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SWEET CHILD O' MINE ; CHAPTER TWO
[ season one, episode one ]

Josie had 106 followers on Instagram, and that was including her best friend, Lainey's, multitude of burner accounts. So, in actuality, it was probably closer to 80. When compared to Yasmine's whopping 1,890 followers, it felt like a harsh punch to the gut. It broadcasted to the entire world how little friends she truly had.

But, in all honesty, Josie didn't care all that much. There were much worse things to worry about than a meagre following on a meaningless social media platform. Yasmine wanted to be an influencer after all ── a large amass of followers actually meant something to her. Josie only had the app downloaded so she could stalk people from school, or occasionally scroll through endless strings of random people arguing in comment sections, like whether that dress was blue and black or white and gold.

At the moment, she was flicking through stories. Yasmine's friend, Moon ── she surprisingly followed Josie back ── had posted a video of herself petting a koala bear at a zoo. Cute. In the background of the video, she spotted Sam LaRusso and Yasmine taking selfies and giggling. Not so cute.

Josie tapped the screen again. An elaborate Lego model of Yoda appeared, paired with a caption that read fear is the path to the dark side. It belonged to Demetri's account; resident West Valley nerd. He had talent for strange things. And an obsession with Star Wars.

She ceased her mindless tapping when the front door to the apartment clicked open and her father walked inside. He looked absolutely furious. He slammed the door behind him and threw his car keys on the floor.

"What's wrong?" Josie asked nervously, setting her phone down on the dining table.

"Got fired," said Johnny plainly. He opened the fridge and groaned miserably when he realised there wasn't any more beer left. His lifeline was severed. How was he meant to survive?

Josie gaped at him, her jaw hanging wide. She swallowed thickly and managed to string some words together, "Fired? Why were you fired?"

"Some lady was yelling at me for putting the TV up on the 'wrong wall' and then she went ahead and made a goddamn complaint to my boss for the way I handled things,"

"How did you handle things?" asked Josie.

Her father shrugged, his eyes roving guiltily down to his old frayed sneakers, "I said I'd come back tomorrow, patch the wall up and change the TV around. But wasn't good enough for her. She wanted me to do it today but I didn't have the right stuff. Then she started yapping like an angry chihuahua. So I told her to, y'know, quit bitching at me──"

"You what?" Josie gasped.

"I asked her to do a reasonable thing. She wouldn't zip it."

Josie slammed her forehead against her palm, sighing in exasperation, "Jesus. That isn't a reasonable thing, Dad. She's a paying customer."

"A paying customer who just got me fired," Johnny grumbled.

"I don't even know what to say to you right now."

Her father kicked the fridge shut and gestured to the front door, "How about let's get more beer?"

"Uh, no, you're on a healthy detox remember──"

"Psh. I give up with that crap."

Josie rushed to the front door and planted herself in front of it, crossing her arms over her chest defiantly like a bodyguard barring off the entrance to a nightclub. As if to challenge his approach, she cocked an eyebrow at Johnny ── but he looked so intensely infuriated that she became, admittedly, a little worried he was going to resort to rugby tackling her out of the way.

She stood her ground regardless.

"It's been a day. You can't give up after a day," Josie dictated firmly, "I care about you, Dad. Drinking away your problems isn't going to solve them. You have to do something about it."

Johnny shoved his hands in his pockets and avoided her eyes. He had to know Josie's words bore at least some weight to them, some inkling of truth. He'd spent years and years believing that if he continued to excessively drink, it would somehow make his problems disappear hand-in-hand with his sobriety. He could forget all about the burdens in his life, pretend they never existed.

But that was never the case. If anything, they just got worse.

He exhaled sharply, relenting with reluctance as he raised his hands in surrender, "Fine. But I am getting pizza."

"Pizza from the mini-mart?" Josie quizzed.

"Yeah, where the hell else?"

"Online?" she stated in an unbelievable tone.

Her father's face twisted, and it became apparent in his expression that he was likely questioning himself if he really was being that stupid. She often had that effect on him ── made him feel dumber than he truly was.

Most men his age had at least some comprehension of technology and it's modern day advancements. Johnny was the runt of that knowledgable litter; he had none. He couldn't work a mobile phone to save his life, and he didn't even know what she meant by online. It wasn't like Josie hadn't tried to explain the internet to him dozens of times ── she had. He still couldn't grasp the notion. Computers and phones were certainly not his forte. He did understood how to work a remote, and enjoyed watching the television, though that was where his limits lay. He didn't even read books. She wouldn't be utterly shocked if he couldn't read.

