Seated looking perfectly calm on the chair facing Dr. Neilson, divided by a desk, is Mr. Edmund Codrin who tries hard to maintain the façade of calm because at the moment, he is engulfed in rage. “What do you mean he’s free to go? I’ve paid you a lot of money to keep him in here, good doctor,” Edmund said, stressing the words ‘money’ and ‘good doctor’. He crosses his arms, focusing on the doctor’s face, leaning back on his chair. This way, it will avoid him from jerking forward to punch the doctor’s face. It might happen. But he’s only contemplating it for now.

 

“But he had passed all of his psych eval. He’s not sick anymore. I’ve put him through those therapies I’ve told you about. He hardly remembers anything about you anymore, Mr. Codrin,” Dr. Neilson spoke, choosing his words carefully. He knows what kind of a man Edmund Codrin is. A man of wealth and power. The kind of person who have the brightest future in this corrupted world.

 

Edmund scoffs at the doctor’s explanation. It’s not even making sense. He refuses to accept this. “Then make up some sort of sickness to keep him here. I don’t want him to go home,” he insisted.

 

The doctor sighs. At this rate, he might never win against the hard-headed billionaire in front of him. Maybe a softer approach might work on this selfish father? “He’ll be eighteen in a few more months. He doesn’t need to be long in your house. He can live on his own. You’ve never once visited your poor kid, Mr. Codrin. Perhaps you should see for yourself how much your son had changed,” he persuaded.

 

Edmund laughs aloud to the persuasion. Like that would work! “I wouldn’t want to see that kid’s face ever again. The last time I saw him he was drenched in blood. My late wife’s blood. His own mother for God’s fucking sake!” he spat, clear disgust shown in his every word for his own son. At the back of his mind, he can still remember Lucca in his pajamas, drenched in blood, the kitchen knife in his hands, Patricia laid unmoving all bloodied on the floor, and that sick smile on his son’s face!

 

The good doctor sighs again. He can’t believe how a father is too disgusted of his own son that he refuses to believe how therapy had cured mental illness. “That was almost 10 years ago. He was disturbed. And at some point, you were the cause of it and you knew it,” the doctor accused. But it is of a knowing fact.

 

Edmund only smiles guiltily but he’s far from sorry. And he thought of those fucks he had with his own son. How old was Lucca back then? 8? It doesn’t matter now anymore. But those were the only good times he can remember about Lucca. How submissive Lucca was to him. “And I’ve paid you enough money to keep your mouth shut about it, good doctor,” he reminded Dr. Neilson. How dare this doctor blamed him for the derailed mind of his son, he thought to himself. Should he shove more money into his mouth?

 

“Yes. You’ve paid me a lot. Even to the point where I had breached my client-psychiatrist confidentiality. It was all because of your money. But I’ve been with your son for about a decade that I’ve seen enough what a good, innocent boy he is. You shouldn’t blame him for what had happened. He is well now. Very well, Mr. Codrin,” he stresses the word ‘well’ that it makes Edmund feels sick to his stomach at this doctor’s obvious favor in his son.

 

Scoffing, Edmund leans closer to the doctor’s face by stamping both of his palms on the desk, indicating threat of violence. “I can sense your bias for him in each of your word, doctor,” he said.

 

The doctor trembles a little at that small indication of threat coming from Edmund. But he thinks of his days where he had surpassed beyond the right code of conduct in his career. For once, he wanted to do what is right. So he admitted. “Indeed. I favored him.”

 

This is it, Edmund thought. He’s going to teach this doctor a lesson. As he’s about to launch his fist on the good doctor’s face, he heard a song coming from inside of the building. ~ I'm the one you've been thinking about, The one thing you can't live without, I'm the one you've been waiting for, I'll have you down on your knees, I'll have you begging for more ~ The sounds of an electric guitar being strummed and the voice of a young man which sounded much like his late father. His father was a well-known singer back in the old days. He haven’t heard anyone with such similar voice to his father until this and it makes him wonder. “Who’s that?”

