Chapter Text
The clock ticking was the only thing that kept Glam awake at this time of night, that and the sound of the air conditioning in his office. His office was always clean, with guitars held on the wall, a desk in the middle, and a piano to its right. One of his biggest priorities was to keep it clean. He couldn’t fall asleep, not for a while. He knew sleep deprivation wasn’t good for him, of course it wasn’t but his diet made up for that.
“wsup dude1” Ches suddenly texts him.
“Ches, it’s three in the morning; what are you still doing awake?” Glam types out, hitting send. Unlike Ches, grammar really mattered to Glam, even while texting.
“Well, yk brochacho. It’s huckjsrhdccuhs” Ches replies to Glam. Glam’s confused by what ‘huckjsrhdccuhs’ is supposed to mean, but he just ignores it.
“Hru”
“There’s supposed to be a question mark there, Ches.”
“.”
“I’m okay, Ches. Thank you for asking. How are you?” Glam texts back quickly. Ches takes a few moments to send a reply.
“I gud.”
Glam doesn't even know what “gud” is supposed to mean.
“Yk glammy, sometimes the cluck lies to us. What happens next isn’t ur fault but the fauot of teh being that killed u.”
Glam blinks his eyes rapidly looking at the text, what was that even supposed to mean?
“What..?” Glam replies. Ches goes offline. This was probably one of Ches’ drunk ramblings again. He chuckled a little bit, before shutting his phone off.
He looks around his room, too tired to do work, too awake to sleep. Everything seemed to be blurry.
Glam exits his room and heads to the kitchen to make himself some herbal tea to supposedly help him sleep. Glam stifles a yawn as he walks into the kitchen, still in his hello kitty pajamas he doesn’t remember putting on.
“Pap?” His teenage boy sitting at the table, scrolling on his phone, with his blonde curly hair tied up, already ready for school.
“Dee? What are you doing awake at this time?” He questions tilting his head at his son.
“Pap, it’s 8am” Dee replies looking confused.
8am? Glam swore it was just 3- he pulled his phone out of his pocket, and it was in fact eight in the morning. His head feels like it’s about to fall right off his shoulders.
‘Oh.. It is.” He sighed, placing his hand on his forehead. How could he lose track of time like this? He was always the organized one. “Where’s Heavy?”
“He already left for school.” Dee replies quickly, still staring at his phone. Without saying another word, Dee stands up and walks out the door to head to school after shoving his phone in his pocket.
Glam stands there for a moment, a bit stunned; maybe the clock was broken? Clocks can’t lie. It’s a clock, it can break. Why would a clock lie to him? That's absurd. He laughs it off and walks back to his office, attempting to get a few hours of shut eye before his boys come home.
He finds himself in his bedroom, his childhood bedroom. Why is he here? Everything seems a little bit blurry, not blurry enough to the point he couldn’t see. Just enough to notice.
“Sebastian?” He hasn’t heard that name in over twenty years. It hurts more than he could explain. Someone shoots into his room.
“Oh, Sebastian!” A taller woman with the same fluorescent blue eyes, and blonde hair. Except she seemed so forced. Her eyes didn’t have that natural look, and her hair was in a bun. Everything about her screamed “help me” . She's much taller than him, and her voice is soft and smooth like honey.
“Mother?” He questions. He had thought she had passed years ago. Before Gustav.
“You almost missed breakfast!” She exclaims. “You don’t want to upset your father, do you?” She whispers.
“No, of course not Mother.” He says in a more monotone voice. Why was he here? He had left home 23 years ago. He walks down the stairs trying to not make a noise.
“Good morning Father, Mother, Lydia.” He nods slightly as he greets every single one of them. He looks at his mother, she seems the same after all these years. Gustav seems to be blocked in his brain. He can’t make out his face. Lydia sneers at him as he sits down next to her at the dining table. It was short lived so father wouldn’t notice, but she still got the message clear to him.
He hopes this is just some random dream, everything in him does. He knows it’s a nightnamer of sorts. He just can’t get out.
“Play for me, Son.” A serious voice exclaims. Glam doesn’t know if this is his father or someone else. The voice glitches. He’s not at the table anymore. Where was he? Gl- Sebastian couldn’t make out his surroundings, the man, not even himself. Everything is dark, black. The room around him is glitching. Where the hell was he? All he can see is the violin and bow in front of him.
He plays Pagganini’s caprice 24. A difficult piece, but he could do it. The bow has no rosin on it. None. He reaches for rosin. Where is it? WHERE IS IT? The words scream around him. He feels the tears enter his eyes. No, boys don’t cry.
“Play for me son!” The ruler slams against a table he can’t see, causing him to flinch. He begins the piece, but the deprovision of rosin causes it to make awful noises he could only describe as a stray cat yowling.
“Рука!” The voice demanded. Russian? Only his father spoke Russian. Glam extends his arm to cause his sleeve to come up to his shoulder. He knows what happens next. He always did. The fresh blood on his wrist, the scars. It all haunted him. The ruler snaps and-
Glam shot up from his desk. Hyperventilating and sweating. He puts a hand up to his face. His makeup is running
“Glam.” Victoria huffs staring at him. Glam looks at the women in front of him, her orange braid and her freckles. The exasperated look on her face.
“V-Vicky.? What’s w-wrong?” He replied nervously, a cold sweat down his face.
Victoria stares at him, arms crossed and everything. He can’t tell if she's disappointed, worried or a mix of both. “Where have you been? It’s been three days!” She exclaims.
“What?” Glam mumbles. “Three days? What do you mean, Victoria?”
“You’ve been isolating yourself! If you need help, come to me, or Ches! We’re here for you” She continues to shout at him, but he can’t make out the words. It all sounds foreign and-
“I’m sorry, Victoria. I didn't realize how much time had past I-”
“Just be around this time.” She finishes, leaving the room.
