Page 43 of The Film Crew


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I should know because he brought my fucking mother.

Biting the inside of my cheek to calm down, I slide into the booth, across from my parents. If I’m going to get through a dinner with these two, then I might as well have the table to act as a makeshift divider.

Facing my mother of my own volition wasn’t supposed to happen until after I’ve earned my master's, but life has other plans for me.

I give my father a questioning glance, and he sips his water.

“You two need to hash this shit out,” he demands, pointing at both of us. “I am so fucking tired of being in the middle of a silent argument that has lasted for years!”

Mother and I both glance at my father in surprise. Tony Shentu never swears, not even when he’s mad.

“Maybe we should settle this for once,” Mother hums in agreement. The tone in her voice comes off as harsh and vile. “An apology is well deserved here.”

I wait for her to make the first move, to utter two words I’ve wanted to hear leave her mouth since I turned eighteen. She doesn’t say a word, and her intense gaze directed at me can only mean…

I blink, baffled by the words that came out of her mouth. “For what? Why would I have to apologize?”

“You know why.” She doesn’t clarify any further, but it’s not like she has to. There she sits, all prim and proper, dressed in a navy blue blouse and beige pants. Expecting me to apologize for what happened only a month ago.

There is Teresa Shentu, with the fucking audacity to have me apologize for something I didn’t even do.

I never thought of myself as short-tempered. But the way my parents stare at me makes my blood boil. I’m not apologizing for my mother’s reckless actions, or why she thought to insult the people I bring into my life—God forbid I do exactly what she did.

All I did was tell her how she had no place in judging what I did with my life, and somehow,I’min the wrong.

“That’s not a good reason,” I respond calmly. “Maybe if you weren’t stalking my friends and me, then we wouldn’t be in this position right now. Did that ever occur to you? You waltz into a diner, insult my…” I’m about to say girlfriend, but then I remember how I completely neglected that conversation. I don’t even know what Carly and I are anymore.

I clear my throat. “My friend, and you didn’t think I would see it? You weren’t trying to be subtle.”

My father’s shocked face conveys his lack of awareness about what happened that night, and he turns to his wife in complete surprise. Her face doesn’t change one bit.

“Most of the diners didn’t notice, but you made a scene of it.”

“Oh, cut the theatrics. There was no scene,” I snort, crossing both arms over my chest and rolling my eyes. “First of all, I’m not like most people. I’m your son.” As much as I hate to say those words right to her face, I can't deny it.

I’m still the boy who grew up with her elaborate yet perfectly hidden disguises and followed suit. I’m still the boy who knew every tic and every twitch. She is half of the person I became, and half of the reason I quit acting. I didn’t choose my parents, but I can choose whether or not to keep them in my life.

“You can stay delusional all you want,” I continue. “But I’m done with that part of my life. I’m happy with where I am and who I’m with. If you can’t accept that, then I think we’re done here.”

I place my napkin on the table and stand up.

“Crew—” My father tries to say, but I cut him off.

“Sorry, Dad. I can’t do this.” And I mean it. This is a two-way street, and if my mother cannot move forward, then I don’t see a reason to continue a relationship with her.

Once I exit the restaurant, I hear footsteps behind me. “Please.”

I turn around to find my dad standing right in front of me. “I have to move forward, and she doesn’t see that. She still can’t, so who knows when?”

He seems resigned to that. “I’m sorry, Crew. I’m just tired of choosing.”

“Dad,” I say to him softly. “I’ve never once asked you to choose. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel that way, but whatever is going on between Mother and me has nothing to do with you.”

My father’s sighs are a little too loud for comfort. “You two have been halves of my world. I don’t want that to be torn apart.”

The way I see it, our family’s been torn apart for the past four years. Dad saw it with his own eyes for the very first time.

“What a family we are, right?” I joke sadly.