TRIGGER WARNING: Panic attack

Micah: Maybe you have to tell Aaron. He made a friend: DiScenta.

I let out a shaky breath, looking from the text to the letter from my father.

He wants me to visit him. Why?

With trembling hands, I open the envelop again and attempt for the fifth time to read further than the first line.

Sebastian,

I request your visit. You have been a coward the last decade, not daring to meet me. I am the one who fed you, who raised you and who taught you the world. It's time to pay me back, yes?

You owe me. You took my love from me the day you were born, and I had nothing than shit with you. You've always been ungrateful to me. Do you think the Whitlocks appreciate you? Do you really think so?

Yes. They are my parents, and they're the one who raised me. Not this piece of trash who left me to die.

This is the last invitation I send. If you are not here in less than 48 hours, I will put you on my blacklist and you'll never get to see me again.

-U

I don't want to face him again. He's been my nightmare for my whole life. My father is a horrible man, both as a dad and a human.

His shit is affecting me. I'm so tired of getting hate mails, all saying I'll turn out just like my dad did. I'm so tired of them, and I want them to stop. I'm not like my father. I'm nothing like him. The only thing in common is our DNA.

Doubt fills me. But what about all the questions? Can I let him go without answers?

I groan and hide my face in my trembling hands. Just when I thought life was going to be normal again, this happens.

And this time Ada isn't here to stop me from blacking out with alcohol or drugs. The thought scares me, but in some way, I'm relieved. I look up from the letter to the cabinet with my bottles of whisky in it.

I need to forget.

My eyes slide to the clock. It's 5.03. We're meeting up at Aiden's at seven. I wouldn't be okay if I drink now.

They won't miss me that much.

My body starts trembling with panic now. I've never been able to handle panic attacks alone. Mom was always by my side, or Aiden, and sometimes even Micah. But now?

Loneliness engulfs me. I look between the kitchen cabinet and the table with his letter again. My eyes blurry with tears of desperation.

I don't want to disappoint.

My protest breaks. I collapse, the hot tears streaming over my cheeks. This feeling is shit, and I know there only one way to get rid of it.

I reach for the whisky.

My thoughts are screaming at me. I'll never be good enough for him. I'm just taking his shit because somehow, I had hope he'd look at me as if he's proud. Instead, he hates me, and everyone else hates me because he's my father.

Breathing heavily, I sink on my knees just before I can get a hold on the bottle. $260 dollars worth of alcohol crashes on the floor, but all I can think about is how I'm such a disgrace to everyone.

My father is in jail for the murder of four people. One of them was DiScenta's mother. I had no idea. But because people can't hurt him, they turn to me instead.

A key unlocking the door startles me. I gasp for breath, trying to stay silent. Not right now. God, not now.

"I'll be back in an hour, okay? If you want me to pick you up sooner, shoot a text. But I think this is something you have to do alone. It's important for Sebastian."

And then the door closes again. I have no idea who Micah was talking to. Are they still here? I don't hear a thing.

Then, someone is walking through my apartment. I flinch, trying to make myself as small as possible. Please. Oh God, please let them leave.

But no. They enter the kitchen and I know it's only a couple more seconds before—

"Sebastian? Where are you?"

Aaron. I make a choked noise, giving away where I am. He walks around the table with faster footsteps than before. And then I feel his eyes heating up my skin.

I hide my face in my knees tucked to my chest. I can't stand the thought of him seeing me lose it.

He looks from me to the broken bottle next to me. Speechless. A sob breaks through me. I've disappointed him. "I'm sorry."

His scoff is everything I hear before I see him throwing his bag on the table and walking to me with large footsteps. One second passes by, two, and on the third, I'm wrapped in a warm blanket that's Aaron's hug.

"Why would you be sorry? It's your money," he whispers. I shake my head, which moves passes his chest. He doesn't understand.

But instead of explaining, I let myself sink in the comfort of his embrace. Of his ignorance towards the bottle.

Soon enough, my panic get worse and I'm sobbing in his arms like a small child. He's not talking to me like Ada would, not trying to convince me to stay away from all that can make me forget.

Instead, he just brushes through my hair and hugs me closer. I find myself catching my breath and hiding my face in his sweater.

"You don't have to feel sorry," he repeats again. "Everyone has times they wish they could skip."

The fact he's exactly right breaks me again. I'm a sobbing mess in his arms, and I wish I could say I am embarrassed. Instead, it feels okay. It feels okay to just let my tears fall without being scared of disappointment or judgement.

"You know?" I ask, hearing my tears through my voice. I look up at his pretty face and see his blazing blue eyes stare down at me.

He gives a small shrug. "I know the basics, but I'd like to hear your side. I can imagine this isn't very nice for you."

Except for Ada and Micah, whom I've told myself before anyone coulf, and Aiden who knew growing up, no one has ever asked my side of the story. Everyone assumes and with that, treats me horribly.

It's enough for me to start bawling again, but I can catch myself. "It's true. My father killed people. He's in jail for a life sentence now, but when people find out I'm his son, I turn into an exact copy of him in their eyes. It's not fair. They hurt me but they're supposed to hurt him."

He nods and keeps calm. Instead of becoming hysterical, he kisses my temple. "But you're not him. So I don't understand why people must hurt you."

I shake my head. "I don't understand either. I'm related. Maybe I'm the first one they can unleash on."

"You shouldn't be."

Feeling slightly better, I tell him about why DiScenta doesn't like me. I tell him about the four victims of my father, and about his letter. Aaron listens to my whole story.

"Though I understand why Theodore is upset with you, I absolutely don't think he should treat you like shit. Please know that you don't deserve that. As for the visit . . . There's only one person who can decide if you should go, and that's yourself."

That thought makes me wince. When it comes to decisions with my dad, I am absolute shit.

"Can I say something? It's just a thought," he whispers then. I hold my heart and hope for everything that's worth it that this idea doesn't involve us parting ways.

"Your other dad, Dominic, sounded a little frustrated you haven't changed your last name to theirs. You know why? Because they see you as a son, Seb. They have raised you, and they're your real parents. Your father in jail doesn't deserve to have such a great son with the same last name. He absolutely doesn't. Do you understand that, Seb?"

I nod, catching on where he's going. "And with the same name as your real parents, no one will think you're related to him. And if they do find out? They'll see you don't want a thing to do with him."

Promising both him and myself I will think about it, I can finally breathe normally. My sobs have stopped and I'm not panicking anymore. Not because of alcohol or drugs. Not because I fell asleep.

But because I gave myself to Aaron, completely. Everything of mine is his. My sorrow, my happiness, my soul and my heart.

My everything.