at and rarely achieve. 

For Jared, solutions, problem-solving, looking at a situation, having intuitive recognition, and creating favorable outcomes were his forte. He tested at an IQ of 159. He was brilliant, but he kept it to himself. 

His social awkwardness and insecurities far outshined his intelligence in the world around him. Jared stood at 5’9”, his hair had just begun to recede a bit, and he did not inherit Eric’s perfect smile. Jared wasn’t bad-looking but blended into the walls compared to his brother. Jared was apprehensive and tended to be a worrier. He was a worrier about all needless things. His mind never stopped. 

Unlike Eric, though, Jared was profound. He had a conscience, a soul, a need to be liked and loved; he had a desire to make people happy. He internalized everything. He rarely showed anger or frustration. He had learned a long time ago to keep everything inside. These qualities were what made Jared very different from Eric and what made Eric dismiss Jared often.
Jared had finally gotten accustomed to, but not comfortable with, the large groups that engulfed Eric continuously. He had learned to deal with the fast-paced life of Eric and all that it entailed. He had to. He was one of Eric’s assistants, and he loved his job. He loved his brother for giving him this job and putting up with his mediocre performance. 

He knew Eric tolerated him only because he was his younger brother. It didn’t matter to Jared in the least. He couldn’t fault Eric for anything. He wouldn’t be where he is today without Eric. Most people saw the brother’s relationship for what it was, abuse of one brother to another. It was pathetic, but Jared remained grateful. He understood Eric and why he did the things he did. 

Jared was an enabler of his brother’s abuses, but like Eric needing the spotlight and accolades, Jared needed Eric. He was Jared’s drug of choice. Eric was everything that he desired to be but could never obtain. He loved his brother and accepted that the love his brother had for him was limited. Even that bit of love gave Jared a sense of belonging, of being needed, and of a purposeful life.

Jared dressed in his finest suit, picked out by Eric’s stylist turned assistant, Rachael. He stood backstage with his arms folded, watching his brother create the magic that only Eric could create. He admired the control and command he had over the entire audience. Eric had mastered the English language, and whenever Eric spoke on stage, it was like watching a glorious operatic performance. As Jared watched his brother for the thousandth time, he noticed something he hadn’t realized before. Without warning, his internal voice kicked in.

The temperature on stage from the lights must be well over a hundred degrees and not one bead of sweat. Who doesn’t sweat onstage? Oh, yeah, Eric, that’s who! Jared thought to himself. For a second, this voice came from a place of envy. It had spoken to him without warning or permission. Stop it! Jared demanded the voice in his head. He always fought off resentment when it came to his brother. If he didn’t, his life would be agony. 

So instead, he gave the comments in his mind a quick chuckle. Of course, Eric doesn’t sweat during these events. That would make him human. Jared smirked and resumed his admiration for his brother while admonishing the envious voice that sometimes so betrayed him. One bad thought could root a lifetime of resentment, and Jared wasn’t willing to go there with his brother, even in the silence of his mind. He needed Eric far too much.

Although mandatory, Eric thanked the audience for their attendance and encouraged everyone to reach their highest potential at Stetson Real Estate. He held up a glass of champagne, followed by more applause and a few indiscriminate whistles.

He removed his earpiece and made his way across the stage to an entourage of personal assistants, a few “Yes” men, and of course, Jared. The music began to play as Eric reached his brother, who handed him a bottle of Evian water, the cap removed, of course. Eric downed the whole bottle and gave it to Jared as he walked backstage towards one of the green rooms where he could have a drink and a quick cigar before mingling with the commoners. 

Eric was always a man on a mission, a very dismissive man on a mission. Jared habitually tried to match step for step to keep up with his brother but could rarely match Eric’s stride. Jared eternally seemed a few steps behind.
While Jared raced to keep up, Tom, the CFO, praised Eric for a well-done job. Michael, another assistant, placed a folder with papers in front of him to sign as they walked. Rachael stopped Eric to straighten his tie and fix his hair. Rachael was the only person that Eric let into his bubble publicly. 

She had been his stylist for years. She had upgraded to personal assistant, although she continued to style him. That was her passion. Keeping the man looking good, plus she had an unlimited spending account, which was something she wasn’t willing to give up. Hermes was a benefit of her job, along with health insurance and a company car. She was not doing badly for a girl with a degree in fashion.

