Pussyboy

Schadenfreude

I rode the bus home. Typical day, really. After getting off the bus, I walked to my apartment complex.

The neighborhood was okay, if you discounted the ghetto-esque community here - it was. The tall tower blocks were decaying, to say. The 1950s brandished white pastel fixture façade was now blurring to noir. The rain really took a toll on those. There were drip-like features that were black and looked, well, cracked. The inner city smog might have uglify it along the years. Sad, really.

This is the neighborhood that I wouldn't really wanna raise my son in.

That sweet boy never deserved to have a parent as terrible as me. He deserved the kind like Angelina and Brad are: cool and well-off. They could make their kids the best and me, I was just trying to get by the days so I can feed him 3 times a day and have something inside the rotting fridge to munch at any time.

I passed by the neighbor who sneers at me when she sees me. Lovely old geezer, really, until she found out my line of work. Whoring around was a knockout punch for her to sneer at me and my child every so often, like she was any better. Stupid bible freaks.

The neighbor next to her is much more pleasant. She didn't really know who I was. She just kinda nods at me when I pass by. Well, whatever.

The delicatessen was next to her. Urban decay around, Mr. Frezione kept the sign Delicatessen nice and neat - if only 20% dirt left meant that. The store was below 4 storeys of old brick walled apartments. Frezione himself lived somewhere in the third or fourth floors. The front of the store was glass windows with a clear view to the inside. There were fading letterings in the biggest window that said Frezione's in blue green (more to the green part) thick cursive italic letters. The inside was clean. Pink and white checker tile floors and light cyan walls over a whitewashed wooden half of the wall. It looked more like an ice cream parlor than a meat shop. His counter was on the right side. It displayed the meat perfectly if not grotesque. The glass casing of the selection was illuminated by a light blue lighting. At the farthest right at the back was his station. Then, there was a door.

Anyway, the next building was demolished. Gentrification took that one. I don't know what's going to replace that but I think a new and more modern apartment. I'm sad and happy at that. Sad, maybe because I'm used to these shit holes standing tall, proud and aging. Happy, well, maybe because it's a new thing here. Maybe deep down this gloomy neighborhood would see a ray of light here but still, I am unsure of the effects of that.

Finally, I came face to face to my apartment. The old Victorian style of architecture was admirable but it was like the neighborhood itself - decaying. The aging façade was sad. Sometime ago, this could have been a great thing to see here but not anymore.

I stepped inside and felt the thick and dusty air. Thank god, I didn't have asthma no more. I went up the 6 flights of stairs up and went to my or our apartment, 4C.

I opened the door and went in. Discarded my scarf and jacket and hung them in the closet beside the door. I went in to the kitchen but something was strange. It looked like my son brought another person home.

The voices echoed softly through the apartment. I walked straight to the kitchen and saw my child talking to him.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you, Niall."

"No, you want something; that is why you're here."

"Can't I just visit my beautiful boys?"

"Oh, shut up!"

The angst rushes through my veins. God, who does this man think he is! Then, I looked at my son now. He was wide-eyed at me fuming.

"Why'd you let him in?"

Silence. Face down. Good child but wrong time to be this. I sighed. Maybe he was overwhelmed because I rarely got mad.

"Niall, it's my fault. Don't be angry at the boy. He didn't do nothin' here."

"Damn right he didn't," I stated towards him. I looked at my son and softened up my expression. "Honey, please go to your room."

He skidded off and I went back to 31 year old Zayn Malik. I faced him, hands crossed in front of my chest and a sour expression on my face. Yeah, I was pissed.

"I can explain."

"You've got one minute."

He went off. He told that he needed cash and a place to stay. He told me that he was in debt and his house was foreclosed by the bank for a large amount of cash he loaned and didn't get to pay back. He decided that since he was basically shit now that he should just crash here and maybe spend time with his son and help me take care since he wasn't here for like the last 8 years of his son's life.

"And that's it really. Bank closed my home and took it. No job. Wasted most of my savings on gambling and just down low right now. I just, Niall, the both of you are what is stable in my life ever. I mean, you know me-"

"Not really, no."

"-and I had shit parents and well, that's why I'm shit too."

He bent his head down and looked really shit. I thought about it as I looked at him. He wasn't the best father before and I'm afraid he still isn't. I had to make a decision.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

"Fine, but you gotta find a job by the end of the month or this deal of you stayin' here is capische."

He nodded. And what surprised me is that he hugged me tight.

When he let go of me, he looked at me and said, "thanks, Niall. I swear that I will find a job by the end of the month and provide for both of you and take care of Jackie."

He looked so sincere but I couldn't just let it slide like that so I just nodded and went to prepare dinner for the both of them.

I know that he lies when he promises something because he already went out of this family many times even before Jackie was a fetus. He'd quit, then so why start now? I mean don't grown ups never change.

But hearing his story I feel kinda glad he was shot now. He was starting to feel the shit he did when he was gone years ago til this afternoon. And if he ups and quits again, maybe this tile I can shit the money out of him for child support. Maybe but with now him in the dumpster, I think I don't have to feel that bad no more.

Yeah baby!