I can't help but feel that my fathers are hiding something from me. What exactly, I don't know. When I bring up certain topics, they'd brush it off or change the topic. I'm not a nosy person usually, but they are topics surrounding  stuff like fathers and other things.

Why?

Why do they act that suspiciously if I say something like, "what were your fathers like?" Or some sh*t like that. Oh, I meant stuff. Father hates swearing, he flinched when Dad sweared as well. Multiple times.  But what I don't get is, talking about fathers is a totally normal thing between family members, so why do they act like it's difficult topic to speak about?

Unless it is.

I blinked. I didn't think I'd ever thought that before. I thought about it for a moment. Well, it would make sense, because of their reactions. I'd asked them why I didn't have a grandfather from either side. They had remained silent and quickly looked at each other. I knew that, logically, I had to have grandfathers even if they didn't want to talk about them. Even if they didn't want to associate with them. And then there was the one time they sang Sincerely Me. The original lyric was 'the only man that I love is my dad' but they never ended up finishing the lyric.

But if bringing their fathers up was a difficult thing to do, why was it? The only clues I had to go on was that Dad had scars dotting his face, and both Father and Dad avoided alcohol like the plague. Their avoidance of the drink was almost as if witnessing it would cause bad memories, but what do I know? I'm just a 14 year old girl who probably doesn't know what they went through if they went through anything. "Emmalyn?"

"Oh Father!" I shouted in surprise, looking up from my bed to see Father's black haired, green eyed figure. He was standing in my door way. Then his green gaze narrowed with guilt and he turned away, as if trying to hide said guilt. Oh, right.

I had walked into the bathroom where I had found him curled up in the fetal position with tears streaming down his face. He had been whispering, calling out to a mother and father. He had been hugging a orange thing, that I saw on his bed sometimes. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe it was an 'attack', I believe that's what it's called. Dad had had a few, I was never in the vicinity, but I had heard both talking. When I found Father in the bathroom, I was terrified. Horrified. I'd never witnessed that before. "Emmalyn," Father said, shaking himself, though he looked conflicted. "I'm taking you to the hospital so we can visit Alder." I nodded and got up off the bed.

When we pulled up into the hospital parking lot, Father remained silent as he got of the car, and I followed him. "Where's Dad's room?" I asked, attempting conversation. Father being silent was making me anxious.

"Just- follow me." His voice was quiet and full of guilt. Why was he so guilty-looking? Was it because of me being horrified at the sight I had seen? Did he never want me to witness that? When we got to the hospital door, Father put on a genuine smile. He was genuinely happy to see his husband. I was led towards Dad's room by Father. Dad was asleep when we arrived. Father pulled out the chair and motioned for me to sit in it, he then remained standing.

"Sully! Papillon!" I looked up when I heard Dad say my nickname. I wondered where the butterfly nickname came from, it was Dad's special nickname for me, but he also called me 'Em' and 'Emma' from time to time. We talked a bit together and Dad listened, practically fanboying when I brought up what exactly the school play is. The roles would've been reversed if my weird school had done a certain other musical instead of this one. A certain musical, that had a certain actor as part of its original cast... Father was merely smiling. "I can see you as either, you have a strong voice."

Dad's words made my cheeks heat up. "D-Dad!" I stammered. Both of my fathers chuckled and left me a blushing mess.

~~~

When we were back in the car, I got out my phone and started texting Timothy, a boy I had a massive crush on, that I tried to hide from my fathers. So they have their secrets, this is mine.

Sup, Timmy! I texted.

Hey! Emma!

I've made up my mind. I'm going to audition. F**k, my heart started racing. I've never sung in front of people. Um, I'm scared though...

Perfectly natural, you're new to this, but, Emma, you're amazing and you're gonna do great!

I blushed and I could've sworn I heard Father chuckle. "Who are you texting Emma~?" I could physically hear the smirk form in his voice. It made my blush darken.

"N-no one," I answered, stammering and silently cursing myself. Father's green gaze took on a knowing light. "J-just a friend." Father let out a questioning sound. His eyes looked nostalgic.

"Really, a 'friend'~?" Father turned to face me and he was clearly smirking. My blush darkened even more. "Are you sure about that?" His voice mimicked the meme. There was a knowing grin on his face. I hate my parents sometimes. Father was clearly teasing me, whether or not he knew about it or not.

"Yes," I answered firmly. Father didn't look convinced but he drove out of the parking lot.