Ugh. Reality slithered back in, making my head spin and my emotions churn. I’d wanted to stay with Ollie, to bask in the afterglow for a while.
I need more of you, Ollie Lovell…
With a quick shower and an outfit change into some comfy jeans and sweater, I left my room to knock on my brother’s door. But the chime of anemail notification and the shrill cry of a phone call stopped me.
I held up the device, hoping to see Helen’s name on the screen. Instead, my brother’s name flashed there for the first time since Christmas.
Adopted brother…
“David?” I answered.
“Mum and Dad want to talk,”he responded curtly. No ‘how are you?’ or any hint of kindness.
It got my back up. “That’s nice,” I answered sniffily. “I’m kind of busy right now.”
“Being The Sun.”
“Yes.”
His sigh sent a crackle down the line.“They’re sorry they never told you. How could they? No one ever expected your kind to return.”
“My kind?”
“You know what I mean.”
David. The guy with many opinions, especially when it came to my sexuality, my job, and my whole life in general. And it wasn’t just him, but my parents too. Always happy to take money from me, but not happy with me being gay. After years of snide comments, everything came to a head at Christmas, dragged out by the lip-loosening effects of alcohol.
Mum started it with some vile homophobia, then Dad picked up the torch in an attempt to scorch me with shame. He failed because I didn’t feel ashamed of my sexuality. I loved being me.
David thought he’d come in with the finishing blow, spewing some repugnant, bigoted filth at me.
In response, I’d rebutted with, “I can’t believe I share blood with a family of potatoes. What is this? Shit in the mouth that feeds you? Fine. I’m done with you, and you’re done with my money.”
With that trigger pulled, the insults followed, my parents playing victim. Somehow, I was the bad guy, the one they hit with most extreme verbal poison. And I wasn’t made of stone. Wordsdidhurt me, breaking my heart.
I’d been bullied at school, made to feel like dirt, always on the receiving end of some form of bigotry. I’d wanted my family to be the safe space away from the pain. But they weren’t, no matter how much I loved them.
My fame was a fuck you to hate, my money two middle fingers and a shit load of scorn to go with it.
No one got to bully me anymore. No one got to own me or leave me sobbing myself to sleep every night. I’d come too far, endured too much to let anyone get the better of me.
Ollie came down the stairs from the third floor.
“Isaac?”David said.“Are you still there?”
Ollie mouthed if I was alright.
I nodded, so happy to see him. “I’m here,” I responded to my brother.
“Come and see us,”he carried on. “We’re all at the Cheshire house. We need to talk about everything.”
If he was looking for forgiveness, he could forget it. I didn’t have much capacity for forgiving bullshit.
Ollie moved closer to me.
If it wasn’t for me, there wouldn’t be two houses for my parents to move between in Cheshire and Los Angeles.
“I’m busy,” I retorted.