"I'm not eating food off the line," Johnny waved off, grabbing his car keys from the bench in an effort to make it clear the debate was over.

Josie rolled her eyes, "It's online. And fine, if you really want to eat gross old pizza from the mini-mart, be my guest."

"I will," he said stubbornly. He held the door open and gestured outside, where it was becoming increasingly dark as the day progressed to meet dusk, "Are you coming?"

She didn't have much else to do. Her computer was broke so she couldn't binge watch any of the movies that she pirated, and Lainey was currently visiting family in Louisiana and wouldn't be returning to the Valley until the day before school started. Her absence was definitely noted.

Usually, they spent the entirety of summer term hanging out at the beach, or sunbathing in Lainey's back garden whilst drinking mock-tails her mother made for them, or ── as a last resort ── begging either Johnny or Lainey's parents to take them to the mall. It was usually the latter. Johnny tried not to leave the apartment any more than what was necessary.

For the last few weeks, Josie had done nothing even remotely interesting. A trip to the mini-mart was better than nothing.

She nodded, "Sure. But only if you'll buy me some more of those cheap paints."

"Why? You have a ton of paints. They're all over the goddamn house."

Josie levelled him with an accusatory glare, "Actually, I think you're mistaking those for your stupid Coors bottles."

"Y'know what?" Johnny interjected exasperatedly, "I'm not even gonna argue. Let's go."

"Yup. That's 'cause you know I'm right."

"Whatever."

When Josie was much younger, she loved the feeling of being lost. It came as a cheap thrill.

At just three years old, she founded an infuriating habit of running away from her mother during trips to the store. She would wander off and seek out the clothes isle, wedging her small body between the racks of coats and sweaters to completely shroud herself from view. The adrenaline it served was addictive. She remembered the gentle caress of fabric grazing against her face, and the wild thumping of her heart when she realised she was utterly alone.

She could indistinctly remember the tinny voice speaking over the tannoy, ordering anyone in the store to return Josie to the front desk if she was found. That only fuelled her fire. Knowing there were people looking for her, mom included, gave Josie further reason to hide. She loved it.

She'd stick her head out from between the clothes and watch, giggling mischievously, as the workers all ran around the shop floor like headless chickens in an effort to find her. They had no idea she was standing right there.

But it was her mother who usually found her, with palpable relief and vivid humiliation. Josie always had a love-hate relationship with that part. The main intention behind her nonsensical Houdini act was to coerce her mother into searching for her, to draw the woman's attention away from anything else and solely to Josie's existence.

She wanted to be in the spotlight, just for a while. It was bright and warm, radiant like the sun, and little Josie relished in it.

When she was found, however, that warmth from the spotlight dulled. The fun was leeched away. Her mother would hiss in her face scoldingly, grasp her wrist with those cold, bony fingers of hers and yank her back to the car outside. Then, when they got home, it all went back to how it was ── unbearably quiet. Like Josie wasn't even there. Like she didn't exist.

So, as habit was, on their next trip to the store she hid all over again.

But after a few weeks, her Houdini act became predictable. Her mother stopped bothering to tell the workers to make announcements over the tannoy. Instead, she would wait a while and let Josie indulge her cheap thrill; the councillors said there was less rebellion that way. Sometimes you had to let children get what they wanted, but not so much that it could inspire ill-nature and discourteousness. With that in mind, her mom habitually came to find her in the same place she always hid ── in the clothes aisle, tucked between the abundance of coats that provided more comfort than her arms ever would.

It was a cry for attention. A cry that was heedlessly ignored.

"Josie?" a voice urged, snapping her out of her daydream. Josie glanced up to see her father watching her intently, his eyebrows furrowed in concern, "You alright?"

She nodded quickly, "Yeah. I'm fine."

Before he could say another word, Josie shoved the box of cheap acrylic paints in his hand and turned to discern the assortment of gums. The man behind the counter cleared his throat vehemently.

He had been side-eyeing them for the last five minutes, and Josie didn't blame him for his impatience in the slightest. Her dad was taking his sweet time trying to pick the best looking pizza slice on the counter. They all looked inedible; the cheese flat and congealed on the dough as if a truck had rolled over it several times. She advised him to have a granola bar instead, or a bowl of salad, but he refused.

