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"You will be going to military school, then straight to medical school, you will become a doctor. Is that clear?"
"But father?! That’s 10 more years- that's a lifetime!"
"Neil! You had opportunities that I never had I will not let you just let them burn on a stupid little whim!"
Neil remained silent, his words were replaced with the melancholic ring of the hallway telephone.
Mr Perry grumbled under his breath; glaring at Neil as if he had something to do with the disturbance. Simply, the teen remained in his chair, heart throbbing and face dampening he dried the red forming zig-zags with his coat sleeve. The pair left in the room - miserable mother and saddened son - could barely make out the words being conserved through the line until there was a sharp stab cutting through the line. (' You are talking nonsense! There is no such thing in existence! ')
The rusted ring of the conversation being ended sat thickly in the room. Neil blinked, holding back unshed tears which had not yet helped contribute to the collage on the teen's perfectly sculpted face. His nose felt thick and he sniffled through his disappointment ideas pacing through his head and he tried to tell himself that he was good trying to recite the praise he heard his cast say, he heard the audience say, but never. Not once heard his constantly frustrated, disappointed and severely distant parents say.
"Sweetheart." Thomas Perry said, a waver to his strongly voiced tone. His hands were trembling at his side as he edged over to the window, looking out towards the snow-layered landscape ahead of them.
Meekly, Linda perry answered voice numb and quiet; rather fitting for her dew-eyed appearance: "what is it, darling?"
The next words, Mr Perry so concerned, shook the room, flooded it with questions and worries, flustered hands picking up objects and rushing over to find a suitcase.
Neil continued to sit in the chair, watching his parents manickly wreck the office and living arrangement the man ,who caused his appearance in this world, took vast pride in. The place that never really felt like home. It simply being a place with windows and furnishings and brash conversation over cold dinner and steely evening entertainment (entertainment being Mr and Mrs Perry downstairs alone with Neil nestled in his room forced to study to become the profession he never has wanted).
"God, darn it Neil! Always so good for nothing” Mr Perry barked, shoving a suitcase into the boy's arms ordering him to go upstairs to pack.
Clearly, not knowing the key to his stress were a selection of poetry speaking teenagers plus one mash-potato loving grown up in a phonebox about a street away from his house. Cold bitter air clung to their eyelashes and noses and cheeks turning them rosy and their fingertips as purple as a blueberry. Each of the boys were laughing, practically cackling, at how frightened the man they all despised sounded on the phone.
Two boys looked partially smug, a brunet, sporting the symbol of virility under his shirt and made the phone call deepening his voice to sound like his partner's dad, and a ginger graciously thanking his parents for giving them this information about the dirt the boys used to get their neil back.
A blonde was smiling, heart racing and lips that should have been sweetly kissed and not savagely and worried bitten, frozen like Ice. He leant against the phonebox sighing contentedly that their plan had worked.
"Can you believe Mr Perry got involved in tax fraud?" the glasses wearing boy snorted, fixing his hat further over his ears as his boyfriend's arm wrapped around his shoulders like a scarf
"and dodgy salesmanship!!" The tall teen added, both boys bouncing off each-other with smiles as wide as dinner plates and hearts as light as feathers (hoping and somewhat very much believing it would work)
"I've known Thomas since our schooling days. I'm not at all surprised," the teacher commented, sharing a laugh along with his favourite students. But one thing sat heavily on his mind, whether Neil was okay, was the boy safe? Is this all his fault? Should he have listened to the boring drawl of Mr Nolan and taught the boys their rhyme and metre the boring way with the devilish J. Evans Pritchard PH.D as their guide.
From the smiles surrounding him, he believed he wasn't doing anything wrong. That made him feel at least the slightest bit better about the situation. "Come on boys! We'd better get going if we want to make sure poor neil is alright!"
"Yes o captain my captain" each boy said, nodding. The brunet teen rushed ahead of all of them followed by the others, mr mash potato held up the rear making sure each boy kept their pace ('come on Anderson are you a man or an amoeba' he asked resulting in a yawp from the blonde who ineffably picked up the pace rushing to the front of the huddle along with the saxophone playing brunet)
"Come on, Neil!! Move faster” Mr Perry demanded, shoving his third suitcase filled with clothing and letters that will forever be more important emotionally than his own son.
"Why should I? I'm just going to be shipped off to a military school tomorrow! No point in rushing to pack is there” Neil bit, sticking to it like glue, only movement being from his bouncing leg and teeth gripping his inner cheek.
"Listen here, boy. You have a lot of nerve don't you! You can do what you want when you are older, married with your own children, but I am your father you do as I say. And I am ordering you to go upstairs and pack before I throw it all out of the window into the car. Do you understand?'' Mr Perry said hotly, nostrils flaring as his stern tone bellowed through the room. It rang in Neil's ears and he heard the clattering of jewellery entering a bag, pretty things that exhibited fake value. The teen replied to mr perry with a steely silence hazel tesry eyes glittering in the fractured lighting of his idea of torture.
"Answer me when I am talking to you, neil." He ticked, clicking his tongue as he threw the box of cigarettes into his bag. The family portrait, the lifeless portrait of their broken family with his strict rules and expectations, distance and bonding that was weak and if you squint you could barely see it, remained on the table.
