Chapter 4

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Saturday

TW: Brief mentions of crash

Patton drove down the road, humming happily along with the radio. Beside him in the passenger seat was his son, Virgil. He had his headphones on, drowning out the world with music.

The young father took a right turn, then suddenly, there was a loud sound of glass breaking, and terrified screams. The vehicle's tires squealed on the pavement and the car headed towards a tree—

Patton's eyes shot open, sitting up fast. He was soaked in sweat, panting heavily from fear.

"It was just a nightmare . . ." Patton mumbled, trying to take deep breaths. "It wasn't real . . ."

These nightmares were a frequent thing in Patton's life. Despite how often they occurred though, they still continued to terrify him every time.

Losing Virgil was his worst fear. It was also the main plot line in his nightmares. He already lost so much. He couldn't lose Virgil . . .

Patton slid out of bed, checking the clock on his nightstand. He sighed. It was just past 7 A.M., and he knew he wasn't going to get more sleep now.

He opened the bedroom door and padded downstairs, letting out a long yawn. The young father busied himself by making coffee in the kitchen.

Upstairs, Virgil was wide awake, nodding his head along with the rock music playing through his headphones. Like Patton's nightmares, staying up for hours on end was apart of the teen's daily life. Because of this, he had developed dark circles under his eyes, which he hid from Patton with makeup. But that wasn't the only thing he hid from his father . . .

*

A few blocks away, Logan Stone sat at his desk in his bedroom, typing quickly on his laptop. His door was open, and the house was quiet, almost empty. Until the teacher heard the sound of a door slam downstairs.

He sighed, saving his work before getting up and going to the living room. He crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes at the teen in front of him.

"Where have you been?" he asked sternly.

The teenager raked his hand through his hair, causing it to fan out over his face, "Out."

Logan scowled. "Remington Thomas Stone."

At this, Logan's son winced, "Please, not the full name, Dad."

Logan sighed, walking towards him and putting a hand on his shoulder. "Remy," he said. "I am just concerned for you. I am aware that you are now eighteen and you're legally an adult, but you've been doing this for a week now."

Remy shrugged his father's hand off his shoulder, and Logan felt something like a tiny stab to the heart. "Dad, I'm fine, really. I'm not doing anything illegal, I'm just hanging out with some friends. That's all."

Logan hesitated, then nodded. "Understood, Remy."

Remy gave him a little wave, then went upstairs to his room, probably to sleep like he usually did. He was really ruining his sleep schedule, Logan thought, but said nothing, trudging into the kitchen and starting up the coffee maker. The smell of the coffee reminded Logan of the coffee shop, and of Patton.

He smiled to himself, seeing the barista's face in his mind. Kind brown eyes, the way his face lit up when he talked about something he loved. That smile . . .

Logan blinked, shaking his head. These feelings were strange. He had only felt them once before, and that occasion had not turned out so well.

He glanced towards the stairs, as if he could see Remy through the walls. Once upon a time, Logan Stone had been in love with a wonderful man who had swept him off his feet. He filled Logan's head with promises, though they were empty in the end. One of those promises was a happy family. After months of going through the adoption process with his now ex-love, he thought everything would be perfect.

But that deceitful man had to shatter it all to pieces.

Logan took a sip of his coffee, cursing when he burned his tongue on the hot liquid. These feelings, these thoughts, they were all so distracting to him. They were getting in the way of his better judgement, slowing down his cognitive functions.

With yet another sigh, he took his steaming mug of coffee upstairs, settling back down at his desk and returning to his work.

*

Remy sat on his bed, curled up under a blanket. He looked down at a photo album, slowly flipping through it.

None of these pictures included him, he noticed. Only photos of his father, along with another man who seemed to pop up a lot in the photos.

These photographs were like a time capsule. Remy had never seen his father this happy like in the photos.

But lately, come to think of it, his dad did look happier. Could it be his new teaching job? Probably not. Surely, he's mentioned something, hasn't he?

Remy groaned in frustration, closing the photo album and carefully placing it under his mattress, his hiding place for it. He really needed to pay attention more, and actually get some sleep.

He curled up tighter, pulling the blanket up to his shoulders, mind swirling with questions.

A few minutes later, he fell asleep.

*

Miles away from the Stone residence, a person sat alone at a table, fidgeting with an empty glass.

The restaurant they were in was packed with people, and they just blended in with everyone.

"Can I get you some more water, sir?" the waitress asked, looking down at him.

"No," he answered, his voice cold.

"Oh, okay . . ." The waitress replied awkwardly, walking away quickly.

The person pulled a folded picture out of his pocket, laying it on the table and unfolding it.

It depicted two young men, in their twenties. They both held a small blue bundle, grinning wide and happily.

But that was years ago.

The man looked down at his younger self in disgust, then folded the picture back up, stuffing it into his pocket. That was then, and this was now.

And so much had changed since then.

*

I had a random idea for this story and put off my homework to do this . . . Welp *shrugs*

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