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Victoria started every day the same, she woke up, brushed her teeth, got dressed, went downstairs, angrily held a conversation with her sons and husband, ate breakfast, went to work at the garage, came home, had a shower, had food, talked to Glam... but this time he wasn't talking.
She was focusing on her phone, which was open on her schedule app, showing the next day's plan (an annoying customer really needed a crashed bike fixed in three days, honestly, Victoria was ready to speed run this just to spite the customer, who was a stuck up bitc-). She then looked up at her husband.
"What happened with tutoring today? You had that short, purple-haired kid right?" she asked, referencing Glam's student who came every other week on a Tuesday.
She waved her phone around, a little fed up without a reply. The blonde wasn't even looking at her (yeah, she likes it when Glam looked at her, big deal, ugh, she hated love, yet was deeply in it). Glam was sitting across from her, having returned from his office from a phone call or something.
"Glam? Glam. Glam. Dude. Holy frick, look at me at least. GLAM."
She knew the guy well enough, I mean, sure she didn't actually know much about him, but she really knew his traits, his habits, his rare emotions. And Victoria was sure that right now he was dissociating.
He tended to do that when the situation was unsafe, or loud, or nothing was happening and he was left to his thoughts without any metal music in the background to distract and ease.
Victoria had read up a little on dissociation and autism, due to being married to Glam himself, but she usually just let whatever happened happen and didn't actually understand much about it. Especially the fact that dissociation is a trauma response.
She let the silence talk and continued adding things to her schedule, texting Anna when she got bored of the middle-aged-women activity (as Victoria puts anything serious or orderly).
The ginger looked up at her husband, noticing him clutching his right wrist tightly, his chipped and painted nails digging into the black wristband that covered his arm. She tilted her head, realizing this situation may be bigger then previously assumed. She was trying to read his face, though he was rare to reveal any true emotion. Something a little deeper could be happening here then Glam simply being tired.
It was then he started shaking - violently, his entire body rapidly showing terror.
"Hey, hey, Glam, hon, hey, I'm here," she never knew what to say in this scenario, only having had it happen less then a handful of times. She walked over to his side of the table, perching beside him.
In this proximity she fully took in his hold of the wrist, the nails on his left hand had drawn blood, the skin lifted over half of each nail, the nail itself pressing into his veins. Her eyes widened in horror.
"Glam. Stop." she spoke firmly, she wasn't a wimp, she was worried, but that had never changed her tone in the past, and it wouldn't now.
He didn't stop though.
She'd positioned herself in front of her husband, his eyes seemingly on her, yet she could tell they weren't actually looking. He was caught in a memory. Or something like that, she really didn't know much about this psychology sh*t.
She hated the blood dripping from under his nails but was so panicked - wasn't there something about brain damage if you wake him - no shoot, that's sleepwalking - Victoria was clueless - she snatched his left hand and pulled it off the right arm forcefully. That seemed to wake him up a little.
"Hey, Glam, Glam?" Victoria looked at him gently, a quality rarely shown in her, but she really did have a soft spot for him.
And he looked at her. Properly. Actual eyes, not dissociating, not even as wide as usual in his false happiness. Normal eyes, still, y'know not ordinary, but good, progressive.
"You with me, man?"
He nodded lightly, shaking still, then-
He hissed suddenly, the pain from his wrist kicking in, he shook it a little, but that didn't seem to help with pain relief.
"Sorry," he said, his voice clear, endearing, still as high as usual but not loud.
"It's okay... you kinda, I don't know... are you okay?" Victoria rubbed the back of her neck, glad that was over. The sky outside was darkening and Victoria remembered Dee was still out. God, could that kid stop being a little punk for a second, she thought to herself, if he's doing drugs he's going to freaking suffer from me...
"I'm okay," Glam replied. That is the issue Victoria always found in him: his walls were too far up and she didn't know how to get them down again. He shut everyone out, letting only positivity remain.
"Eh, really. Is that what you're going with? That you're okay? That's not what the wrist says," Victoria huffed, leaning back in her chair, attempting to keep her voice down a bit as she was aware that Heavy was still in the house (as he should be, unlike Dee), hopefully doing homework (but probably gaming). She wasn't going to worry him by letting him overhear the aftermath of his Dad having an... episode.
Upon hearing Victoria comment on his wrist, Glam looked at it immediately, having already checked that the black wristband was still in place earlier, he checked it over again. He was letting the past die. Anyway, he was sure his family wasn't interested in his past.
"What happened with you then?" Victoria said, as calmly as she could.
Glam hesitated for a few seconds.
"I remembered something..."
"Can you stop speaking in freaking riddles for two seconds!"
"It doesn't matter. The past is far behind me."
"Are you going to tell me?"
"Are you interested?"
He was so sure she wasn't.
She herself was cautious about discussing her own past, barely revealing anything to anyone. She wasn't going to begin double standards in this relationship. But she was also desperate to know Glam's story.
So it came as a sudden shock to Glam when she replied: "Yeah."
"W-What?"
"What was bothering you? I mean... I already know some things about your past. I know you were rich or something," her voice was cracking, "I know you had a family yacht or some sh*t... I know you have a horrid and b*tchy sister," saying it out loud she began to see the flaws in Glam's life a little more, "your dad is dead, right," she confirmed dubiously...
She'd always assumed that Glam had had a rich, normal childhood, maybe he was a little spoiled or something, possibly he was revealed to rock and metal music by his loving parents who wore suits but knew how to let their hair down... and yet she felt like the floor was coming out from under her at the same time, "I was so sure your life was fine as a child... Hell, I even thought you maybe had a better time then I did as a kid," He'd not had a good childhood had he...
"But now the room is spinning while I'm trying to fill in all the gaps."
Glam looked down. Ashamed. He'd made his wife panic. A lot. She was terrified. This was a rare occasion. She was the pinnacle of confidence and yet here she was, hyperventilating in an identical way to how Glam was two minutes prior.
"Darling," he spoke firmly, his high voice removing emotion, as always, "I'm okay. Yes. I was remembering something just then. Yes. It was not what I had planned for today, but I can push something back a little to make time for the occasional sad thought."
Neither of them were sure if he was avoiding the question or just waffling in order to calm down Victoria.
"Do you want to tell me the memory?"
"Only if you're interested,"
"I am."
"Okay then,"