18+
"stop saying that! stop saying you love me or- or that you missed me more than anything. don't tell me i'm your favorite girl. just, fuck," she shook her head. "don't say shit you don't mean, mike. don't lie to me."
the money, the fame, the se...
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it would've been the perfect holiday picture.
everyone was dressed in their christmas eve best — el in a black velvet dress with a white turtleneck underneath, mike matching in a black cable-knit sweater.
it would've been the perfect holiday picture if it wasn't for the fact that they didn't even get the chance to finish lunch before mike and his father were shouting at one another from across the dining table.
"you think just because right now, you've found yourself a bit of fame and some people you've never met give a shit about you, you're set for life, but let me tell you, son. it won't last," ted wheeler spoke through gritted teeth, ignoring his wife's objecting hand on his left shoulder.
mike barked a laugh. "yeah, and what would you know about someone giving a shit about me? it's not like you ever have."
karen's mouth fell open before she straightened her shoulders. "mike, that's not fair. you know your father loves and cares about you—"
"oh, fucking spare me that shi-"
"language!" his mother cut off, glancing at his younger sister. holly had shrunk into her seat, no longer eating.
el briefly shut her eyes, silently cursing nancy for spending her christmas with steve and his family in boston. mike's older sister was always the mediator when his dad started railing on him for his career choices.
ted started up again, "all i'm suggesting is for you to think long-term, michael. you need a back up plan for when this whole celebrity thing doesn't work out." the way he said it was what irked el the most, it was the way he always said everything. like he was absolutely 100% right. like his opinion was a fact.
"when it doesn't work out?" mike repeated. "dad, it's already worked out. i've made millions, i'm in movies, my band's album sales have broken records, i've toured the entire fucking planet-"
"language!"
"i've worked on films with meryl streep and leonardo dicaprio, i've been in the studio with paul mccartney and carole king. so no, i'm not about to go to college and waste time getting a law degree when it's seriously the last thing i'd ever want to do," he explained in a low but clearly annoyed voice.
el reached for his leg under the table, offering her quiet support. he didn't hesitate to grasp ahold of her hand and twine their fingers together.
"but let me ask you this, son. what's a couple million dollars in the life you're living? how fast do you blow through it, huh? i know your penthouse in new york isn't cheap. then you've gotta pay for all your dirty habits, don't you? the booze, the drugs, the girls," he cast his harsh gaze to el. "no matter how much you like coming home to play house with this one, she's gotta know the truth, doesn't she?" el couldn't help it when her grip on mike's hand slightly loosened. "she's got to know that as soon as you're back to that city, you're snorting blow and screwing girls like— oh, i forgot, that's right — you're bisexual." mike's nostrils flared. "not only are you sleeping around with girls when you're away, you're sleeping with guys, too." his eyes locked on el. "that's gotta hurt, huh?"
