Little By Little {S.Stan}

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by trashm0uth-h

by trashm0uth-h

You sit on your bed, staring down at the carpet in front of you and contemplating your next move. Running away seems the most viable option at the moment because let's be honest, is he going to notice you're missing? He's never cared before, why would he now?

You sit in the living room of your grandma's living room, the TV playing Elmo and Friends. Yeah, you love your grandma with all your tiny heart, but you miss your dad. He never happens to be here, and when he is, all he does is pack for when he next needs to leave, then he leaves you with someone else. You hear your grandma's phone ring and your head perks up when you hear your dad's name.

"Seb, please." She begs, sounding desperate. You frown and take matters into your own hands. "She misses you, you might think she doesn't but she does," She says. You push yourself up onto your feet and smile, getting the hardest part out of the way. "Sebastian, she already doesn't have a mother, you have to be here for her." She tells him, her tone now sounding angrier. She knows her son's being reckless, you're at the point when you're near walking and talking...well it's a little late for the first one. You put your left leg in front of your right one, then your left in front of your right, so on so on. You waddle into the kitchen to see your grandma with her back turned to you. "You should be here, Seb." She says, hanging up the phone. She turns around when she sees you standing there, a proud little smile on your face.

"Dada!" You cheer. She frowns and walks towards you.

"No, Y/N. Dada isn't here. But wow! You walked here all by your self and said your first word! He'll be so proud when I tell him" She says. You frown, where is he?

"But daddy, I wanna stay with you" You whine. Sebastian sighs.

"I know, but you aren't allowed to these places. You're too little right now." He says. You cross your arms over your chest and pout. "And anyway's, I thought you love spending time with Chris?" He asks.

"I do, but I miss you," You say. He says nothing as he walks out of his room. You slide down from his bed and you walk along the hall of the apartment, your bare feet padding off of the floor. "You'll be back tonight?" You ask him hopefully. He smiles and nods, walking over to you and picking you up, putting you on his hip. He grabs his jacket and your little backpack as he leaves the apartment.

The next morning, you just stare out the window in the room Chris had you sleep in. He comes in occasionally and tries to get you to move, tries to get you to drink or eat something, but your response has always been the same.

"He said he'd be back"

It was that day, that little by little, you started feeling like your dad doesn't love you. You were only 5 years old, you shouldn't have felt like that. It's the little things he does, like leaving you, making promises he can't keep, and not spending any time with you.

As you got older, you began to get used to him leaving you, but most times he'd just let you stay in the house. He'd be away for an unspecified amount of time, sometimes it'd be a few hours, or maybe a few weeks. It was never that specific, but he always at least texted you. Today just so happens to be one of the days he's promised to do something with you.

You sit on the couch in the living room, scrolling through social media and looking up when he clears his throat. You put your phone down on the arm of the couch and prepare for the inevitable words that are going to leave his mouth.

"I have to leave tonight, I have a shoot tomorrow in Atlanta a-"

"It's fine, just go," You say, sounding agitated. Sebastian raises his eyebrows at you.

"Hey, watch your tone" He warns. You shake your head and scoff.

"Out of all of that, all you took from it was my fucking tone?" You ask him.

"Y/N!" He yells.

"You remember my name? Well, that's a first, seeing as you're never here!" You yell back.

"Y/N stop!" He exclaims. You shake your head and walk up to him. Even when you attempt to square up to him, he towers over you drastically.

"No. You're never here and you know that. You missed everything, you missed the first time I ever walked and talked, you missed my first day of pre-school, you missed my first day of elementary school. The list goes on, dad. So tell me, why? Why were you never here?" You say, your anger turning into sadness. "What was more important than me?!" You cry out. He looks down at you, a look of sadness flashes over his face, but anger soon overtakes it.

"Everything. Everything was more important." He says. A look of heartbreak dances over your face and you back away from him. A wave of realization hits him as you walk away, he realizes what he said. "Y/N," He says. You walk out of the living room, tears glistening in your eyes.

You dig through your closet, picking out hoodies and sweatshirts, underwear and other necessities you may need. You throw them all in your backpack, your school books strewn across your bed. You lift your mattress and grab the stash of money you keep hidden, counting it and being pleasantly surprised when you count about $250. That should be enough to get you somewhere, right? You grab your charger and shove it in one of the compartments in your bag. You grab your bag and sling it over your shoulder, walking over to your window. You turn back around and look around your room, letting out a sigh. You push your window up and swing your leg over and climbing out and standing on the fire escape. You pull your window down and climb down the rusty fire escape, every clank setting fear in your heart, what if he catches you? You push the thought out of your mind and land on the concrete. You make sure no one sees you and take off from the apartment building, running through the dark streets of New York. You end up at Penn Station, boarding a train to Jersey. Even though it's not far, it's far enough for you. You sit on the train and lean your head against the window, pulling out your earphones and plugging them into your phone, blasting your music as loud as they allow.

Sebastian wakes up, groaning upon realizing he slept outside of your door. He stands up and knocks on your door.

"Y/N?" He asks, knocking once again. "Y/N!" He says again, trying to pull the door open. He stops when he feels it's locked. "Y/N, I'm sorry, now please open the damn door!" He pleads. "Fine, stand back," He says, moving back and kicking the door open. His heart stops when he sees your school books on your bed, your closet in disarray, and your mattress sitting ever so slightly off. "Y/N!" He yells. He pulls out his phone and tries calling you, but his stomach flips when it goes straight to voicemail. His heart stops and he suddenly finds himself the question you found yourself asking for years on end,

"Where are you?"