"That one," he said eventually, prodding the glass.

Begrudgingly, the cashier stuck his hand inside of the cabinet and grabbed the pizza slice Johnny had selected with his bare hands. Josie pursed her lips. That was beyond unhygienic. Who knew where his hands had been? All men had a tendency to scratch . . . the wrong places.

The door suddenly opened, and a gust of humid air rushed inside. Josie glanced over her shoulder to see the new customer was none other than new neighbour Miguel, clad in a red hoodie and sporting a sheepish expression.

"Hey, it's Miguel from 109!" Josie exclaimed, lifting her hand in a timid wave.

He returned the gesture, "Oh, hey Josie with the karate-dad."

Their conversation did not go beyond that. Miguel asked the cashier a question in Spanish, and then followed his instructions to an aisle near the back of the mini-mart. When he returned to the front, Josie quickly realised why he looked so embarrassed ── a bright-pink bottle of Pepto-Bismol was clutched in his hand.

She raised a brow, fighting to keep the humoured smirk from her face, "Not feeling well?"

Miguel sighed and lowered his gaze to the pink bottle, "No, uh, my grandma isn't."

"That sucks," Josie mused.

"C'mon, what's Spanish for "Just give me my damn slice?" Johnny grumbled vexingly, watching the cashier rifle under the counter for a plate to put the pizza slice on ── which was currently flopping around in his hand.

The cashier rolled his eyes and looked at Miguel. With a chuckle, he muttered something Spanish in a mocking tone that left little to the imagination, and Miguel couldn't help but laugh at whatever it was he said.

Any reasonable person would take it with a pinch of salt and walk away. But her dad wasn't reasonable, and he wasn't a normal person. His eyes narrowed to slits, "What did you just say?"

"Just leave it, Dad," Josie demanded.

"No, I know it was something bad," he replied. He turned on Miguel, and the boy visibly shrunk in the spotlight of his tempestuous gaze, "What did he say? Tell me."

"Uh," Miguel scratched his brow awkwardly, "He said you have a . . . a tiny──"

Wordlessly, he gestured to Johnny's mid-region, which could only mean one thing.

"He said I have a tiny wang? Tell him he has a tiny wang."

The cashier clicked his tongue in annoyance, "I speak English, asshole."

Josie saw her father opening his mouth as if to respond to that in his typical according way ━ via insults or highly offensive remarks ━ and quickly interjected. She swerved in front of her dad and pushed him back gently, giving him a pointed 'don't be a dick' look.

"Just ignore him," she told the cashier, "He doesn't get out much."

Without waiting for a response, Josie snatched the money out Johnny's hand and placed it on the counter. Then, she bid Miguel a quick goodbye and walked out of the store, with her dad reluctantly lugging behind.

In the parking lot, there was a modified car glinting neon LED lights and blaring loud hip-music music. Josie squinted ━ it looked familiar. She racked her brain for answers, and then it came to her. That was Kyler Park's car. She'd seen it stationed in the school parking lot numerous times, sticking out like a sore thumb.

Josie swore under her breath and whipped her head around in search for somewhere to hide. No doubt they would recognise her. Kyler made it his life's goal to torment people who were lower in the Pecking Order than him.

With no other choice, she ducked behind a trash can. The thrumming music from the car suddenly cut off, and she heard them all jump out onto the asphalt, bellowing and clamouring and howling with laughter. Her heart clenched.

"Josie, what the hell are you doing?" Johnny questioned, his mouth full of half-chewed pizza as he gazed down at her crouched on the floor.

"Shush!" she hissed at him.

He rolled his eyes and sat down on the kerb, picking the mushrooms off his pizza. Thank God. Sometimes it paid off having a father who wasn't utterly concerned over every thing you did. He didn't question her intentions. Most of the time, Johnny just let her do her own thing.

Fortunately, Kyler and his goons swiftly passed, talking about beer and girls and puffing on their vapes as they went. The bell to the mini-mart jangled, and their voices dulled to insignificance.

Josie shot up from behind the trash can like a rocket, "Alright. Let's go."

"I'm eating," her dad argued, "Wait a minute."

"You can eat in the car, come on."

He shrugged away from the bejewelled hand that reached for his shoulder, "Can you just leave me in peace for a second? I've had a shitty day."

