So, That's Your Dad? (Freddie Mercury)

Chapter Forty Six: The Big Question

Ben's POV
The sun has risen which means that it is time for me to get up for the day. I get out of my bed and turn on the lamp. It is still not bright enough and I stood up to open the curtains. The sun now shines brightly which means there is no real need for a lamp to be on. I forget about it and put on a pair of jeans. I have worn the same shirt for three days. Do I care? No.

Today is the day that I have been wait for in the span of a very long. Two weeks have gone by slowly and it has really annoyed me. Today is the day when my two best friends come back from different parts of the world. Tiffany in Zanzibar and Joe in the United States. Freddie welcomed me to stay for as long as I want. So I made the choice to stay until I go back to school for my second year. I don't know why I chose to get my degree in political science. I don't exactly know what to do after. I can't run for Congress, I wouldn't be twenty five yet. And as much as I would want to run for President, I wasn't born on US soil. Oh what the fuck am I doing with my life?

And I actually thought that Freddie has the fucking kindness to adopt me. I have had the papers since I immigrated to the US thinking that some family would have sympathy to take me in, but that's never happened. Although I did get close to a particular family, and one girl who is the luckiest girl in the world to call this man dad. Joe and I have always talked about it secretly but have never acted on it. I had even made a copy of the same adoption papers for Joe. Yes, that is how serious I am about wanting Freddie to be my dad.

         No, it's not because he's a famous icon at all, even though having money is just an extra luxury I get to have. But at least I would be able to say that I have a dad. I would understand. I'm an adult now, maybe I don't need parents.

        I think critically about doing this as I am sitting at the kitchen table drink a cup of tea and reviewing the papers. Just to make sure that I know what I am getting myself into for the last time. I go through every sentence, taking it all in for what it actually says. Do I understand anything that it says? No. Do I care? No.

        I hear the door to the kitchen open and I'm immediately annoyed by the person who walks in. Staying here alone in this twenty eight room house has been hell for two weeks. I would've left but I had nowhere to go, Tiffany locked the door to her house. Jim has been the only one who has been relatively friendly to me. Peter hasn't said much to me, not that I care. But I would rather have one of those to walk in than this person a distance away from me.

       Joe Fanelli, the fucking cook is who I take issue with. I don't know why we don't like each other but we just don't. Maybe we don't understand one another? I don't want to understand him. He's an asshole. "Every time I come in the kitchen, you're in the kitchen! Eating up all the goddamn food!" He's already bitching at me. I can't stand his accent. It's so American and annoying. It's not like Tiffany's accent which I find very sexy, it's ugly whenever he unintentionally uses it.

       "Joseph you have one job and one job only, so stay out of my way and I'll stay out of yours!" I come back aggressively. "What the fuck are you even here for?!" Oh shit here we go. "I'm here because I finished my second semester of my first year of college. You probably didn't even go to college or didn't get a good job after and that's why you're here." I try to tear him down. "Actually, I went to community college and it was the best decision of my life, two fucking years." He told me. I scoff. He's nothing compared to me. I'm going places unlike him.

       "And you're in your late thirties still living with your ex boyfriend, when I'm nineteen and I have my own place." I tell him. He laughed. Probably not being able to believe that I went there. "Dumbass. You really think that you're an adult when you have your own place? Call me when your balls drop." Fanelli said and started to wash the used dishes. I gasped which allowed him to know that I was offended. "You're an asshole!" I yell. "YOURE A LITTLE CUNT!" He screamed.