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“Hey, Ma- Where’s dad?”
Dee dropped onto the chair placed next to the table. Heavy sat happily next to him, holding two envelopes – both addressed to their parents, both coming from the same place.
“I think he’s in his office, why?” Victoria asked, closing the fridge and turning her head towards her children. Seeing the envelopes, she raised her eyebrows. “Is it from the school?”
“Yeah!”, Heavy replied quickly, smiling whilst doing so. “Those are our grade reports, just like three months ago, remember? It’s actual grades now, the other ones were like target grades or something. Like what we are predicted to get…” the younger brother trailed off when their mother started opening Heavy’s report.
“Mhm,” Dee commented when she was reading through it. “I’m actually quite proud of you this year, Heavy.” Hearing that, the younger smiled even more widely, if that was possible. “I’m glad I could help you improve in some subjects.”
“And I’m glad you did, Dee,” Victoria said, a smile tugging on her lips as well. “Heavy, you got a B in math.”
Heavy cheered, throwing his arms to the air, to which Dee responded with a gentle chuckle. Their mother started opening the second envelope as her youngest son celebrated. “Dad’s gunna be so prooouud!”
“I’m certain he is.” Victoria said. She started reading through Dee’s report as the two engaged in a conversation about the lessons; Heavy and his maths teacher hated each other mutually and therefore, he couldn’t ask her for help climbing up from a D upwards – the only logical solution was to ask Dee for help. He was happy, since it clearly paid off. Victoria furrowed her eyebrows. “Hey, Dee, your predicted grade from maths was an A, right?”
Dee looked up at his mother, confused. He blinked. “Yes, why?”
“It worsened. You have a C.” she deadpanned.
Silence.
“What?” Dee’s smile faded, replaying the words in his head over and over again. He got a C. Clearly, she was just messing with him – she had to. “You’re joking, right? Tell me you’re joking, Ma. Ma?”
Victoria showed Dee the results – he was quick to snatch them away from her hands and reread the one line non-stop for a full minute.
Mathematics. Predicted grade; A. Actual grade; C.
He felt sick.
“It has to be a mistake. No, it’s not real. It’s a mistake, I- I need to- I need to talk with the teachers-“ he blabbered, Heavy and Victoria looking at him wide eyed. Best student for the entirety of his life- the top of his classes, got a C in maths? What? “It can’t be true,” his voice started to break.
“Hey- Dee-“ Victoria started, “Hey, don’t worry, eh? It’s just maths, who the fuck cares about maths these days?” she tried to reassure him that it was okay, but it did not help the situation whatsoever; on the contrary, it seemed to make it even worse.
“I do!” Dee exclaimed, looking at her again, tears clearly visible in his eyes. Victoria, nor Heavy, have ever seen him like this; he never cried, his emotions masked by a bored expression pretty much all the time. He never showed sadness, or anger, or disappointment to this extent, especially not in front of them. “I care! And dad does too!”
Victoria haven’t caught up to this emphasis on the word dad, but the next thing she did catch up on was her eldest son sobbing his eyes out, hiding his face in his arms and putting his head on the table.
He was crying over a decent grade? It wasn’t an A, obviously, but at least it wasn’t an F- Heck, it wasn’t even close to it! It was a pretty good grade!
“Dee, stop crying. Nothing’s happening, it’s okay- A C in maths ain’t the end of the world, is i—Hey, hey, hey!”
****
Glam was sitting in his office, looking through some papers he was yet to start working on. He rocked back and forth, wondering what he should start with; easy stuff first, or last?
Before he was able to make his decision, there was rapid knocking on the door. He was about to say a happy “Come in”, but his guest was much quicker in opening his office, letting natural light in. Although the weather channels said it was going to be sunny, it was the opposite – grey cloud coated the sky, the light much dimmer than he would expect. And in his doorway- his wife, Victoria, breathing heavily as if she was running beforehand.
“Glam, I need your help, quick,” she said urgently. This worried Glam, who immediately stood up from his chair. Considering that none of the children were with her and she- his Vicky- seemed panicked, his parental instinct kicked in.
Are the kids okay?
