Micky hurried off to the park, having snuck out through his window. He kept his fingers crossed the entire time, silently praying that Mike would actually show up.

He didn't have to wait long.

He'd been at the park for less than five minutes when a tall, lean figure stepped out from the shadows. Michael smiled.

"Thank you for comin'."

"What do you know about my father?" Micky was blunt, straight to the point. He was scared, and wanted to get home as soon as possible.

"You're direct. I like that." Michael grinned. It looked eerie in the moonlight and Micky felt goosebumps rise on his skin, despite the long-sleeved shirt he wore.

"Well?"

"Micky..." Michael took a step closer and Micky took a shaky step back. The grin on Michael's face only seemed to grow. "Your father ain't the perfect man you think he is."

"Wh-What do you mean?" Micky's voice shook, but he couldn't do anything to stop it. He silently swore at himself.

Michael shrugged. "I suppose there's no point in beatin' 'round the bush. He had an affair."

Micky gasped. Those words were like a slap in the face and he flinched, before feebly attempting to defend the man he'd looked up to his entire life. "What? No...that's impossible! My father would never—"

"But he did, Micky. It was a long time ago—you were only a year or two old and I myself was only a small child. But I was old enough to remember him comin' 'round the house. He was bold...came 'round a lot, didn't seem to care 'bout gettin' caught."

Micky's throat suddenly felt drier than the Sahara desert and he swallowed, before licking his chapped lips. "You mean...the affair...it was with your mother? Is that why she's never around?"

Michael laughed. "Are you kiddin'? My mother died in childbirth, Micky."

"Then wha—" Micky gasped. His eyes widened as realization began to sink in.

"Your father's affair...was with my father."