"Fine," Josie snarled. She glanced at the door to the mini-mart warily, silently praying Kyler and his friends didn't appear through it any time soon, "Can I have the keys, then?"

Johnny snorted mirthfully, "There is no way in hell I'm letting you drive my car."

"I'm not going to drive it, I'm going to sit in it while I wait for you."

Hesitantly, Johnny reached into the back pocket of his frayed jeans and grabbed the keys to the Pontiac. He handed them to Josie.

"I mean it, don't you dare think about taking it for a spin," Johnny reiterated firmly, pointing a pizza sauce-coated finger at her.

Josie merely gave him a thumbs up and sprinted to the car. She threw herself into the passenger side, sliding her body down the leather seat as far down as she could so Kyler wouldn't be able to see her through the window. Her father wasn't the nicest man ━ no doubt he'd say something incriminating that would only reflect back on her at school. The last thing she needed was more tormenting. She already had enough as it was.

A few moments later, the shop door burst open and Miguel stumbled out, struggling to catch his own footing. Pursuing him was Kyler and his goons, all looking equally as vexed as the other.

Josie carefully lowered the window an inch, peering through it.

"Why did you blow up our spot like that!"

"I didn't know you guys were trying to buy beer. I'm sorry!" Miguel pleaded.

He was shoved to the ground by Kyler, rolling over a bush and landing harshly on his side. The boys surrounded him like hyenas to a fresh carcass, with an animalistic rage glinting in their eyes. They noticed the vibrant pink bottle of Pepto in Miguel's hand, and that became their note of torment. Brucks, the largest of Kyler's friends, snatched it from Miguel's hands and handed it to the ring leader.

"Oh, man," Brucks drawled, "Looks like someone has diarrhoea! Maybe we should call him 'Rhea!"

Seriously? It was a real wonder why so many people were scared of these guys.

"Come on, it's for my grandma!" Miguel whined, trying to take it back.

With ease, Kyler pushed him away as a hand would to a fly, and discreetly unscrewed the lid, "Oh, it's for your grandma? Shit, I'm sorry, man. You want it?"

"Yeah━"

Miguel's words were drowned out by the flood of upturned pink liquid gushing over his head. Josie audibly gasped, looking pleadingly to her father sitting on the kerb as if he was going to help. But his back was turned to the chaos. He pretended not to notice. Ignorance was bliss.

Kyler threw the now-empty bottle of Pepto at Miguel's chest, "Bitch."

When it seemed the altercation was over, as Kyler's friends slowly tracked toward the car, Miguel opened his mouth, "Asshole."

Josie didn't have a chance to silently celebrate someone standing up to the schools most notorious gang of bullies. They turned on him dangerously, and Kyler rolled his shoulders back, looking more and more infuriated by the second.

He levelled Miguel with a glare, "What'd you say?"

"I ━ I didn't say anything."

Kyler responded by serving a sucker-punch to Miguel's stomach. The force knocked the wind from Miguel's lungs, and he buckled over on the ground, coughing and gasping for breath. Finally, Josie's father looked. There was avid concern etched into his expression. Would he do anything? He usually loved getting into altercations and fights.

Even Josie was twitching to open the car door. Her fingers ghosted the handle, her jaw clenched in fury.

"That's brute, Ky!" Brucks chortled.

"Oh, no, he's going to cry!" teased another.

Miguel managed to find his footing again, and he took off at a sprint in the direction of Johnny's car. Blinded by the uprooted Pepto in his eyes, however, Miguel ran directly into the bonnet of Johnny's Pontiac, flopping over it like a rag doll. He groaned in pain and looked up ━ and his eyes immediately snagged on Josie's.

She was like a deer in headlights. Shit. He'd seen her now, she couldn't just sit there.

Hesitantly, she pushed open the door and rushed to Miguel's aid. There was thick pink liquid all over his clothes, his face, and her dad's car.

"Shit, are you okay?" she asked lowly.

Miguel winced, clutching his stomach, "Oh, yeah. Dandy, thanks for asking."

Behind them, Kyler and his friends were pointing at the duo, whispering between themselves, "Yo, look, doesn't she got to our school?"

"Oh, yeah! She's friends with those freaks."

"Hey, Blondie!" Kyler exclaimed, smirking deviously, "You got a fetish for freaks or somethin'?"

His friends snickered in unison. Scowling, Josie flipped him the bird, "Eat shit, asshole."

