Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oof I rushed the end of this and I'm too tired to fix spelling mistakes.
The Mell household hadn't been quite as lively since Michael's mother died.
At first it was just him and his father against the world, but that only lasted so long.
Mr. Mell started alienating himself from Michael when he was just a 7th grader, often leaving for business trips unannounced and ignoring the flurry of worried texts from his son as he boarded the plane.
Other times it was more obvious. On the off chance he was home, there was never a moment where he wasn't scrolling through emails or on the phone with fellow employees.
And then bad went to worse.
The filipino barely recognized his father anymore. He was never home, and when he was, Michael had to put his headphones at max volume and pretend he didn't hear the mixture of moans and skin slapping from down the hall.
At times like that he'd storm out of the house, making sure to slam the door on his way out loud enough to alert his father of his absence. Wiping hot tears from his eyes with the heel of his hand, he'd trudge over to Jeremy's house under the cover of darkness.
Jeremy, of course, had always welcomed him with open arms, having understood how losing a mother and a connection with his father felt. They would play on the NES downstairs, laughing and killing zombies while ignoring the problems in both of their lives.
There were fights and rough patches, as there are in most relationships, but it stayed like that through the entirety of middle school, high school, and even when the two first started dating in senior year.
But Michael noticed something in his final months of school, something that never failed to leave a scowl on his lips.
His father tried rekindling their relationship.
Whether it was genuine, for show, or some kind of cruel joke, Michael wanted nothing to do with it.
It started off simple enough, brief text messages informing the younger boy when he'd be leaving for a business trip, sometimes bothering to leave a halfassed burnt piece of toast on the kitchen counter.
Other times it was the occasional, awkward introduction to the cheap, intoxicated prostitu- lovely women he would bring home on a Saturday night.
And then bad went to worse.
The previous tense silence in the house was replaced with constant heated arguing and bickering between Michael and his father.
"Useless," Mark would mutter on the phone to his coworkers,"Ungrateful child."