Three days? The clock. The clock it’s all the clock's fault! Glam picks up the clock, dashing it on the ground multiple times, stomping on it until the glass shatters and the hands stop moving. The shattered clock on the ground seems to make him feel free, free from his fathers eyes. Free from whatever's happening around him. Time just seemed to stop. He slides against the wall and lets all his tears out for the first time in years.
“Pap?” Heavy says with a concerned tone in his voice. “You’re bleeding.” He states with a foreign seriousness in his voice.
Glam stares at the blood on his arm for a second. His blood. The shattered glass of the clock must have cut him.
“Haha- Oh I must of cut myself.” Glam laughs slightly. “I’ll go clean that up, now.”
Glam walks to him and Vicky's room, and enters the interconnected bathroom. Glam unravels and unties one of the bandanas he always tied around his wrists. One of his old scars must have reopened. He stares at them for a moment. Taking it all in.
“Glam?!” Vicky exclaims, as she enters the bathroom, not expecting to see Glam there.
“Vicky- It’s not what you think!” Glam waves his hands around frantically, trying to convince his wife he hasn’t been doing those things.
“Then what is it?! I told you earlier you could always come to me and Ches but instead you hurt yourself?” Vicky avoids eye contact. She couldn’t bear to see him this way.
Glam doesn’t know how to respond. He’d rather not talk about what happened, he wasn’t ready, not yet. He just stays silent, gripping onto his wrist and holding it to his chest.
“I thought so.” Victoria closes her eyes, and everything stays silent. Just for a moment. “Let me help you with that.” She sighed as she took his wrist from him. She sits him down on the edge of the tub and begins to rummage through the closet above the toilet.
“Where’s the first aid kit, damn it.” Vicky mutters under her breath. Continuing to rummage as Glam closed his eyes tightly trying to forget the whole ordeal. Victoria sighs as she finally finds it, pulling it out of the small cabinet. She stares at the gauze in her hands for a second. Before again taking her husband's wrist and wrapping it around tight, but firm.
“Thank you, Victoria,” Glam murmured. Avoiding eye contact.
“You’re welcome, Glam.” She replies, holding his shoulders. “Please, don’t do that to yourself.” She gives him a soft look. Rare for Victoria herself.
“Oh, don’t worry Vicky. I won’t!” He shifts uncomfortably. The conversation getting too soft for his liking. “Let’s go eat with Dee and Heavy!” Glam exclaims excited to change the topic.
Seeing his scars reopened like that genuinely changed something in him. “Sebastian is dead.” He repeats to himself as he walks down the stairs. That part of him was dead, and always would be. He’d never let the cycle continue, like Sebastian would. He’d never have that much hatred towards a dead man, like Sebastian did. Sebastian was gone. Gustav was gone. Right?
Was his father actually dead..? Glam was at the funeral, but how could his own father die at 50? That was unlikely. He was healthy, and well exercised. There’s also no way he could have been assassinated, with as many enemies he had. Was Gustav Shvangenbagen still alive? The thought haunts him. Gustav.? Still alive? He was just being paranoid. It was a closed casket on the other hand-
“Pap?” Heavy questions, raising one eyebrow. Fork still in hand.
“Hm- I apologize. I must have spaced out back there.” Glam laughs awkwardly. Finally taking his seat at the table.
“Took you long enough.” Vicky mumbles head in hand.
Glam looks confused. What was happening? Why does Vicky look so.. Pissed? He doesn’t know what to say. Even Heavy’s gone quiet, and that was unlikely for him. Glam looks at Dee who seems to be studying him like some sort of specimen.
“So.. pap.” Dee picks up his fork staring at Glam suspiciously. “How have you been?” He continues still holding the fork as the food slips off.
“I’m fine, Dee. Thank you for asking. How are you?” Glam tilts his head, questioning Dee back politely.
Victoria and Dee share that same suspicious look. As for Heavy looking innocently confused. Were they all in on some inside joke he was missing out on. What was happening?
“Good enough.” Dee mumbles. Standing up from the table and walking to his room.
Vicky slams her head on the table, seemingly still pissed. “Can’t get shit outta you, can I?” She groans in an exasperated tone.
“I apologize, Victoria. What would you like to know?” He replies in that same happy, happy tone. He feels his brain go back onto autopilot. It’s as if he was in a locked room screaming for help but no one could hear him.
“Just be honest with me.” His wife looks back up at him. “Why’d you do it?” She looks at his now covered wrist.
Glam fiddles with his bracelet. “It wasn’t me.” He mumbles not making eye contact.
“What?”
“I didn’t hurt myself, Victoria!” He snaps slamming his hands on the table.
“Glam?”
Glam feels himself losing to Sebastian. He’s losing himself, he’s losing the “Glam” Gustav. Sebastian. Lydia. Mary? He lets himself fall to the ground. His childhood hasn’t affected him since the funeral. What is happening now? Glam spends most of his time on self reflection to help understand himself, but he is more lost now than ever.
“Look at the time! It’s past sleep, sleep- haha!” He must sound like a maniac laughing like this. He walks to his office, shutting the door behind him. The clock is still broken on the floor, but somehow he can still hear it “tick, tick, tick, tock.”
Glam wakes up again, not remembering sleeping in the first place. The door knocks. No, someone knocks on the door. He couldn't even think straight. He slips on his fluffy white poodle slippers and drags himself to the door, annoyed that someone would knock on his door at this time of night. He opens the door, stifling a yawn.
“Yes..?” He mumbles, unable to make out the man in front of him.
“Hello. The seemingly tall man says in a deadpan voice.
“Sebastian.”