Neil continued not to reply, instead choosing to look at the shattered vase of his mother's favourite flowers, it cracked and splintered near his feet. They had withered days ago, only life being from the silk green of the stem that no longer drank.
"Thomas darling?" Linda perry called from the landing, eyes as wide as saucers and frame as fragile as a leaf in the wind "there are-"
Before she could finish Thomas perry could speak there was a knock at the door. A frantic knock that lasted 30 seconds longer than traditionally required. Neils ears perked up. Hearing the beat, pause, beat beat beat, "come on open the door it's freezing", pause beat, "Mr perry, we know you're there!!" Neil couldn't mistake those voices, the ones he had listened to sob and complain and laugh and share their hopes and dreams one prominent voice rang out the sweet voice from the man he was supposed to kiss and laugh with and ask to be his boyfriend.
"I'll get it, sir, '' Neil said, getting up from his seat. A harsh order not to ring through the study; Neil ignored it pushing past his father and with shaky fingers opening the door.
When he did, he was attacked by arms and cold air and smatterings of platonic affection and friendly smiles and quick words that Neil could barely make out.
"What are you all doing here?" Neil whispered to the group despite himself and how he knew Mr Perry was standing behind him hands on hips and a severe bulge to his brow as his forehead throbbed and his voice carried through the hall telling all of the teens to go, Neil especially thought that he was aiming his words towards his teacher.
"Darling '' Linda threated, pausing at the bottom of the stairs seeing the hoard of boys confusion flooded over her face as she took in the scene. The group holding her boy more than the father ever held the child or even she held him. Her eyes watered at the sight, choking out a "where are we going to go?"
"Somewhere away from here far away!" Perry explained, gritting his teeth and striding towards the teacher, blue eyes bulging with hatred that burned Mr Keating's forehead, but his stare could sharp a hole through concrete. "It was very nice of you to come around John, to bid us goodbye." He sternly snarled, not giving the teacher the pleasantries of a smile.
"Oh-" Mr Keating replied plainly before showing off a sly smile "I believe that it is only you and your beautiful wife I am saying goodbye to Thomas. We are taking Neil with us, however"
A spark entered Neil's head and his eyes widened with remembrance. He quietly mumbled; "hang on" rushing up the stairs passing his mother to his bedroom where a backpack laid. He flicked through it before pulling out some documents which he had messily signatured days after that in Keating's office.
He rushed down the stairs again where Mr Perry was about to push the poets through the doorway. Like usual, his mother sat back and watched.
"O Captain my Captain-"
"Yes, my boy?"
"His name is Mr Keating, Neil!"
"O Captain my Captain" Neil repeated, purely to annoy his father, he presented Mr Keating with the document, the one that he had to blink to make sure he was reading correctly. He would be lying if his mouth hadn't dropped open slightly. The poets whooped and cheered seeing the paper.
Mr Perry stopped and turned, seeing the words in typewriter ink. He threatened to shout and make a row if it wasn't for his wife placing a hand on his shoulder looking at the paper herself. She froze too.
"How long have you had these Neil?" She asked, heartbrokenly were they really that bad of a family that he had signed adoption papers. Her eyes glazed over.
"A few days” he admitted honestly, only responding to his mother, not the surprised words of his father grunting over the idea blaming Mr Keating for all of this. The Perry family's shortcomings.
"Neil" Linda Perry soothed, running her fingers through the curl in Neil's fringe. "Do you really want this?"
As if it were second nature, Neil blinked. Quietly, she asked for a pen. Mr Perry tutted in disbelief shouting at his wife complaining about the sacrifices they had made to have that boy and now she's signing him away.
"I want him to be happy, Mr Perry" she answered coldly, a glint in her eye that never was there, almost life.
Neil turned to hug her burying his head in her shoulder quietly mumbling a thank you.. Thank you so very much. She surprised at first just nodded before stroking his hair "of course, you sweet sweet boy"
Each poet gained a pinch of respect for the woman who shoved the pen into her husband's hand.
"I am not signing it. He is my son not that Bohemians!!" He yelled, chucking the pen down until it ricocheted on the floor.
"Father please-" Neil begged.
"I'll take good care of him, Thomas," Mr Keating replied, clearly already deciding that he would sign the papers needed even without the pen in his hand.
"Neil- don’t ‘father please’ me."
"Just sign it you horrible dick" Todd suddenly spat towards the man which was followed by jeers and cheering from Mr Perry and the poets.
Neil's heart swelled.
There was a beat. Eyes were staring from all directions. Sweat crept up Mr Perry's neck.
"Fine.. Then boy" he sighed, signing his name. His glassy stare locked upon the boy before ushering his wife away, picking up his suitcase and his coat, bashing past the poets and Mr Keating towards the car leaving the poets and Mr Keating in the hall.
Swiftly, Mr Keating asked for the pen before quickly signing the document, arms opening wide for his son to fall into. He did almost instantly red crisscrosses folding from his grinning cheeks and being repainted with the same pale red as Mr Keating stroked the back of his hair. The poets almost instantly joined in, a group hug full of laughs and smiles and warmth blanketing the small hall.
“Yes, this is right” Neil thought, arm wrapping around Todd's waist as the blonde nestled into his side.
His real family.