"Watch your mouth," Kyler snapped, taking numerous precarious steps toward them.

"Or what?" she challenged boldly.

Kyler let out a dry laugh, "You wanna end up like 'Rhea?"

"Hey!" Josie's father bellowed all of a sudden. He jumped up from the kerb and stepped between them, "Leave the dorks alone."

Brucks' eyes flicked over Johnny with severe judgment, "Who's this guy?"

"He's a loser. Eating his dinner at the mini-mart like a bum," another chirped in.

Josie's fists clenched on their own accord. Insulting her family was a low blow, a harsh kick to the teeth ━ though she wasn't actually sure if they knew Johnny was her father. They looked somewhat similar, mostly in the mouth region, with the same teeth; same smile. But to an ignorant clan of bullies like these, similarities as such went beyond their cognisance. Their attention was drawn solely to anything that stood out, anything they could poke fun at.

"Wait, I think I know him," said Kyler. He pointed a finger at Johnny, a smirk blooming on his mouth, "He's the jerk-off that cleaned my dad's septic tank."

"Oh!" Brucks jabbered, "That explains why he smells like shit!"

Josie released an exasperated sigh, crossing her arms over her chest. Brucks carried 'insults' that would scarcely make a five-year-old proud.

"Trust me, you are pissing off the wrong guy on the wrong day, all right?" said Johnny, stepping dangerously close to Kyler.

The latter didn't find that statement threatening in the slightest, "Oh really?"

He surged forward and slammed his palms against her father's chest. Johnny stumbled back, almost tripping over the kerb. Josie's hands flew to her mouth, and she dashed forward ━ but before she could do anything, her father decided to take matters into his own hands.

His shoe slammed against the side of Kyler's face.

"Oh, my God," Josie blurted.

Like something out of The Last Dragon, her dad bust out an amalgamation of martial-arts moves on the clan of bullies flocking to attack him. It was karate, namely. And it was . . . oddly good. He launched punches and kicked chests, throwing in the occasional sweeping-of-a-leg, and effortlessly threw some of the guys over his shoulder if they got a little too close for comfort. And when Kyler collapsed to the ground after enduring a round-house kick to the face, Josie found herself unable to bite back her laughter.

Who knew her dad had it in him?

Sure, he took a couple hits, but he was undoubtedly the fighter on top.

At one point he was rugby-tackled by Kyler, and they both rolled around on the ground wrestling-style, clipping each other across the jaw with the grooved edges of their knuckles. But it didn't take long for Johnny to gain the advantage. He slithered away from his opponent's grip like a snake and wrapped an arm around his throat, draining the oxygen from Kyler's lungs. It rendered him incapable of fighting back.

"I thought you said he didn't do karate anymore," Miguel murmured, staring at the scene in awe.

Josie raised her shoulders in a shrug, looking equally as ━ if not more ━ awed and nonplussed as Miguel, "Yeah . . . I did."

"Well, I think you misjudged him."

She nodded, swallowing thickly, "I think you're probably right."

The strip mall was suddenly illuminated by blue and red lashing lights, accompanied by the shrill sound of police sirens. Josie's heart plummeted. There was a horde of cop cars piling into the parking lot. One of the deputy's jumped out of his vehicle and immediately withdrew a can of pepper-spray from his belt, his other hand hovering warily over the taser beside it. Fortunately, he opted to use the less-lethal weapon.

"Step away from the kids!" he ordered.

Johnny didn't have time to explain himself ━ he was sprayed in the face.

"Hey, that's my dad!" Josie squealed, running to him. He was kneeling on the ground, clawing at his eyes as he gritted out profanities from between clenched teeth.

The cop's eyes narrowed, "He's your father?"

"Yes!" she cried.

Johnny blinked up at her through watering, red-rimmed eyes. He looked shameful. She rolled her lips into a reassuring smile, but it didn't do much other than amplify the guilt radiating across her father's expression.

Miguel and the others were ushered away. Some of the other police officers questioned Kyler and his bully-counterparts, scrawling things down in their notepads, but they were quickly dismissed.

As he punched his car into start, Kyler glared through the windscreen at Josie. He had newfound knowledge of her relations to the man who had beaten him ━ the man he initially assumed to be homeless ━ and his disdain for her visibly grew. Her dad was responsible. She was never going to live this down. His ego had been critically wounded, and God knew Kyler wasn't going to take that with a pinch of salt.

