"Yo M. Morrel," the young sailor said, literally crying and grabbing the boss man's hand, "M. Morrel, I'm thanking you for my dad and Mercédès, this is sending me fr."
"No cap, Edmond. The universe stays looking out for the real ones. Go touch grass with your pops, check on Mercédès, then slide back to me."
"Want me to uber you to shore or nah?"
"I'm good, king. Gonna stay here and check these numbers with Danglars. Has he been giving main character energy this whole trip?"
"Well that's lowkey complicated, sir. You asking if he's my bestie? Hell no, bro's been salty ever since I suggested we beef it out for ten minutes on Monte Cristo island after our little disagreement. That was kinda cringe of me to suggest and he was based for saying no, anyway. But if you're asking if he's been doing his job? Yeah, he's not completely mid, dude's been handling business and you'll probably think he's been serving."
"But real talk, Dantès, if you were captain of the Pharaon, would you want Danglars to stay in your crew?"
"Captain or first mate, M. Morrel, I'm always gonna respect whoever you think is the GOAT."
"That's what I'm talking about! You're absolutely goated, Dantès! I won't keep you, I can see you're literally vibrating to bounce."
"So I can dip?"
"Bro, GO."
"Can I yeet myself outta here in your boat?"
"Say less."
"Aight M. Morrel, I'm ghosting, thanks for everything, you absolute legend!"
"Hope to see you soon, king. Good luck out there."
The young sailor absolutely sent it into the boat and plopped down, telling the rowers to drop him off at La Canebière. The two guys started rowing, and the little boat was zooming through all the ships clogging up the narrow path between the harbor and Quai d'Orléans. Major traffic fr.
The ship owner was smiling and watching him like a proud dad until he saw Edmond hop out and disappear into the crowd that's always swarming La Canebière from 5am to 9pm. This street hits different. The locals are so obsessed they'll deadass say with complete seriousness and that accent that makes everything sound fire: "If Paris had La Canebière, Paris would be Marseilles' little brother."
When the owner turned around, Danglars was lurking there, pretending to wait for orders but actually side-eyeing the young sailor. But the vibes these two were giving while watching Edmond were completely different energy, and not in a good way.
We're gonna leave Danglars there being toxic af, literally possessed by pure hatred and trying to slide into the shipowner's DMs with some sus allegations about his homie, and follow Dantès instead. My guy zoomed through La Canebière, hit up Rue de Noailles, and walked into this tiny house on the left side of Allées de Meillan. Bro was speedrunning four flights of the darkest stairs ever, gripping the railing with one hand while the other was trying to stop his heart from absolutely going brr, and then he froze outside a door that was slightly open where he could peep the whole tiny room.
This room was where Dantès' dad was chilling. The old man hadn't gotten the notification that the Pharaon had dropped yet, so he was standing on a chair with his shaky hands trying to train some nasturtiums and clematis that were climbing all over his window trellis, just living his best plant parent life. Then out of nowhere, he felt someone's arms around him and heard a familiar voice go, "Father, dear father!"
The old man literally jumped and spun around, saw his son, and immediately fell into his arms looking pale as a ghost and shaking.
"Yo dad, what's wrong? You feeling sick?" the young guy asked, actually scared now.
"Nah, nah, my dear Edmond, my boy, my son! I just wasn't expecting you and the joy, the shock of seeing you so suddenly, damn, I feel like I'm about to straight up die."
"Chill, chill, dad! It's really me! They say good vibes never killed anyone, so I came without texting first. Come on, smile instead of staring at me like I'm a ghost. I'm back and we're about to be living our best life."
"Yeah, yeah, my boy, we will, we will," the old man said, "but how are we gonna be happy? You're never leaving me again, right? Spill the tea, what good shit happened to you?"
"God forgive me," said the young man, "for being happy about something that came from someone else's L, but heaven knows I didn't ask for this W, it just happened and I'm not gonna pretend to be pressed about it. Captain Leclere is dead, dad, and I'm probably gonna get his spot with M. Morrel backing me up. You understand what I'm saying, father? Imagine me as captain at twenty with a hundred louis salary and profit sharing! That's more than a broke sailor like me could ever have dreamed of!"
"Yeah, my boy," the old man said, "that's fire."
"Bet! So with my first paycheck, I'm getting you a little house with a garden where you can plant clematis, nasturtiums, and honeysuckle. But what's wrong, dad? You don't look good?"
"It's nothing, nothing, it'll pass," and as he said that, the old man's strength just noped out and he fell backwards.
"Yo, yo," said the young man, "a glass of wine will fix you right up, dad. Where you keep the wine at?"
"Nah, nah, thanks. Don't bother looking, I don't need it," said the old man.
"Yeah yeah, dad, just tell me where it is," and he started opening cupboards left and right.
"It's no use," said the old man, "there is no wine."
"What? No wine?" said Dantès, going pale and looking back and forth between his dad's hollow cheeks and the empty cupboards. "No wine? Dad... have you been broke?"
"I don't need anything now that you're here," said the old man.
"But," Dantès said, sweating bullets, "I gave you two hundred francs when I left three months ago."
"Yeah, yeah, Edmond, facts, but you forgot about that little debt to our neighbor Caderousse. He slid up to me saying if I didn't pay your debt, he was gonna get M. Morrel to pay it, and I was like nah, he might mess with your bag-"
"And?"
"So I paid him."
"But," Dantès said, losing it, "I only owed Caderousse a hundred and forty francs!"
"Yep," the old man said, looking mad awkward.
"And you paid him with the two hundred I left you?"
The old man just nodded.
"So you've been surviving off sixty francs for three whole months," Edmond said under his breath, absolutely devastated.
"You know I don't need much," said the old man.
"Jesus Christ," Edmond cried, dropping to his knees in front of his dad.
"Bro, what are you doing?"
"You just broke my heart into a million pieces."
"Don't even sweat it son, you're here now," said the old man, "and that's all that matters. We're good now."
"Yeah, I'm here," said the young man, "and I've got a fire future ahead and some cash. Here, dad, here!" he said, "take this, take it all and order some food right now." And he straight up dumped his entire bag on the table, like a dozen gold coins, five or six five-franc pieces, and a bunch of smaller change.
Old Dantès' face absolutely lit up.
"Whose money is this?" he asked.
"Mine, yours, ours! Take it, buy some groceries, be happy, tomorrow we'll have even more!"
"Easy there, easy," said the old man, smiling, "let me spend this carefully though, because if people see me buying too much stuff at once, they'll know I had to wait for you to come back before I could afford anything."
"Do whatever feels right, but first, please get yourself some help around here, dad. I'm not leaving you alone for this long ever again. I've got some bootleg coffee and absolutely premium tobacco hidden in the ship that you can have tomorrow… hold up, shh, someone's coming."
"That's Caderousse, he probably heard you were back and wants to congratulate you on your W."
"Ah, fake ass people who say one thing but think another," Edmond muttered. "Whatever though, he's our neighbor and he helped us out once, so he can come through."
Right as Edmond finished talking, Caderousse's dark, bearded head popped up at the door. Dude was like twenty-five or twenty-six and was holding some fabric, being a tailor and all, he was about to turn it into a coat lining.