hooked | brightwin

twenty-four

bright has been thinking about it since the day auntie knew about their relationship. he also wants his parents to know - may he be damned or not. when win tells him earlier in the office that he can tell them when he's ready, bright knows if there are certain requirements to actually being ready to come out to his parents. should he wear something? ready a speech? get a lot of sleep? prepare his credential? he doesn't know. but at the back of his head he's sure it will all boil down to him saying what he has been feeling for the first time. 

when he goes inside his house, bright is greeted by the familiar scent of loneliness and abandonment. sure, he has win. he has win's mother for support. but despite this, he longs for his parents like he's always done when he was younger and they weren't there for him. he sighs, and heads to the kitchen to drink water when he sees his father seated on a chair and his mother holding a wooden spoon, spinning what seems to be like soup while grasping the casserole with her hand is warmed by an oven mitt.

"i cooked your favorite, sweetie. come, seat." her mother ushers her toward the chair, even taking his bag away from his hand.

"what's with both of you at home?" he asks, not wanting to sound rude or disrespectful but it still made his parents stiff, finding the question difficult to answer. bright washes his hands on the sink before taking a seat.

"your mother and i are on a leave actually," his father says, clearing his throat. 

bright nods, "for how many days?"

his mother lays the plates and cutlery on the table and answers while she looks at bright.

"two days."

bright nods again. his face is calm and composed, just how he's always been toward them ever since he could remember. but inside, his stomach is rumbling with fear and the anxiety of telling the what he's been meaning to tell.

in the middle of eating the casserole, her mother continually flashes a smile at him and asks if he likes it. bright simple nods and smiles back. win's mother's cooking is the best for him, but for this particular moment, he'd put her mother on the pedestal. it's not everyday she cooks for the family, which can be considered rare. 

bright can't remember how many times he's inhaled and exhaled before calling his parents' attention whose focus are eerily on him.

"i like men, and i'm not ashamed of it." 

the words come out of his mouth as if he's spitting fire. for a second, he thinks they're stunned but for him he's finally calmed down knowing what his parents said would less likely matter now that he's open to them. there's the feeling of liberation, freeing from the shackles of obligation to follow the norm just like what they've been teaching him to do since he was young.

just before he puts the spoon in his mouth, he sees her mother pull a tissue from the side and wipe her eyes. his father quickly goes beside his mothers to pat his back. 

"we know, bud. and we're not ashamed of you either." 

that's his father. his father just tells him those words. his father. bright creases his forehead and tilts his head. 

"i don't think you'd like our reasons and how we found out, bud. i've been researching about it and our reasons are more on the stereotypical side. we gathered our hypothetical questions and came to the conclusion that you like men."

"can't you at least give me one reason how you found out?"

"you never had a girlfriend." bright nods, agreeing.

"another?"

his mother chuckles. "the way your eyes sparkle when you're with win, that boy." another chuckles. bright's confusion increases. what's with how he looks at win? he thinks. that's what win's mother also said to him.

"why? how do i look at him."

"like you're never going to let him go," her mother answers as she clasps her hands and smiles. 

it's his father's turn to laugh. 

"you're smitten, buddy. just as i am with your mother."

and he sees his parents kiss. in front of him. instead of making a sour expression, he thinks of win's face. maybe, maybe they're right. bright thinks as he nods.