happiness is a butterfly

sympathy for the devil

Nate was manipulative and immoral.

He had heard those words thrown his way many times over the years, along with other unforgiving words such as asshole, sociopath, narcissist, abusive.

He knew he wasn't an inherently good person, he knew had some issues. He also knew the root of this evil was his father.

The thought of bringing a new life into the world left Nate conflicted. On one hand, he was excited at the prospect of creating his own family and being a better father than Jacobs men before him. On the other hand, he was terrified of perpetuating the Jacobs legacy of fucked up individuals.

So what do you do when a poisonous malady spreads through your body? How do you stop yourself from infecting those around you?

If you cut the sneak at the head, the body will die. If you remove the disease, you cure the symptoms.

Essentially, Cal had to go.

As he walked up to his father's hideout, he could hear some retro Kylie Minogue tunes playing in the background.

Inside the construction site was a mixed group of people having the time of their life. He found it ironic that they were all there enjoying life, that his dad was smiling and dancing, while his family struggled with the consequences of his happiness.

It wasn't fair.

Nate had made his presence known, introducing himself as Cal's son to the joyous bunch. The tension emanating from Cal was not felt by the group, too enthralled by Nate's cocky attitude to predict what was about to happen.

"You know what I think we have in common?" He would ask, pouring himself a drink. "We both get off on hurting other people."

He was not surprised at his father's attempt to take this conversation away from their audience. Nate knew Cal Jacobs- and although this new Cal was all about fun, the real Cal was always one to worry about perception and reputation.

"Are you happier now?" or are you happier now that you're living your truth rather than being my father?

As Nate proceeded to tell his father's new friends about finding his dad's sex tapes as an 11 year old boy, the room quickly sobered up. Despite the pleasant temperature of the evening, Cal felt as though his body had suddenly been thrust into a deep freezer.

"For the longest time I had this recurrent nightmare, over and over, and in it he was fucking me as he fucked them. Did I ever tell you about that, dad?"

As the group dispersed at Cal's request they leave, father and son engaged in a stare down. Where Cal's body was cold and frozen, Nate felt warm and pumping from the adrenaline.

All this time, Cal had dwelled on how his inability to form a connection with his sexual partners and living a double life had affected his happiness and ability to be the best version of himself. He had also considered how his truth would affect Marsha. He had thought his sons may feel some embarrassment. He had anticipated his parents would be disappointed.

But he never thought about this scenario.

As he looked at his son, as he listened to his words, he finally saw in Nate a child traumatised from keeping his father's perverted habits a secret all his youth. A secret Cal had no idea his son had been protecting for him.

I am who you made me into- Cal had once yelled at his own father during an argument, many years back. And it pained him to see the same reality unfold, only ten times worse, with his own child.

Cal had always seen his son as an angry individual, an entitled brat that got his way by force, a leader at heart. He could now see him as ashamed and self-loathing, a consequence of witnessing those tapes at a young age.

I made that, I created this beast.

Cal would try to apologise to Nate, try to explain that he had no intention of anyone ever seeing those tapes, of saddling him with the burden of his secret life. He would apologise for not being the father Nate deserved, for not protecting him from his sexual life.

But there was no point apologising now, the damage had been done. Nate had no need for a father at this stage of his life, not when he himself was to become a father.

"You don't get to fuck up our lives and be happy, dad." His hand went rummaging in his pocket before adding. "Which is why I had to do this."

As he flashed a small USB device in his father's face, Cal's heart sank at the thought of what his vindictive son could have in mind.

"What do you want, Nate?"

"Your little speech the other day? Yeah, that's never going to happen." He would inch closer to his father. "Unless you want me to release this to the authorities and believe me, this has everything. Every little perverted, fucked up thing you recorded. Even you fucking a minor."

As his son went on to state his terms in exchange for his silence, what he wanted from his father to secure his own prosperity and future, Cal felt himself sinking deeper and deeper into a hole.

How did he go from dancing to Kylie Minogue to watching his whole life flash before him?

He would look at Nate's sinister smile as he listened to his plans of taking over his business, going to a college of his choice, being with his girlfriend and child. Cal realised the person in front of him was a devil he never wanted to mess with.

Because when you make a deal with the devil, you can be sure he always comes to collect- and Nate had spent the last eight years protecting his father from his demise.

It was now his turn to claim Cal's soul.

Pleased to meet you, hope you guessed my name, but what's puzzling you is the nature of my game.