A female police officer with round brown eyes and thin lips placed her hand on Josie's shoulder as another deputy cuffed her father's hands.

"Do you have any relatives we can contact, sweetheart?" she asked kindly.

Josie scowled at her, not bothering to reserve her fury for the people who truly deserved it, "He didn't do anything wrong. He was defending someone. You can't arrest him for that."

"I'm afraid your dad has to be taken to the station. It's mandatory," the officer explained, "He has assaulted a number of minors."

"No, he gave a bunch of bullies exactly what they deserved."

"Miss━"

Josie angrily swatted her hand away, "Just call whoever you want. I don't care."

A few hours later, cooped up in the station with a luke-warm hot chocolate clasped between her hands and her phone propped up on her knees as she watched a YouTuber do a haul of products they bought at Sephora, Josie internally cursed herself for giving the officers a choice in the matter of a temporary guardian. When she saw who it was walk through the doors, she prayed the ground would swallow her whole.

Of all the people they could've possibly called to collect her, it had to be Sid.

Johnny's cruel stepfather.

"Ha! Your daddy in trouble again?" was the man's insensitive choice of greeting. He scoffed vehemently, stumbling into the threshold of the station, "Doesn't surprise me. What a schmuck, eh? He's a waste of space if ever saw one!"

Josie exhaled sharply, "Hello, Sid."

Traipsing behind Sid was his reluctant carer, Rhonda. She had to tend to him on a daily basis to make sure his heart didn't suddenly give in, and take extra measures to stop his blood pressure spiking out of control. Josie had never felt more sympathetic for someone in her entire life ━ other than her grandmother of course, considering the poor woman had been married to him before her untimely death.

Sid snatched some papers out of the receptionist's hands, "If it weren't for me, your daddy would be spending God knows how long in here. Who'd you have then, hm? Mommy in New York . . . Daddy locked in a cell . . ." He tutted unsympathetically, "A goddamn joke, is what it is."

Josie rolled her eyes.

Sid's words didn't affect her. He did everything he could to insult people, to chew right down to the bone, but she just brushed him off. Her dad told her that people who weren't happy with their life always went out of their way to make other peoples' lives a misery, just to give themselves a temporary kick of joy. Sid was an example of that. Even though he had money, he still wasn't happy. Nothing would ever make him happy. He was callous through and through ━ always had been, always would be.

The receptionist pointed at a blank spot on the documents, "If you just sign here━"

"Hell I know! You think I'm blind?" Sid barked.

She immediately shook her head and shrunk away. Best not to prod the bear.

"Now, you know, Josie," Sid continued his ramblings, his tone much gentler now. He glanced at her over his shoulder, his entire body trembling with overexertion from having to walk more than two steps, "some people have money. Some people don't. It's a very precious thing. You use it to get what you want, when you want. But anyone with a brain would know not to spend a dime of it on a man like your dad. Just a waste . . . He doesn't deserve anything I give him."

"So you're saying you don't have a brain, then?" Josie retorted.

Realising she'd twisted his words to spite him, Sid's wrinkled face dropped. He shook his head in disbelief, "You want to try and be more thankful, missy. I'm the one bailing him out. Again. You wanna end up like him?"

"Dunno. Maybe I do." Josie said bitterly. She wouldn't give him the pleasure of belittling her own father in any way.

"That's a shame. 'Cause I won't be extending the courtesy of bailing you out of jail in the future."

A saccharine smile was tossed his way, "Thanks. I didn't want your pity anyway."

Once the papers were signed and the advocation for Johnny's bail to happen first thing in the morning was approved, Josie had no choice but to follow Sid back to his mansion in Encino.

She ran upstairs the moment they arrived and curled up in the four-posted bed her grandmother once slept in, surrounded by elaborate paintings of rose gardens and acrylic depictions of ancient Greece. She never met her grandma, but Johnny always said Josie was similar to her in ways he couldn't understand ━ not only in hair colour but her disposition too. Sometimes she reminded him so much of his mother that he would grow melancholic, and then he'd walk away so Josie wouldn't see his eyes shining with unshed tears.

Even a grown man could want his mother. It was human nature to desire motherly love.

As she closed her eyes and begged for sleep to come, Josie imagined what that felt like.

━━━━━━━━━━

AUTHORS NOTE !

happy monday!

i love josie with all my heart.
that's it. that's the tweet.