Warning: One swear word, blood, abuse.
I disconnect the call from Hailey with mixed emotions. I am feeling glad that she is finally at least trying to take on the role of a mother seriously, but at the same it’s worrying me. Hailey barely has any idea about babies, she never really helped after giving birth to Clinton. All she did was continuously sleeping until Waylon had to make sure she wouldn’t starve her own child while he was at work and I attended my studies. So, I can’t say I didn’t have my doubts right after she randomly offered taking care of the child she didn’t give a damn about his whole life. Hearing her voice and the ting of hope in the tone made me soften up a bit. She is his mother after all and she has the right to see her son, which I can’t really take away from her. And this is how I agreed. Giving my consent, however, not only meant I was going to let her tend to Clint, it also meant that I was going to agree to what my husband has been trying to force me to agree to.
“Way?” I gently knock on the bedroom door, where he is still spending his time reflecting on what has transpired between us.
“Frankie, I’ve made my mind. If you really don’t want to go, then I guess…”
“Oh, but no, I do want to go. Let me in and we can talk.” The door opens on Waylon who looks rather miserable. I notice his eyes are red as if he had been crying. He instantly reaches out to kiss me.
I give in, surprised at this sudden change in his mood.
“I’m so sorry, Frankie. I should have never tried to force you to do anything you didn’t want to do. But what were you saying? Come on in.” As I take a place on the sofa next to him, he speaks again.
“Are you sure, Frankie? I can understand if it’s too much and…”
“Yeah, I’m sure. I’ve just been talking to Hailey and…”
“Oh no, not this girly. I told you you can do better… much better than such flighty gals. What was it that she wanted from you this time? People do not call without a reason and certainly not her.”
“Well, she wanted advice on parenting…”
“Are we talking about the same person? Middle height, gray eyes, incredibly annoying, always either sleeping or bombarding you with her countless problems? Hair color not defined, because she dyes it whenever her pinhead’s mind tells her to?”
“I wouldn’t put it like that, but yes, we are still talking about Hailey. And Way, I think she wants to improve.”
“Oh, so when was her improving and responsibility when she fell pregnant with your father? One may think she would improve after that and here she is with another man almost double her age, falling pregnant yet again. Do you think that’s a good improvement strategy?”
“Stop being so snappy, Way. You know she is my best-friend.”
“No offense, but she’s one of your poorest life choices, Frankie. Being too lenient to push away toxic people is one of your biggest weaknesses. This irresponsible brat can’t take care of herself, let alone for a child – or two, it appears! A shame people like her have the right to conceive, we have enough slack idiots out there, really.” You see what it’s like, newfound diary. I can’t even bring myself to tell him what I want to do. It would be just pointless. So, I decide to address the issue in a different way.
“But Clint is her child. She should have the right to see him if she wants to.”
“Clinton is more my child than he’d ever be hers. You know that, Frankie. And don’t let him fall into her hands. God only knows what she might want to do to the poor boy.”
“But if not for her, we wouldn’t have Clinton in the first place!”
“So what? You don’t become a parent through being unable to keep your junk in your boxers or your cookie in your panties. Being a parent means responsibility. Responsibility is the antonym of Hailey. End of topic. What was it you said about the parade again?” I sigh, quietly voicing my discontent. Waylon just doesn’t understand. Hailey is not perfect, but no one is. Not even him. I think he sometimes forgets about that. You have to forgive others so that you can be forgiven, too.
“I said I wanted to go. You know I’d go to the ends of the earth with you, Way.” I send him a large smile and he kisses it off my face.
“I love you, Frankie. But you sure?”
“This could be fun.”
“Fasten your seat belt, then. I’ll show you everything!”
It wasn’t hard to come up with a plan and then make it reality. The people who love you trust you the most. This is how it was in my case. It breaks my heart that I had to lie to Way about leaving Clinton with a friend from my studies. I told him to wait in the house and prepare his luggage (Waylon always takes forever to pack as he does everything on short notice), and I would drop Clint off at my friend’s house and then we would get into the car to head for Bridgeport. Fortunately, it’s even nearer to Bridgeport from Starlight Shores than from Twinbrook, my home town.
Despite my initial concerns, the parade turns out to be a lot of fun.
Waylon has some face paint from the previous parades he’s been to (how many boyfriends has he had before me, though? I’m a bit too afraid to ask…) and he paints my cheeks with the colors of the rainbow. I also get myself a shirt with a pretty butterfly on it. Rainbow-colored butterfly holds a lot of meaning to me. It symbolizes the freedom to finally be who you are. And it makes me feel super gay – in the initial meaning of this word, of course!
We eventually decide to sit down in the park for a while.
We’ve taken a selfie earlier that day and I am just about to send it to Hannah, when someone taps my arm. I turn around to face a man with a knife in his hand.
He’s so fast I am late to scream. I barely dodge so that the knife doesn’t land in my eye.
“Death to the gays!” The man screams. Waylon is unfortunately too late to react and when tries to take him down, he escapes, heading for the other attenders of the parade. It’s rustling in my ears and I feel blood running down my face. My first instinct is to touch my bleeding nostril. Bad move, because my hand is now covered in blood as well.
“It looks fucking awful, Frankie. We’d better get out of here.” Waylon eyes my face and next thing I know is his hand in mine. I’m being pushed to my feet.
Making our way through the crowd, away from the screams, from the sirens of a police car nearby, away from my attacker… Blood is now dripping down my beautiful new T-shirt.
So much for being free to be who I am, dear butterfly…
Note: Yes, that’s it, finally! So yeah, now are you all fully convinced I’m an evil creature or not yet?
First, I would like to say thank you to heatherfeather19 and LieseMietze whose Simmies I used and they can be found here: Jane and Wendy, Bronson Littler (adult version here, for some reason didn’t install for me) and Ace Wilde. ❤ The rest of them are EA townies from Aurora Skies and Roaring Heights: Viktor Valquist & Jasper Sandstrom, Audrey & Dylan Shear. I would have gathered up more, but I’m still super worn out after the wedding, so you have to forgive me.
Now, the exciting stuff – I somehow managed to make my first two poses!
These are the first shots I’ve taken with them, just went in game and was so shocked to see they actually worked. Of course they are still super imperfect and I’m too embarrased to let anyone share this flawed effect of my work, therefore they’ll be available only to me, because only I can write a_jowita_knife_attacker and a_jowita_knife_frank. Lmao, it’s super amusing that I entered the pride household and had Sam attack Frank. I’ve missed my little psychopath.
But one last thing: it’s just a friendly reminder that no one’ll tell you more about Frank if you kill me now. Thank you for your attention and now excuse me, because I’m off to Russia tomorrow (partly to escape my punishment from you, but it’s also how I’m going to spend my holidays). Take care! ♥