He Doesn't Know; I Know

Part Twenty: I'm proud of you

Michael's P.O.V.

"Yeah, yeah," I said, annoyed. "Just call my dad and tell him I'm here."

"Ri-right a-away, si-sir," she stuttered.

I shook my head in annoyance as I turned my back on her, facing the shelf where my dad has hundreds of CDs and cassette tapes collection. I heard footsteps, guessing that Samantha, my dad's personal assistant, has left to fetch him.

My eyes landed on a Nirvana CD that sat in between Sex Pistols and The Queens when someone fake coughed behind me.

I spun around and locked eyes with a brown eyed girl.

"Morning, brother," Stella smiled, dropping her bag at the couch. "You're early."

"So you can get your class schedule and head to class easily," I pointed out, smiling. "Also, I need to talk to dad."

"About what?" A familiar voice said. Dad was standing by the doorframe, smiling at me. He was wearing a black ripped jeans and a black tee with the word Green Day on it. His hair was dyed to red, which is not really surprising at all. Just last month he had it green actually. I think that's one thing I got from him.

You could say I am a little mad at him for leaving us. He was supposed to be there for me and be my father but he left and had another woman aside mum and stuff. But, at least he tried to stay in touch. Mum was okay with it. She was okay with me hanging out with Stella even if she's not blood related with her at all.

"Aren't you a little old for Green Day?" I asked, raising my eyebrow at him.

He smirked. "Come on, Gordon! I'm no old pops of yours! I'm punk rock!"

"Err," I eyed him from head to toe, before shaking my head for a no, chuckling awkwardly. "No, you're not. You're disgusting for your age."

"You're seeing yourself in me after a few years," he laughed. "So, what brings you this early?"

"Yeah, that," I said, remembering why I decided to pick Stella early. I looked at Stella and said; "wait for me in the car. I'll be out in a minute or two."

"Okay," she simply said as I threw her my key. She turned on her heels and headed outside.

"So," dad started, sitting at the couch. He nodded at the empty chair in front of him.

I sat, placing my hands on my knees. "Well, I was just wondering... I..."

I stopped, cutting myself.

Exactly how would I tell him, I thought.

"What?" He asked.

I nervously chuckled. "This is, like, this would give mum some heartbreak since I never really grew up with you. But... but I... I think I'm a lot like you, dad."

His eyes widen. More with glee, I must say.

"What do you mean, son?" He asked excitedly, grinning.

"I'm in love with music the way you do," I finally said the words I wanted to tell mum last night. Its easier to tell dad about this because we have the same passion. That's one thing I'm sure of even though I didn't have him around growing up.

"I don't know how to tell mum about this," I continued. "Cause, you know, she's all school and just school."

"She's right, anyway," he agreed, nodding. "But at the end of the day, its still your decision on things you wanna do."

"Well, that's my point," I said. "I wanna play music. And me and my friends were chosen to do a show in the UK. We're leaving on Thursday night. I'm worried about mum."

"Do you really wanna go and play music?" He asked.

I nodded.

"I'll talk to her," he smiled. "I'll come down your place tomorrow, anyway."

"Wow, really?" I asked, smiling. "So its a yes from you? You're okay with it?"

"I'm more than okay," he said happily. "I'm proud of you!"

"Gee," I breathed out. "Thanks, dad!"

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A/N: I was talking and singing to my guy best friend. Its just for fun and we're kinda catching up because we haven't talked for days. And I don't know, I just hate it when people talks shit and loves to label. Especially when its from any of the family. I mean, fuck, I grew up with a family full of boys, they should have expected me to have a lot of guy friends and a guy as a best friend.

Anywhoopsie, where's Calum?! He's up next!