 

The doctor smiles in relief. He knew he was about to be hit by this filthy man but the song had saved him from his fate. “Don’t you remember? You bought him a guitar when he asked one for his last birthday. That’s your son,” Dr. Neilson said.

 

What Dr. Neilson said had Edmund leaned back on his chair in disbelief. “That’s my Lucca? I didn’t buy him anything. I just gave money to my secretary to buy him things. She’s the one who’s even supposed to come today but she got sick, damn it.” His voice had softened down a bit. And he’s lost in thoughts as he keeps listening to the song.

 

They both fell under the spell of silent as they listen to the song played by Lucca all the way from his room until he finishes singing. “Don’t you want to at least visit him? Once? And then decide on your own,” Dr. Neilson persuaded the man one last time.

 

“Hmm..” is all the answer he got from Edmund.

 

With reasons unknown even to him, he found himself now standing in front of the room which belongs to Lucca. There’s just this piece of wood obstructing his way from seeing his son and he wonders if he should breach this very line that had divided them. He wonders if this is the right thing to do. Just minutes before, he was downstairs in Dr. Neilson’s room insisting on keeping his son locked here in this very mental institution forever.

 

“Oh I’m sorry I think you’re in the wrong room,” Lucca said as he saw the tall, dark-haired man with cold green eyes entering his room. He feels odd that the man didn’t even knock. He can sense dangerous air all around the man which appeared to be in his late thirties. But he dismisses the thought quickly because he won’t want to believe that. The man somehow felt… familiar to him.

 

Edmund Codrin is in his deep state of shock the minute he laid eyes on his Lucca. The blond-haired young boy is as beautiful as his late mother. Even more beautiful in his manners as it appears. His eyes are of green in color, matched to his own, only that the eyes gaze at everything softly. Kindness is written all over them, unlike his own cold, judging eyes. The boy only smiles at him and it’s clear to Edmund that his own son didn’t recognize who he is. He doesn’t know whether he should be flattered or disappointed. “No. I’m in the right room,” he answered softly.

 

Lucca looks back at Edmund quizzically like he has no means of understanding why the man is there to see him. “I usually only have one visitor- Miss Rene. But who are you?” He asked. His soft-spoken voice really reminded Edmund of his own late father, Lucca’s grandfather to be exact, whom have died in a car accident when Lucca was only a new born. Lucca never got the chance to meet him. At that moment, Edmund can’t help but think how his father would have loved Lucca and how well will they get along if the circumstances were different than of these.

 

“Miss Rene couldn’t be here today. She’s sick,” Edmund informed uncaringly. He seated himself on the sofa facing Lucca. He looks around at how spacious the room is. Of course, he had paid good enough money to the institution to provide only the best for his son. It’s not that he cares much of Lucca back then. He only cares of his reputation since Lucca bears the name of Codrin. He can’t let a Codrin lives in a filthy place now can he?

 

Lucca sits on his bed, facing Edmund, unsure of what is going on and the motives of this man to be here. So he makes a guess. “I see. So you’re here to replace her for the day, is it? Welcome then,” he greeted, smiling in the process.

 

Edmund smiles without him even realizing that he does as he received the greetings from his son. But just as he realizes the magic Lucca has on him, he quickly shifts back to his old uncaring self. “You don’t remember me, Lucca?” He asked coldly.

 

Lucca has his legs rocking as they are hung down from where he was sitting. This was done unconsciously and he seems to be lost in thinking. “Hm. No. Am I supposed to remember you?” He asked innocently. There’s just something about Lucca that makes Edmund feels different sort of emotions in his chest. He’s trying so hard to keep them just inside. Letting them out will make him look weak. He won’t like it that way.

 

Edmund chuckles a little. What kind of a question is that? Why is it that he even bothered to ask Lucca if he remembers him? He shakes his head in embarrassment. “Not really,” he answered to Lucca. Somehow, deep in his heart, he just has to admit that he’s a little hurt that his son doesn’t even remember him but that’s what he had asked for all along, right? All those unnecessary therapies... He looks around at how well Lucca had taken care of the room. There’s a black fender guitar neatly placed at its’ holder. Posters of bands Edmund had no sense of familiarities plastered on most parts of the wall. The queen-sized bed that looks cozy is placed opposite a long sofa that’s directly laid next to the window. The view outside is of the hospital’s garden. Edmund’s eyes wander again back to the guitar. “Did you play that just now?” He asked.

