Alerrie: His Son

Fourteen.

Jordie's POV:

Darius Byron is a 34 year-old construction worker, originally from Bradford. His hobbies include getting tattoos, drinking and shouting. Unsurprisingly, he's a bit of a dick. The worst part is he's sort of my stepdad - it's complicated.

He and my mum met at a bar one summer evening when she was 22 and he was 25. She'd had a long day of work and he'd just finished a job at the building site where he was working. After plenty of drinks and hours of drunken banter, the intoxicated couple staggered back to my house and - you know. That was the start of their seven year relationship. After only a year and despite the fact that she already had two young children at home (myself and my brother Kymal) who she was struggling to care for as a single mother, my mum decided it would be a fantastic idea to have a child with this man and sure enough, nine months later my sister Amalia was born. Fast forward five years and they had a two year-old son and had just broken up. I would be lying if I said I couldn't've predicted it.

However, this break up wasn't exactly a clean break. Despite being officially split up, my mum and Darius were still seeing each other and he would spend most of his time at our house, much to the displeasure of myself and Ky, who quite frankly hated him. There was good reason for that too; despite technically being our stepfather for a number of years, I don't remember him ever cooking me or Ky a meal, playing football with us, helping us with homework or doing any fatherly things with us at all. Not to mention the fact that he would frequently come home drunk, shout at us for things that were usually his fault and put us in dangerous situations such as when mum made him pick us up from school and he left Ky in the car. It was the middle of summer and Ky was seven.

Darius would usually drop by the house on Tuesdays, Thursdays and sometimes Fridays, so I was a little surprised when he stormed into my room on a Wednesday afternoon.

"Who's Alex?" He yelled.

"What?"

"You heard me, who's Alex?"

I was confused. "My dad, why?"

"You don't have a dad."

"Literally everyone has a dad, it's simple biology, Darius."

"Watch your tone Jordan." He never called me Jordie. "I'm not playing around here. Tell me who the fuck Alex is!"

"Chill Darius, I'm not kidding, he's my dad."

"Why the fuck do you have a dad all of a sudden?"

"Mum found him."

"Where is your mum?"

"Where do you think? At work."

"When will she be back?"

"I don't know. Six?" Darius breathed out, frustrated.

"What do you want with my dad anyway?" I asked.

"He's been texting your mum, coming round to my kids' house and your mum hasn't told me anything about him or what's going on, so I want to know Jordan."

"There's really not much to it. He's my dad. That's it."

"Stop being an idiot Jordan. That's not it, is it? He's been texting your mum, meeting with her in secret and she's gone over to his fucking house!"

"Jesus Darius, there's nothing going on between them. Not that you should care anyway, you guys are split up remember?" He looked away. "Anyway, Alex is married, so there's literally nothing going on."

"Who is he? Has he been near my kids?"

"He's a footballer. And no, Amalia and Cameron don't even know he exists."