Finding August | ✓ [SAMPLE]

Chapter 5

August sat in the filled-up tub, his eyes blood red from crying. His mother had called an hour or so ago and they'd gotten into a screaming match. Apparently, his parents wanted him to come back home.

Bullshit. August thought as he rubbed furiously at his eyes. They hadn't wanted him when he was still sharing an apartment with Vincent, but they wanted him now that he had acquired a considerable amount of success and would hopefully continue doing well. Coincidence? August begged to differ.

He sniffed, running his index finger under his nose. His head was aching from crying. Why couldn't he do anything without it hurting?

August clearly remembered how his mother had tossed his art materials into the nearest waste bin if she found them with him. He remembered their screaming matches which always ended up with his mother destroying his canvases and drawing books by tossing them into the living room fireplace. He used to go down and sit by the fireplace to watch them burn as his eyes blurred with tears. That was one of the reasons he didn't have much of an art record in regards to his earlier years.

He remembered the screaming battle he had with his parents when he didn't make it into the business school they'd wanted. They'd accused him of intentionally failing. August had denied it, even though it was true. All he wanted at that time was to attend the art school he'd applied to secretly.

His parents eventually caved in when no other business school gave him admission, but he didn't expect the price he had to pay to attend it.

His parents had harassed him through phone calls in class every few hours. His teacher had once pulled him aside to explain to him that he'd been contacted by his parents to drop him as a student. August had been pleased with the master, but after eight months his master had decided that enough was enough and it was the better decision to let him go. He'd called August to his office and explained to the young man why he had to leave before wishing him the best of luck.

August had returned home only to be pulled into constant arguments regarding his future and what he should be doing with his life. His parents had always sent servants to him, bombarding August with forms and applications for schools he had no idea about. He'd angered his parents by simply ignoring them, but he simply hadn't cared.

His father had called him to his office once. August had stood in front of his father's desk, glad that he hadn't inherited anything but a lighter skin tone and a slimmer nose from his father. He didn't want to be staring into a mirror when he was face to face with the person that tried so hard to control his life. Gladly the monster was red-haired and green-eyed—nothing like him. It wasn't as if looking like a carbon copy of his curly dark-haired mother made him any more comfortable. Both of them were equally horrible.

"If you don't abide by my rules under my own roof, I'll have to treat you like an outsider and cut you out of my will."

Sinking into the bathwater, August could still hear his father's words from that day in the office ring in his ears.

Fuck him. He thought as he shut his eyes. He still couldn't believe his father had tried to scare him with material wealth. He must have been surprised to wake up to the news that August had vanished the next day. He must have probably turned red with shock, considering the lengthy email August had addressed to him just before packing his bags and leaving must have fanned the flames.

The only thing that had kept August sane for the few weeks he'd wandered about, sleeping in motel after motel was the fact that he was finally free from his parents. None of them had even bothered to call him throughout the time period. Apart from the text August received from his mother simply stating that he was disowned, there had been no effort to communicate with him until now.