“What’s happening?” he asked, full seriousness in his tone- quite a scary sound, compared to his usual, creepily cheerful pitch and projection. His voice now seemed lower, more protective in case of danger.
“Dee has a mental breakdown or- something, I don’t know. I can’t get through to him, he accidentally knocked a cup over and smashed it, I’m worried he’s gonna hurt himself,-“ she rambled, Glam analysing all the information given straight away. Dee broke down? Over what? Dee? His son, Dee? This didn’t sound right; this situation was completely out of place, which made him worry even more. What could possibly happen to send his eldest into this state?
He moved quickly and mere seconds later, he was walking alongside Victoria to the kitchen. He breathed heavily, panic slowly starting to rise in him. Constant question ‘What, what, what’ was going through his head and it wouldn’t go away until it was answered.
What happened?
“Dee?” Glam asked when he walked in – the whole scene so miserably depressing, making the older man feel a shiver going down his spine. It was his sons – one crying his heart out, loudly. He either didn’t care or, like Vicky mentioned, wasn’t aware of his surroundings enough to notice. His other son, Heavy, sitting next to his brother, trying to caress his shoulder, calm him down at least a little bit. Glam wanted to help to, God, he wanted to help so bad, from the moment he saw them like this. They should never be in this situation, his poor birds. What hurt them?
However, Glam’s worried tone did not ease the situation – upon hearing his father’s voice, the boy broke down even more, now shaking more than he ever did in his fifteen years long life. In his hand, there was a crumpled piece of paper. On the table there were two envelopes that he quickly recognised; school sent letters home in these. Suddenly, everything clicked.
Reports.
“Victoria, please, would you be so kind and take Heavy upstairs?” Glam asked, quieter this time. He didn’t want to startle Dee by talking loudly- maybe it was his own childhood habits, projecting what he would like to receive as a child into reality – peace and quiet. Calmness. He wouldn’t get anywhere with overwhelming the boy even further; God, if Dee would break down even more because of that, Glam was sure to start crying with him.
His wife nodded and grabbed Heavy gently, ignoring his quiet protests to stay with his brother. Such a sweet child, Glam thought. The world doesn’t deserve him.
Back to Dee.
They were alone in the kitchen now, just the son and his father.
Glam slowly walked over to him and kneeled down. He picked up the remains of the cup from the floor next to Dee’s leg. Thankfully, he was still wearing his boots so he didn’t hurt himself on the sharp pieces. He really didn’t want his son to suffer even more, that would certainly break his heart.
“Dee?” Glam tried again, softer this time. He sat next to him, where Heavy was sitting moments ago. His voice was delicate, like he was afraid that if he spoke louder, Dee would close himself in his world and never come back to his father. “Dee, please, tell me- what happened?”
Lack of other people seemed to work – Dee has slightly loosen up, his sobs sporicidal, not as loud as before. Glam let Dee take his time, rushing him wouldn’t bring any positive effects- negative ones would be much more probable. Glam hated being rushed; being pushed to answer by anyone was emotionally draining for him, only thinking about situations like this sending him to the verge of a panic attack.
“I-“ Dee started, Glam immediately looking at him. There was nothing but honest worry in his eyes, their usual eeriness replaced with true emotion behind them. He didn’t tend to show this side of himself to anyone except for Ches or, much rarely, Victoria. “I’m-“
“Hey, Dee, it’s okay,” Glam continued using his quiet, peaceful tone. “It’s okay, take your time, alright?”
“I’m- I’m s-sorry, Dad,” Dee stuttered, another first. Glam watched him as he raised his face up- crying eyes already red and puffy. “I-I am so, so sorry- I disappointed you-“
“Dee- What? Why would you say that?”
“I got- a bad grade in Math,” more tears continued their way down his cheeks. “I was supposed to get an A—I didn’t, I failed you, I’m a shame-“
“Dee, no.” for the first time, Glam interrupted him. He didn’t raise his voice, though. “Don’t ever, ever say that. You’re not a shame because you didn’t get a grade you expected to get. It’s normal,” he continued, looking at him. “Why don’t we go through the report together, hm? Reflect on the year, so I know where you need help in the next one?” The questions were calm, offering. Dee looked up at him shyly.