 

Lucca eyes seem surprised at the question and he quickly blushes a bit. He smiles shyly. “Yes. It was that song from the band ‘In This Moment’. Of course Maria Brink sings her version better. But I really love that song. And she’s hot,” Lucca explained lengthily and ends it with a small laugh. Edmund has no idea at all as to who Maria Brink is but he laughs along too. It was not for what Lucca had said but for the fact that he enjoys listening to the laughter coming from Lucca. He can’t help himself. It’s all coming back to him now. Those distant emotions.

 

“Dr. Neilson said you’re better and that you can go home. Do you want to go home, Lucca?” Edmund asked. He doesn’t feel well. He is starting to feel the urge again. The urge he always feels when he looks at his son. He guesses that’s why he had been refusing to even paid him a visit before. This lust…

 

Lucca looks troubled by the question. He looks down and stops rocking his legs. “But where is home? This is home. I don’t remember a home before this,” he simply said. Is that it? Edmund thought. He won’t go home?

 

Edmund can’t help but feels sad. A feeling he had long lost. This was his doings. He was the one who had put his own son here for too long and had stripped him off of his memories of a home. And it burns his heart little by little. It’s the guilt he is feeling deep in his chest. “I’ll take you home okay. And we’ll make the new place felt like home too,” he promised. He is not even sure if he can keep the promise but he promised it anyway.

 

Quietly thinking to himself, Lucca looks terribly sad. “But my father hates me. I don’t want to see him. I don’t want him to see me too. I might make him sad. I did something really bad. I deserve his hate. I just don’t want to burden him any longer,” Lucca said. Sense of maturity is showing in his words. And Edmund feels a bit proud of him. His Lucca had grown so much. He never even had the chance to be around to see him grow this much.

 

No. He had his chance. He just didn’t take it. So now he will. He walks closer to Lucca and sits next to him. “No. Papa doesn’t hate you, Lucca,” Edmund said and quickly hugs him close. And he can’t help himself but to cry a little. “Papa loves you,” he confessed. And it’s true.

 

“Papa?” Lucca asked. He can’t believe that this man is his father. He just can’t believe it. He wanted to hug him back but he just sits there without moving. He is in shock and slowly, tears started to fall down from his eyes too. And he realizes what he must do. He lets go of the hug. “Papa?” He asked again for confirmation. There’s a look on his face that shows how much he had felt like his father had betrayed him and he quickly turns around. He refuses to face him and he keeps on crying, covering his face.

 

Edmund wanted to reach out to Lucca. But at this state, Lucca is nowhere to be reached. He refuses to even look back at Edmund. “Papa will take you home okay? Please forgive me, Lucca. Do you hate Papa?” Edmund said all that he could in an effort to comfort him but he fears if it will not work.

 

“No. How can I hate you? I don’t,” Lucca simply answered behind his closed face with his palms as he cries. “I’m sorry,” he apologized, still, without facing Edmund.

 

“Don’t be. Papa will take you home. Wait for Papa, okay?” Edmund promised. He gets up from the bed and walks his way to the door. He will take Lucca out of here. Lucca deserves to be in his home. Lucca is his son. He loathes himself as he thought of all the things he had done before just to keep his poor son in here all along. He doesn’t know how to even forgive himself.

 

Lucca turns to look as the door is being shut. Tears hanging on his eyes and soaked his face. Then, just slowly, a smile curves on his face. A sick smile that is. Obviously, he had planned it all along. “We’re going to have so much fun, Papa. Isn’t I’m your whore?,” he said and wipes his tears as if all of the tears are just some useless props he had made used of. At 17, acting like a child was a piece of cake. How could his father not noticed such innocent act. What a stupid fuck, he thought.