Schizophrenic Steve || ʙʟᴜᴇꜱ ᴄʟᴜᴇꜱ

Mommy Issues

[TW: mention of drinking. And... mommy issues... obviously, that's the title of the chapter!]
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Steve loved his mother. But he also hated the way she made him feel sometimes. She'd be emotionally absent at times. But she was the only parent figure Steve had, well, after his dad died.

Steve has always been this way since he was born. Emotionally unstable. But his dad dying while he was a child really broke him into pieces. Maybe it's why he'd cling onto his mom so much throughout his childhood.

But there were times he'd have to be alone. Well, at least he wasn't completely alone. Not with Joe still by his side.

...

"Mommy, please stay. Pleaseeee, Mom." Pleaded a 12 year old Steve. His mom was getting all glamoured up, going out. She'd say it's her 'girls night' but who actually knew what she was doing while she was out? It was troubling.

"Dear, don't worry. You're a big boy now, you can handle it. Be the man of the house, and keep an eye on Joey." She said, not even looking at Steve as she applied cherry lipstick while she gazed at her reflection in her vanity.

His mother's choice of words made him think. What is it to be the man? Is she saying he's weak? Steve didn't like that. He tugged on her black leather jacket, "When are you going to be back?"

She sighed, closed her lipstick and faced Steve. Now he was a bit worried he'd upset her. "I'll be back before you know it, Son." She got down to his level and patted his dark brunette hair. She gave him a motherly smile, which made him feel better. He could smell her perfume, her fresh, sweet rose fragrance.

She had this look to her. She didn't really look like a mom. She was... full of charm, dazzling. Like a classic Hollywood star. Her flowing, long, dark hair paired with her doe eyes, and her height, topped off with her sharp, yet feminine-soft, features made her exquisite.

She's always beautiful, whether she's natural or dolled up. Steve was jealous of how her looks passed down to Joe, not him. Sometimes he wished he had more of his mom's features, so that every time he looked at his reflection he wouldn't see a younger version of his dad. Dad, the man of the house, who's now buried. His admirable father, he was such a smart man.

But he was so mentally troubled, like Steve.

He damn passed all his genes down to Steve. So that meant that Steve could be just like his dad. But he wasn't. Maybe for the best.

Little Steve was so lost in his mother's gaze that he didn't even protest her leaving. She gave him a quick kiss on his cheek, leaving a bit of a lipstick stain, and walked out the door. Ugh, now it's only a matter of time before she'll return. Which is most likely gonna be... a few hours, at least.

And she'll be drenched in her perfume to cover up the alcoholic scent.

Steve washed off the cherry colored stain on his cheek, by only smearing it. But hey, at least some of the color has gone away. He went up to check on his brother, who was screwing off, being a normal 9 year old.

"Joey, you better get your ass in bed before Mom gets back."

"Steve! That wasn't very nice. You aren't my parent— or anything. Just a silly big bro."

"Yeah, well, Mom made me Man of the house! So that means— it means I have to keep things under control."

Joe scoffed and mocked his "YeAh, wEll," then added "she isn't going to be back in, like, hours. We can do whatever we want, we're home alone! This is a good thing, Steve. None of the kids in my class ever get to be home alone. We can stay up as late as we want with no consequences!"

Joe was happy, while Steve was the opposite. He rolled his eyes and thought, "yeah, no consequences because she'll be hungover when she gets back."

...

While their mom was out, she went to places for adults to have fun. She'd go out to bars with her friends, meet new people, and most the time, when she was intoxicated, she'd talk about how fucked up her oldest son is.

"Oh he's just like his daddy! Adorable kid, but an absolute spawn from hell at times." She laughed with her girl friends, referring to Steve, of course. "Don't worry, Shannon. Kids are always a mess." Her good friend, Samantha, replied. "Awh, I know. I just don't understand because my other son, Joe, is perfectly normal. I mean, how does that work?! If Steve didn't look exactly like his dad then I'd assume my baby got swapped at the hospital."

The girls giggled playfully at the dark joke. Shannon was definitely intoxicated to be talking about her kids like this, showing her true colors. "This is nice, I just need a little break sometimes, ya know? Also, Steve is super clingy. I don't think it's a phase, he's always done this ever since his father passed away. Is it some type of trauma response?"

"Tsk, I'm no psychiatrist but I'm pretty sure that's the case. But hey, it's better than being cold and distant." Samantha replied while putting her hand on Shannon's shoulder, rubbing her tension away a bit. She sighed.

"You're right, Sam. But personally, I'm not sure. Hey, let's take another round of shots, shall we?" She smirked and Sam chuckled slyly, "Let's."

And rest of the night was kinda a blur. Felt like she blacked out, at least once. Faded memories flashed in her mind, kissed Samantha once or twice. Met a cute guy, who she later made out with and was gonna go as far as hooking up with him but she stopped because she just met him and didn't know if he was clean or not.

She was left with a few hickeys and lipstick stains around her collarbone. Her hair got a bit messy. It's impressive that she hasn't thrown up, but then again she's been doing this for a while. "Hey, what time is it, Sam?"

"Hm, it's like 3:21 AM. You gon bail?"

"Ugh, I wish I didn't have to. But you know, being a mother and all... having to tend to my sons. Hmph, I wonder if Steve's still awake. He stays up late on weekends, sometimes, or whenever I'm out. Weird ass kid." She mumbled.

"Hey it's okay. Your a great mother, Shannon." Samantha gazed at her friend dearly, who smiled back. "Thanks, Sam."

...

Shannon returned at around 4 AM. Steve heard the keys unlock the door, he immediately went down. He smelled that familiar scent of perfume and alcohol. "Mommy, you're back." He went up to hug her, to which she awkwardly pat his head.

"Yeah, what are you doing still up? Is Joe asleep?"

"Oh yeah— he's fast asleep. Um, you know me. Just.." Steve struggled to come up with an excuse for why he was up so late. His mother raised an eyebrow, which made him nervous.

"I was feeling funny. My sleeping schedule is fine, you know how much melatonin has an effect on me. Besides, I missed you." Steve looked at his mom with puppy eyes, but then his eyes trailed down to her upper chest. The marks. To the naive boy, he thought they were bruises.

"Mom? Are you alright? What happened?" Steve was concerned. Shannon could hear to worry in his voice. "Dammit, fuck my life." She thought.

"Don't worry, Steve. Mommy is perfectly fine, feeling great, actually. These are just marks of love." She tried to make it sound as innocent as possible. Poor Steve was confused. Love marks? How does that work? Do they just appear on someone when they are loved? His curiosity got to the best of him.

"Well why don't I have any love marks?"

Shannon was taken aback, "what??"

"You love me, right? How come I'm not marked?"

...

It was silent for a moment, until Shannon chuckled, which turned into a light hearted laugh. "Oh son, you'll figure it out some day. I think it's time for bed."

"Wait what?" Steve thought. But he didn't bother. She's right, he'll figure it out later.

Figure out that his mom is something of an alcoholic whore.