Warning: homophobic remarks and violence.
. . .
33 : Home
It was already past six in the evening when Damien arrived home. He didn’t head back immediately after school, choosing instead to grab a quick meal with Julian. He didn’t say it out loud, but the thought of returning to this house—this place that never truly felt like home—made his stomach twist in discomfort.
As he stepped inside, he was met with an all-too-familiar silence. The grand chandelier above cast a soft glow over the marble flooring, highlighting the pristine furniture and the cold, lifeless elegance of the mansion. It was beautiful, expensive—yet empty.
Like a museum.
Nadaanan niya ang ilang kasambahay, tahimik at abala sa kani-kanilang gawain. Hindi niya pinansin ang mga ito at nagpatuloy sa paglalakad, agad na tinutungo ang hagdan upang umakyat sa kanyang kwarto. He had no intention of lingering here longer than necessary.
But then, he caught a familiar scent coming from the kitchen—freshly cooked steak.
Napahinto siya. Hindi dahil sa gutom, kundi dahil sa kuryosidad. His father didn’t usually eat dinner this early.
And when he turned his head toward the dining area, his steps faltered.
There, sitting at the long table, was his father. Opposite him sat a woman and a young boy, both of them engaged in quiet conversation as they shared a meal together.
His stepmother. And his half-brother.
The scene before him was one he had witnessed many times before, yet it never failed to stir something bitter inside him.
His father, sensing his presence, looked up. Their gazes met.
“You’re here, son.” His voice was calm, as if Damien’s sudden arrival was nothing more than a minor detail in his evening.
The woman and the boy turned to face him as well, but Damien barely spared them a glance. He kept his expression neutral, unreadable, before finally looking away. Without a word, he turned his back on them and headed for the stairs.
His chest felt heavy with each step he took.
Yes, Damien had a stepmother. And yes, he had a half-brother.
But no, he never truly considered them family.
When Damien lost his mother, his world shattered.
So did his father’s.
For a time, it was just the two of them—silent, grieving, lost. His father buried himself in work, and Damien... was left to pick up the pieces on his own.
Then, one day, a woman entered their lives.
She was warm at first, kind and gentle, her words soft and her actions measured. Damien didn’t immediately reject her presence. In fact, he tried to be open to the idea of change, of moving forward. He wanted to believe that his father had found someone who could bring light back into their home.
But as time passed, things shifted.
The warmth in her voice turned into a sharp edge. The gentle touches became unwelcome commands. She wasn’t a motherly figure—she was a presence that dominated the household, inserting herself into every corner of Damien’s life where she wasn’t needed nor wanted.
And then came the child.
His half-brother. The boy who, through no fault of his own, became the center of everything.
