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At first, Oscar tried to forgive him. Tried to pass it off as just being too busy. He didn't hate his dad when he was younger, because when he was younger he at least tried to make an effort.
But at Lauren's wedding began the chain of Max being an awful, awful father. He told him that he couldn't stay, even after he had said he needed him. Because he did, he needed his dad in his life because his own mother made it clear she wouldn't be there for him. Turned out his dad wouldn't be there for him either.
So he left him.
When Max finally came back to Walford, he assumed it would get better, that he'd finally get the chance to know his dad, that his dad would finally get the chance to know him.
But it wasn't like that.
Max always came up with hurried excuses when Oscar proposed something, always mumbled something and rushed away afterwards. He was sick of it, of him. Of his dad. But he still tried. Because in reality he was just a scared, lonely little boy, though he'd never admit it. But Oscar was always his second choice, always put after someone else. He didn't particularly mind it when it was Lauren because she was his sister and he loved her to bits.
But when it was another one of Max's hook ups? That was what made him mad.
Because all his father ever did was lie right through his teeth, and every time he fell for it because he ever so desperately wanted his dad to love him.
The night of the carols was the day he snapped. Max left him again for Linda's daughter; the one the whole family spoke in hushed tones about, because little did his father know, that child was his. Little sweet innocent Annie was his. They had made plans and he left him for what, the Grinch? Oscar couldn't help himself when he let it come out, whether it were the pent up fury or the alcohol speaking or a mixture of both, the secret slipped.
"Merry Christmas dad, I hope it was worth it," he said curtly, raising his head to look at the Christmas tree. He could tell his dad was now seething.
"What?" His dad said slowly.
"Yeah, Annie's another one of your children that you'll probably forget about after finding yet another woman. Cause," he poked his dad in the chest, "You don't care, do you? Not really. It's hardly a surprise she's your daughter, I mean she looks like you. You must be pretty dumb to not figure that one out."
"Oscar—"
"Shh. Do you even remember I'm your son? You don't remember the plans we make and let me guess and you don't remember anything about me do you? Go on, when's my birthday?"
"I don't see why that matters, and besides I do love you Oscar."
"You're deflecting! Why? Because you don't know! God! Why do I even try? Nice one dad," He grumbled, "I'm sick of this," he moved to leave, "Have fun! Tell me how it was, if you remember that you have a son called Oscar that asked you to."
He walked away quickly, not looking back. He didn't care if Max was chasing after him. Oscar's hands were curled into fists and his chest was tight with anger. He didn't head home. He needed to clear his head first, get rid of all of the things that he wanted to say, all of the things he didn't want to think about. He beelined for the park at a rapid pace.
When he got there, he slumped into one of the swings.
But Max stood across from him.
"Look, Oscar I'm sorry. I'm sorry that what I've done has made you feel this way. I just got so caught up with a whole bunch of stuff. I'm sorry mate."
"But you're not sorry, because you don't try to correct any of your mistakes, you don't even make an effort to meet up with me. Do you not care about me, is that it? Am I the problem?"
"No, never. You could never be."
"Well it sure feels like it! You've left me so many times, over and over again! I'm always second choice, you never pick me over someone else so just tell me and be honest, why? Why am I never the first one you think about? Because I'm your child and you hardly know me!"
His dad opened his mouth to speak but no words came out.
"Right. I get it. That's all you had to say; nothing."
"I didn't—"
"Save it dad. Save it. I'll just stop trying."
"Oscar," he reached out to grab his shoulder.
He flinched away and jumped off the swing set.
"Thanks for being a great dad," he said sarcastically, barging past him as he tried to block him from leaving, "have a good night with Annie. Try to be better for her. Don't mess up like you did with me. Don't bother calling me."
And so he left his dad alone in the quiet park as he stormed away, planning on retreating home to his room. He opened the door with a click and closed it quietly behind him, making an effort not to awake the others in the house which he assumed were sleeping. Carefully he peered around the living room door, spotting Jimmy asleep with a serene expression upon his face. He wanted to hold him, tell him that he's lucky for having a mother and father who truly loved him, but he didn't because he knew he'd wake him up and that would make Lauren wake up too.
So he left his sweet cousin to rest and cautiously made his way to his room, his previous irritation simmered down now. Much to his luck, the floor didn't groan as he navigated to his room and shut himself in it. He shut the door softly and stood for a moment. Oscar slowly removed his coat, hanging it on the back of the door and kicking off his shoes.
He wandered over to his bed and got into it, tucking himself in under the covers. Something his dad had never done for him.
Oscar looked tiredly at the mirror across from him that sat beside his dresser and watched as his reflection blinked back at him.
He'd done it.
He'd finally let out all the frustration he'd had building up inside of him, bubbling and brewing like a witch's cauldron.
But for some reason it still hurt. Deep down he still loved his dad even though it was dangerous, he couldn't help the fact that he needed him in his life. It was a biting, nagging feeling he knew he couldn't get rid of. It lingered in the back of his mind like a bad smell.
But that was a problem for later. All he wanted to do was rest.
Oscar let the peacefulness of sleep take him away to a place where he didn't have to worry.