Chapter Eight

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"With you, I'm home."

~Anonymous

Alex

My father wasn't a very emotional man. Also, even though he was a pretty focused family man, he wasn't that close to his family. So, it didn't surprise anyone when he arranged to have his father's funeral less than twelve hours after he died. It would also be a lie to say that I managed to last throughout the whole thing without getting high.

My grandfather had died of a heart attack, which did add up with his habit to enjoy fatty foods all till yesterday. Alex, I'm old, I'll die soon. And I'll be damned if I go without enjoying my last meal, he used to say to me.

"So, Alexander," some wrinkly cousin of my father's said, at some point during the reception. "What do you plan on doing after high school? Will you follow your brother's footsteps or will you follow your mother to Medicine?"

My father must have seen something in my features because he decided to interfere. "Alexander is not sure what he will study. For now, he is focusing on his finishing high –"

"Actually, I have decided what I will do," I interrupted him. He gave me a dangerous glare that was dictating me to shut up, but I was already fed up today with his superior act. "The moment I graduate I'm moving to LA where I'll focus on my musical career. That's what grandpa wanted me to do".

"Oh, you're into arts?! That's awesome, I bet you are very proud of him," my aunt, or whatever she was to me, said not feeling the mood. Neither my father nor I were paying attention to her at this point, instead, we stared at each other in the eyes.

"Yes, we are very proud of him," he said through gritted teeth, faking a smile. "Excuse us for a second," he added and practically hauled me out to the balcony of the venue. "What the hell was that?" he asked, voice low but dangerous.

"She asked me what I wanted to do with my future. What was I supposed to do? Lie?" I replied, my voice mimicking his.

"Yes, in cases like this you lie. In families like ours, you don't throw your hands up and fall back into the arts. Singing. Even animals can do that," he scoffed and folded his arms before his chest.

"While Law is so hard, right? That's why you can find a Law firm in almost every fucking corner of the street, right? Because it's so hard compared to singing," I said.

"Watch your language," he warned.

"Why should I? Will it ruin your image as the perfect father? Will it make others frown upon your parenting? Let them, maybe they'll finally realize that you haven't done any parenting".

I wasn't sure what had gotten into me. It was probably my anger at him, mixed with some weed and the whole experience from yesterday. I had met Aaron for a couple of moments, but it was enough for me to feel an inkling of the love Hunter felt every day. It was nothing like this.

"Alexander Cliff-"

"Don't you dare. Don't you dare cut me off and end this conversation here. What do I have to do in order for it to get through your thick skull? I'm a musician whether you like it or not. And I will work on my musical career no matter what you want. And Clifford, he urged me to follow my dreams. He was more of a father to me than..." I stopped short because someone opened the door and came out to smoke. My father came closer to me, as angry as ever, and spoke in a calm, yet furious, tone.

"I don't know what in the name of God you're on, but I can't talk to you like this. Go home and will talk later about this".

Without further ado, he got back inside and I forced myself not to scream. This man... he didn't let his father's corpse get cold before putting him in the ground. He didn't let others make their own choices. He didn't understand the concept of change. He... he was the reason I was into this mess.

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