Chapter Text
Freighton Park - April 14th 1996
There was a small, tight-knit town in the middle of nowhere, called Freighton Park. The buildings were packed close, cuddled up side-by-side. Everyone knew and largely trusted each other. Hardly any crime happened there because of the town's overwhelming support and compassion for each and every citizen.
Living in a house somewhere in the heart of town, was Cohen Briggston. Cohen Briggston was a rather unpopular teenager. Not too well known at school, or even in the town. No one really talked with or about him other than his mother. His mother loved him to death. Sure, she argued with him about his addictions, and his poor relationship with his father, but her love doubled to fill the gaps of what she feared were her own mistakes.
Cohen's grandmother on the other hand only saw him with disappointment.
Cohen just being in the room with her was enough to upset her. She was greatly disappointed by his life choices, and even more disappointed with the fact that he had been so inappropriately behaved. So Cohen never spoke to his grandmother much. He never asked her for help, support or advice, and couldn't care less about her fits of rage or attempts at arguing with him. And even though things seemed (at least in her eyes) that he didn't have an ounce of love or respect for her, at the end of each and every one of her 'outbursts' he'd always run up to his room, slam the door and just cry.
That's all he knew to do to help any of his problems. Cry. There was really no thing he spent more of his alone time doing than drinking or crying. And it made him feel like such a mythic loser.
It was 9:17 AM. Cohen slept through his weekend alarm by roughly 17 minutes. Again. Cohen stayed in bed. Again. His cheeks still stained by dry tears. Again. Even that horrid knock at his door. Again. Despite being fully expected, the morning knock still managed to scare his eyes open. He dazedly gazed at the doorway to see his mother, dressed in her work clothes. "Cohen, wake up." She said, her voice evening out the pressure in Cohen's head. "I just got an emergency call from my job. The lady who normally does the weekend shift woke up sick, so I have to take over for her." Cohen's mother walked over to his bedside and gently brushed her fingers against the right side of his face.
"As for while I'm gone, I found two tickets for the Moonshiner Circus. Maybe you and your little friend can get your grandma to drive you guys there." She handed him two little purple pieces of paper, both read 'TICKET' in curly white letters. "Where did you get them from?" Asked Cohen, not actually interested at all in where they were from. "I got them from a coworker. Said that she used to work there, and that it was a good time." She looked down at her watch, a worried smile grew on her face. "Well, I've got to go, Cohen. Enjoy that circus." With that, she dashed out the room.
Cohen opened up his hand and stared at the tickets, considering if he was even in the mood to go anywhere.
After what felt like eons of thinking, thankfully, his boredom won over his tiredness. Maybe this would be a good experience. After all, he needed more good experiences in his life; maybe they'd even out the horrific experiences that held his joy hostage. He crept out of his bedroom, down the hall and into his grandmother's. The moment he reached the doorway he could smell her hatred. Overpowering that was the stench of old wine and a slight hint of phlegm. Cohen stood still for a moment. He thought over if he should even try to talk to his grandmother. He slowly opened his mouth and pushed out as many words as he could. "Grandma. Can you take me and Phillip to the Moonshiner Circus?" Cohen hoped his grandmother would say yes, and if she didn't, he'd probably just sit in his room watching Teen Angel all day. "Why. You never talk to me unless you want something, Cohen." Grandma looked up at Cohen, her face full of disgust. He tried his best to keep eye contact with her, but her gaze was cold and uncomfortable.
"I really do wish you weren't my grandson. Do you know that?"
"Yes, grandma."
"Okay. I'll take you to the circus. But don't act like you love me like that ever again. I know you're evil and full of lies.—homo." Grandma spat with every word that came out of her mouth. Hearing her terrible words made Cohen's heart swell up in a way it never had before. He did think that he was really evil, and full of lies. That there was no good in his soul. That he was a demon, and no grandchild of hers. She had told him that so many times. But never to stop acting like he loved her. All Cohen wanted was for his grandma to know that he did love her, although she hated him with every atom of flesh in her body. "Thank you." Cohen's voice croaked. As his throat closed up, he realized he was about to break down again, and suppressed it with a wide, but fake smile as he felt his heartbeat near explosion. "Thank you very much." Cohen walked out of the room as fast as he physically could. He stumbled across the floor and leaned on the phone. Small tears formed in his eyes as he started to call his friend, Phillip. When Phillip picked up, a huge wave of peace came over Cohen. "Hey Phillip. My mom got us tickets to the Moonshiner Circus. Wanna come?" Cohen bit his lip, anticipating Phillip's answer.
"Ooh, okay, sounds interesting. Who's taking us?" He said, his voice coated in genuine joy.
"My grandma."
Grandma. Cohen didn't even know if he should even call her that anymore. The utter fear she struck in him was so intense that she felt more like a military general than a sweet old lady.
"Oh, cool. I'll walk over. See you in a second."