Rachael was gorgeous, as were most people Eric employed in his close-knit circle. He wanted to surround himself with beautiful people. Had Jared not been his brother, he would never have made the cut. Rachael was elegant yet a lot of fun. Her appearance was immaculate, whether dressed for an awards dinner like tonight or in shorts and a tank top to go for a hike. She had no flaws. 

Unlike most people Eric surrounded himself with, Rachael was not opposed to keeping him on his toes and calling him on his bullshit if she chose to pick a battle with him. She was clever that way. She knew which battles to pick with Eric and which to deflect. Even when calling him out, she remained respectful and loving. Maybe that’s why Eric appreciated her. Perhaps in her, he had found his equal in a far more loving person. 

Whatever the dynamics of their relationship, they worked well together. Rachael was probably the closest thing to a healthy relationship Eric had ever had. Plus, she had a fantastic smile and laugh that made everyone’s heart melt. To Jared, she was perfect. To Eric, she was adequate.

Eric sat on the plush leather couch in the green room as he reached for the remote. Jared, Rachael, Tom, and Michael joined him. This was his quiet time. His cigar smoking, vodka drinking, decompressing time. He needed these moments, or he would snap. 

Eric tolerated the human species. He was superior to other humans and could barely stand most of them. He didn’t mind making human connections as long as they were on his terms. Detached would be a mild term to use when describing Eric.
Tom sat next to Eric while he changed the channel to the local news. The news anchor reported a car rollover on I-25, a dog found two years after it went missing and a female body found in Parker. Eric leaned back while Tom tested the waters.
“We need to talk about the Hamilton property purchase.”

Eric remained silent with absolutely no facial expressions. Jared quickly reached for the vodka to make Eric a drink. All Jared could think was, Don’t do it, Tom!

Tom knew this wasn’t a subject that Eric wanted to talk about even though Tom needed him to.
“Eric, you can’t keep ignoring me forever. You sign the papers soon, and I don’t think you-”

Eric slammed his fist on the end table and walked away from Tom towards the wet bar. Jared scrambled to make the vodka tonic to put into Eric’s hand.

“I know what you think, Tom! We’ve been over this a million times! It’s my company! It’s my decision!” Eric grabbed the drink from Jared’s shaking hand.

Rachael sat on one of the bar stools awaiting the battle she would not have chosen to pick.
“Eric, we have investors. We have a Board of Directors, all of which question this venture. Profits are down. The company isn’t doing as well as it had been, and you know this. “

“Oh my God, Tom! If I’d made most of my decisions based on caution, there wouldn’t be a business. I know what I’m doing!” Eric gulped the liquor and slammed the glass down on the bar. “Who the hell are you to question me? Know your place, Tom! Do what I tell you to do and nothing else!”

Tom looked Eric straight in the eyes. Tom, usually a passive and agreeable man, was not so agreeable anymore.
“You understand the risks? Do you know that if this venture isn’t 100% profitable our company, YOUR company is in jeopardy? We’re not talking about small change, Eric. You’re putting all of us at risk. I know my place, Eric. And it’s my job to tell you when you’re threatening this company financially.”

Eric took another large swig of his drink and glared at Tom. “Are you done, Tom?” As he scowled at Tom, he took another mouthful of his Vodka. “I still control the majority of stock in this company. Who has a greater chance of suffering the consequences than me?”

Tom just stared at Eric, defeated. They had been over this so many times. He knew that he wasn’t going to get through to Eric. And with the death wish of a man about to jump off the Empire State Building, Tom took a deep breath and proceeded toward the door.

“You’ve never suffered a consequence a day in your life, Eric!” Tom walked out of the room and slammed the door as Eric’s glass, half-filled with vodka, smashed against the door frame.

 
“Bastard! He doesn’t know what he’s talking about! What the hell have I been doing all these years? How did I build an empire if I DIDN’T KNOW WHAT THE HELL I WAS DOING?!”

Jared quickly scrambled to make and give Eric a new vodka tonic. At the same time, Rachael silently exited the room with as much dignity as anyone could in that situation, followed by Michael. Both had remained silent and off the radar. Eric shot back the vodka, straightened his suit and tie, and walked out the door. He hadn’t even gotten the chance to light a cigar!
Jared took a few shots straight from the vodka bottle and followed behind. It was going to be a long night.