Chapter Text
Glam looked around the room he was currently in. Bookshelves filled the walls, holding various classical pieces of different authors, organised alphabetically from A to Z. He could see his reflection in the window in front of which was situated a rather big, elegant, wooden desk with a velvet red chair with gold finishes the desk lamp was the only source of light.
Why was he in his father's study? Glam asked himself. He didn't remember going in. His father would go mad if he found out his son had entered the office without his permission. He shook his head slightly at the thought of his father's 'discipline and punishment' method. He needed to get out.
Sebastian took a step towards the door
but at that moment he heard the doorknob turn.
Was it one of the servants or father himself?
What should he say? That he was sleepwalking?
He didn't remember how he got here. The disorientation was scaring him.
Before he could think about a semi-believable explanation, the door opened.
His father was looking at him with a glass of whisky in his hand.
He looked a bit messier than usual. His tie was loosened and the top two buttons of the shirt unbuttoned. A bit of redness on his cheeks, was out of the ordinary for his abnormally pale
complexion.
He looked angry.
'Sebastian. What are you doing h-here?'
Gustav asked harshly, leaning against the doorway.
But there was something at the end of that question that didn't sound right. Then the boy realised. His father was drunk.
That would explain the rosy cheeks and the lack of his father's usual, almost unnaturally straight and tense posture.
Sebastian looked at him terrified. He could feel his hands shaking.'Father, I-' He got interrupted by the sound of breaking glass. Shattered pieces landed under his feet along with some of the half melted ice cubes.
He watched his father make a couple of steps, swaying on his feet. 'Don't just stand here stuttering like some half-wit. Explain yourself!' His words came out almost like a roar. Sebastian couldn't move. Couldn't speak. He just stood there, frozen in fear. His mind was racing. What was going to happen now?
The boy knew his father was demanding a response. 'I apologize father. I don't know how-' he was interrupted again. 'Of course you "don't know". Act like a man for once. Have the courage to account for your actions.' Gustav was starting to shout now. Sebastian took two steps back. "I thought I would have a son worthy of our family name. Not some 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘺. You can't even explain yourself without crying. Surely there must be another way to show you how a man is supposed to behave".
In that moment, Sebastian's eyes wandered to the lower part of his father's body. Staggering towards his son, Gustav started unbuckling his belt.
𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯 the boy though apprehensively.
It was as if the ground had collapsed beneath him. He wanted to run, desperately looking for a way out to get away from his drunk father. Sebastian's mind was racing. Maybe he could try to escape through the window? In the worst case he could get seriously hurt or break a bone. He was almost sure this would cause him less pain than what his father was about to do to him.
He did not move.
What was happening?
'Now Sebastian...how will you- look at me when
I'm talking to you!' his father shouted at the boy.
He felt tears rolling down his cheeks and a burning pain on
his left cheek. All he could do was stare blankly at the wooden floor, hoping the pain wouldn't be as unbearable as it was the last time.
'Sebastian!' he heard Gustav scream again, preparing himself for another hit.
'Glam!'
𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵?
'Glam!'
He heard someone call again. Everything started going blurry. What was happening? He looked at his father. His face was becoming dismembered, all images were fusing together, the voices becoming muffled.
'GLAM!'
He jerked awake.
He could feel the sweat roll down his back, his breathing
quick and deep, as if he had just emerged from a pool after
jolding his breath. It was dark. He could feel someone touch
his arm. Involuntarily he flinched away.
'Hey man- alright alright I'm not touching you.' said Ches calmly, raising his hands in surrender, taken aback by his friend's unusual response. 'It's alright now. It was just another of your bad dreams, okay?' Glam watched him turn away and turn on a little lamp on the nightstand.
He was at Ches's place. He was alright. He doesn't live there anymore. He's safe. He'll never have to see his father again.
'Sebastian!'
Hee heard a voice 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮 inside his head
'SEBASTIAN!'
it was his father.
Momentarily Glam could feel the sharp pain that was usually left by the ruler, Gustav's hands on his body, and that disgusting, alcohol-reeking breath.
'Hey...Glam? Are you alright? You're paler than usual.' noticed Ches. Glam felt sick.
Ches has seen this grimace before. Many times, when
his mother or friends had too much to drink.
He jumped out of their shared bed to get the trash can to his
friend before it was too late. Grabbing the bucket, Glam retched into it a couple of times, then vomiting almost solely with
stomach acid and water, as he had skipped the last meal a couple of hours before.
Only then, after spitting the remains of what was left in his stomach mixed with saliva, he felt himself tremble.
'What was that?' asked Ches 'Did you eat something bad?' It took a while for Glam to form a response, as he was still shaken by what had turned out to be just a nightmare.
Just a bad dream.
Glam hid his face in his hands and exhaled.
'I don't know. I'm sorry. I'll clean up after myself' he said, starting to feel a bit embarrassed.
'It's alright man, God only knows how many times you've had to take care of me when I got wasted' he chuckled, taking the trash can away.
Ches seemed tired. Glam looked at the watch on the desk which showed it was 2.34 AM.
'I'll go get you a glass of water. Do you have a fever?" asked Ches, gently putting a hand on Glam's forehead. The coolness of his palm on his head was soothing for Glam, whose whole body seemed to be burned up 'I'll go look for some meds, though there's a possibility mom took them cause of the hangovers and stuff' said Ches, then walked out the door, carrying the bin to dispose of its contents.
Glam sat on the bed, feeling his shirt soaked with sweat
stick to his back. He didn't have it in him to get up and get
changed, so instead he just took it off and tossed it aside
to the corner of the room, right onto the pile of other dirty clothes.
𝘞𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘰 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯 he thought.
While waiting for Ches to return, Glam layed on the
bed and stared at the ceiling.
The memory of the dream was still vivid. He tried not to focus on the imaginary veins sliding all over his body, from his feet up through his thighs, up and up and up. He could almost physically feel them touching him, plunging him into darkness.
Exactly like when he was 10 years old.
He was glad he would never have to be 10 again.
On the pillow beside him was laying Ches's flannel shirt. Glam tried to focus on its smell instead. It smelled of dried tea leaves, cigarettes and musk. It was grounding in a way.
A while after that Ches came back, with a bottle of water
and a pill. Painkiller or a fever reducer...Glam didn't care.
As long as it makes him feel better.
Not long after that he fell asleep again.
Thankfully his father didn't appear in his dreams that night anymore.