“But-“, he started. Glam would normally reply with ‘no buts’, but it was unnecessary. His child needed someone to listen to his needs, not someone to assume what they are and go from there. “But you never- I never needed your help in- in any subject,” he looked down at his shaking hands.
“Maybe I should assist you from time to time?” Glam smiled slightly. Not too much, not too little- just an honest smile. “You’re a bright kid, Dee- You pick up stuff so easily and I’m really proud of you- Though, it’s not a bad thing to struggle with some things, you know? Sometimes you just need a helping hand.”
“It’s easy for you to say,” Dee grumbled, making Glam tilt his head to the side and furrow his eyebrows in confusion. “You- You’re good at everything, dad, I- I just want to be as good as you-“
“Hey, Dee, let me tell you something, huh?” Glam grabbed his son’s hand reassuringly. He wanted Dee to know that he is here, that he is not mad, that he is proud – and actions speak better than words, especially when the other person doubts their self-worth whilst being on a verge of a mental breakdown. “I’m not good at everything I try. You know how I play the guitar?” he asked, Dee nodding and giving him a little ‘mhm’ in response. They made eye contact- Dee’s gaze unsure. “I’m not a natural. If it wasn’t for your uncle Ches, I would have never tried it.”
“But you said that you were a musician your whole life?” Dee seemed to relax a bit- his shoulders and fingers were not as tense as before, he also let go of his school report, placing it onto the table.
“Yeah, to some degree. I started with a violin and even then I wasn’t perfect. It was alright, good even, but I thought of it as never enough.” Dee furrowed his brows. “My father used to ‘teach me’ how to play it” whilst referring to his father’s teaching, Glam used his fingers to create quotation marks in the air. His relaxed facial expression started to fade, replaced with a frown. However, Dee knew that it wasn’t about him – Glam was uncomfortable talking about this- clearly, since he never mentioned his childhood except for little stories about Ches. Never his actual, blood-related family. “It- He wasn’t a really good teacher, though.” he looked away. “He was never there for me to actually teach, more like be there to catch any mistakes and give punishment for making them. Made me hate the violin for quite a bit, haha,” he chuckled, initial response to traumatic memories. Realise you said something depressing, make the situation seem light-hearted, move on.
Only now, he couldn’t move on. He needed to continue in order to get to the point.
“Then Ches came along. He- He helped me find love for music again and he was the one that actually showed me how to play, he didn’t just give me the guitar, grab a-“ a pause. “Didn’t get angry at me for making mistakes and actually gave me feedback.” he looked at Dee again, coming back to the honest smile. “What I’m trying to say, even though your teachers may have lots of experience, their ways of teaching might not be for everyone. Even if it worked out for you in the beginning, you have the right to feel overwhelmed when you don’t understand something and you don’t get feedback.”
Dee stayed silent for a couple of moments. He then uncrumpled the report that he previously set on the table and put in front of his dad. Glam looked at his grades, reading through his predictions and looking at the actual ones. He moved his hand to Dee’s back, patting it.
“Your grades are really good, you know? I’m really proud of you, Dee,” he stated. Dee, hearing these words, felt tears coming up again. “It’s only the maths that dropped. Do you recall what you didn’t understand?”
“Yeah, I- I struggled with calculus a bit,” Dee supported his head on his hand, putting the elbow on the table. He was facing Glam, which made him happy- Dee felt more comfortable! It positively contrasted to how he was only minutes ago, Glam’s voice alone sending him further into panic. “And trig. Slightly, I- I don’t need loads of help on that, just a bit-“
“Hey, even if you need more help with something, you don’t have to be ashamed of it, okay? I’m here to help you, remember?” Dee looked at him and realising that Glam is not mad whatsoever, he smiled back.
“Yeah.”
“Do you still have your maths books? Why don’t we go through them together?”
“Sounds good. Thank you, Dad, I- It really means a lot to me.”
“Anytime, Dee. Do you want to work in your room? We could also tell Vicky and Heavy that we’re okay, I bet they’re worried.”
“Sure, Dad.”