Old Lovers In Dressing Rooms (Past)- **GRAPHIC**

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Playlist
You Me at Six- Room to Breathe
James Arthur-Beautiful Lies
Sia- Chandelier
Keaton Henson- 10am Gare du Nord

**NOTE: THIS CHAPTER DOES CONTAIN SOME CHILD ABUSE. IF THIS IS A TRIGGER TO YOU, IT'S PROBABLY BETTER TO SKIP THIS CHAPTER**
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“Don’t make me come up there again and beat it out of ya Callum!” Jonno yelled up the stairs to Callum who was currently cowering in his room, petrified.

It was just another standard week night in the Highway Family household. Stuart and Callum’s father Jonno was drunk, and as per usual, almost like clockwork, he had thought that either Callum or Stuart had stolen money from him that he was going to use to buy yet more booze. Seeing as Stuart was out tonight, it only left Callum as the main culprit; or so Jonno thought. Neither had ever taken the money, they wouldn’t dare, but Jonno never saw it like that as he was always too pissed to even remember his own son’s names half the time.

What would usually happen would be that Jonno would withdraw £50 every night after work; without fail. Go to the nearest Bargain Booze and spend half of it on cheap cider, beer, or whatever he could get his hands on, then at some point in the night he would run out and make a trip back to get more. Finally ending the night, usually down the pub with mates, and stumbling through the door blind drunk in the early hours ready to start work the next morning, nursing a hangover.

Only this time he had already blown the £50 before he had even made it to the pub. Of course Callum couldn’t tell him that, as it would be about as useful as a fart in the wind, and he would get screamed at for ‘answering back’, or worse.

“Useless! That’s what you are. Just like yer mother was, you are!” His father yelled up at him again. There was a smash, and Callum could imagine that being yet another TV with a fist through it, sprawled in pieces across the living room floor.

He hated the way his dad would compare him to his dead mother. He was sure that none of what was said was true, this was only made sadder by the fact that he would never get to find out for himself and she would never get to defend herself.

CRASH!

There went the coffee table and the TV stand

BANG! BANG! THUMP!

There were three more fist-shaped indentations added to the ever-growing collection that littered the walls throughout the house.

“DON’T TALK ABOUT ‘ER LIKE THAT!” Callum screamed back down to his father, who had now moved into the kitchen and was flinging plates around like a madman.

Callum knew as soon as he opened his mouth that it was the wrong thing to have done, and he quickly clamped a hand firmly to his mouth to prevent more from spilling out.

“WHAT WAS THAT!” His father roared.

Callum bit down on his bottom lip and tried to push himself further into the corner of his bedroom, willing himself to become invisible. He knew he didn’t stand a chance against his father whilst Stuart wasn’t there to defend him.

“I SAID. DON’T TALK ABOUT MUM LIKE THAT!” He sobbed, tears freely flowing down his cheeks and falling, soaking his ill-fitting, slightly-too-small, school trousers right through, until they formed two dark ovals on the knees. “GO AWAY!” He yelled.

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