Soren McKinin; the disappointment of the family, the child his parents wished did not belong to them, the type fathers warned their daughters not to date.
Anger issues, a heartless brute that got into fights and saw the world as dark grey, helples...
I thought I'd add music to this chapter. Music in Bucks basement.
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S O R E N
It wasn't until I was laying awake on my bed that I regretted showing Jay the roses two days ago. They were my pride and joy, my little secret. A secret that should have been kept a secret, because somethings are meant to stay hidden.
Her reaction was one of little movement, she had squatted down and touched one of the petals. Her eyes were wide with wonder as she asked why I did it. I had said nothing because there was nothing to say, I had no answer.
I guess I just did it out of habit, partially out of love and mainly because the roses had seen too many memories to die due to rejection. They were not going to die the same way as me.
It wasn't late but dad had opened up a bottle of vodka to celebrate his business and accomplishment and if he reacted the same way as me, he'd be drinking more than one glass. An angry drunk some would call him, one I avoided at all cost.
My phone vibrated and I picked up the call. Bucks voice was clear, unaltered by the amount of alcohol he had consumed or lack of.
"Hey kid, I know yer told meh not to call you but—" I interpreted him,
"No you don't call, at all. What happened if Albert picked up? He could hunt you guys down and shut down the club, lock you up." Warning him was to no prevail, he always called when a new stock had come in.
"Yah but he ain't picking up yer phone, it's always on yah." He argued the exact point we did every time he called, "Lettin yah know, new stocks in. Busy tonight, come down before it's gone."
I pitched the bridge of my nose, "okay."
"Yer coming?" He asked, I heard laughing and yelling in the background, music playing loudly.
"Anywheres fucking better than here." I grunted, hanging up on him before grabbing my hoodie and jacket.
There was only two way out of the house without anyone seeing you, which was through Red's or Colin's window. A drain pip went straight down the side of the house in both cases, close enough that you could grab onto a slide down from his window sill.
I chose Reds. I knocked once, no one answered so I entered. His room was dark but I could still see his made bed and picture frames on the wall.
Dad had come in and broken the one of him and Sandra, telling him the way to get over someone is to delete all evidence they existed.
I had watched from the doorway as Red picked up the broken glass and frames. He wasn't crying, he hadn't looked hurt at all. He had just hung them back up and saying in a hushed voice, "Sandra, don't you think it's entertaining watching him try break something that can't be broken?"
