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Someone had been calling Riven.
Constantly.
Incessantly.
Every single day, around noon, his phone would begin ringing. Always the same number. Always at the same time.
Riven was never a phone call person, frankly he found phone calls exhausting. They were a time sink and forced him through pleasantries. Anything that can be said in a phone call could be said faster and clearer through text.
Riven got random calls that he preferred to ignore. People misdialing, and more recently, random assholes who saw him on tv and somehow got his phone number. So he refused to answer any phone number he didn't recognize.
He hoped the jackass blowing his phone would take the fucking hint when he pointedly ignored them for the past three days, but clearly people smart enough to pick up on the most obvious of cues were a dying breed.
He was having a very delightful lunch with his girlfriend. He had made a fairly complicated meal and maybe he was a little proud of himself when his phone went off.
Again.
For the fourth day in a row.
Riven glared at the phone as the call went to voice mail, and it started ringing again.
Fuck it.
Musa slightly looked up as Riven snatched up his phone and pressed the answer button. "Who are you, and what do you want that's so important that you've called me fifty times a day?" Riven asked the mystery caller, more exasperated than angry. "I don't have your number in my phone and this is just getting exhausting."
Musa hissed his name under her breath, annoyed at him for being so rude probably, but it was totally warranted.
Who the fuck incessantly calls a random number after being ignored for multiple days?
Clearly no one worth being polite to.
The voice was high-pitched, nasally, and a bit raspy. It itched just across Riven's memory in a way he couldn't place.
"I see you still take after your father." She said. Short, clipped.
The simple short statement knocked the air out of his lungs and made his blood run cold.
"Excuse you?" Riven demanded, sitting up in his chair. Careful to keep any true upset out of his voice, only leaving anger in its place. “Who do you think you are?”
Musa's fork scraped against her plate.
Of course, he couldn't hide his emotions from Musa.
“Nydia, dear, that’s who I am." She responded, and it was like someone poured a bucket of cold water on his head.
Nydia. That was his mother's name.
Is his mother's name.
It can't be. She wouldn't. She couldn't—
"I don't know anyone by that name," Riven said, voice painfully hollow.
That's why her voice was vaguely familiar, was it? He recognized her voice, and he wish he didn't. He wished nothing about her reminded him of the place he could never quite call home.
Each breath was becoming harder and harder to take, and his chest felt tighter and tighter.
Two arms wrapped around his shoulder and Riven flinched, sucking in a quick breath and snapping his head up to see Musa staring down at him with a concerned expression.
She mouthed something to him, probably asking if he was ok, but he couldn't think long enough to answer. Too focused on—
"You can't pretend you don't know your own mother." The woman's voice responded, and Musa gasped. "I know you still remember me. I still remember you tearing up the drapes to make consumes when you and your brother would play pretend."
That was oddly specific information about him. Oddly specific and very true.
Unless his dad and brother were running to the media with childhood stories about him? That had to be the only explanation. There was no way this could actually be—
"Remember when you got soap in your eye and thought you were going to blind?" The voice asked, with clear humor in its tone. "No matter how many times I'd say you were fine, you continued to worry about it. I had to pretend to cast a healing spell on you."
Riven wanted to hang up. He wanted to hang up, throw his phone under a rock and pretend this conversation never happened. His hand was shaking but he could barely pay attention to it. He could barely pay attention to anything outside of the voice on the other end of the phone.
"I barely knew my mother." The admission was tiny and brittle sounding, and Riven couldn't figure out the reason he said it in the first place.
"Riven," Musa said voice gentle, comfortingly rubbing his shoulder.
Riven tilted his head up to meet Musa's eyes.
Riven was not surprised to see Musa, ever the easy crier, on the verge of tears. Her face was twisted up in clear worry, but the expression was soft and affectionate.
He didn't know what he was hoping to see. He wished he found answers in her gaze.
"Listen son," The voice started, drenched in false sincerity. "I'm sorry that I left when you were so young, but I want to be a part of your life again. Maybe introduce me to that girlfriend of yours?"
Oh.
Oh.
That's what this was all about.
She had seen him on tv. She had seen Musa on tv.
Musa who was famous for helping protect the magical dimension. Musa who was lined up to drop one of the most highly anticipated first albums in the Magix dimension's history. Musa who was a very important person, Musa who had a lot of doors open and connections. Musa who just came into a lot of money from the peace prize the Winx Club as a whole was awarded.
The writing was on the wall and the intentions behind this phone call couldn't be clearer.
Riven felt dizzy.
"I—" He started to say something, anything, but no words came to him.
What was he supposed to say to that?
What was he supposed to say to the woman who only came back into his life because his girlfriend was famous?
Musa took the phone out of his hands, and tears began falling onto his jeans.
He was pretty sure that Musa was yelling at the phone but he wasn't paying attention. His hearing had turned fuzzy as he was pushed back from his own body. Like he was watching a movie like this was someone else's poor excuse for a mother trying to weasel her way back into their life once they're worth something to her. Like none of this was real.
But, it was real, and he's dissociating. Which really doesn't help his situation, but he couldn't feel the tears falling down his face so it was fine by him.
Musa's shouting had gone silent, and soon her arms were wrapped around him.
"I blocked her number, and told her to fuck off forever," Musa whispered comfortingly into his hair as she held him. "I don't think she'll call back." She held him tighter. "It's ok now. You're ok."
The dam broke and sniffles became sobs, as the full force of the interaction came barreling down on him.
"I can't believe this." Riven stuttered out between gasping sobs. "I can't—I can't— I can't—"
I can't believe she could do this, she would do this, is what he wanted to say. But he could. He could very easily believe that she'd do this. It was in keeping with everything he knew about her.
And somehow that hurt more.
"Shhh, shhh sweetie. I know, I know." Musa's soft voice and warm hug kept him as grounded as he could be as wave after wave of emotion hit him.
Riven pulled Musa around the kitchen chair, into his lap, where he could pull her close to his chest. Her only reaction was to kiss him softly on the cheek.
"You didn't deserve that. She's a terrible mother." Musa said while running her hand through his hair, and he sobbed harder.
Years of hatred and fear of abandonment coiling in his chest, making its new home at the front of his mind.
So he held on to Musa, and he sobbed, and sobbed, safe to pick up the pieces of his childhood in her loving arms.