{"id":1265,"date":"2023-12-22T06:00:00","date_gmt":"2023-12-22T06:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/blueandread.asbarcelona.com\/?p=1265"},"modified":"2023-12-21T08:39:07","modified_gmt":"2023-12-21T08:39:07","slug":"untitled-part-five","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blueandread.asbarcelona.com\/?p=1265","title":{"rendered":"Untitled, Part Five"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

That kid was lying,<\/em> the man thinks. For sure.<\/em> How could he not know? <\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was Fineas\u2019 own girlfriend who left, after all. She would have told him. She would have at least texted him an explanation. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

He looks in the mirror in front of him, dragging the razor across his face. He sees an aging man, a man with rings under his drooping eyes as prominent as the ones found in trees.  He watches the grief register across his face when he thinks of his daughter, all alone. His hands tighten around the razor when he remembers her insolent boyfriend. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Did Fineas drive her away?<\/em> The question lingers in the back of his mind. Is he as disrespectful to April as he was to him?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He knows, though, that it wasn\u2019t Fineas. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

He knows it was himself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He is desperate to know that she is okay. He just wants to keep her safe. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

When he doesn\u2019t let her go out, he tells her it\u2019s for the greater good. You never know who\u2019s out there, waiting for a naive teenage girl to come running straight into their trap that they cover up with honey-soaked remarks. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

He\u2019s always insisted on her telling him where she goes. He insists on driving her places–he won\u2019t let her go alone. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019s all for protection,\u201d he tells her when she dares complain. It drives him crazy when she complains. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou should be happy<\/em> about this,\u201d he informed her once. \u201cStop that goddamn complaining. You sound so ungrateful!\u201d When she had tried to interject, he snapped at her. \u201cAren\u2019t you thankful<\/em> that I\u2019m doing this for you? Most parents wouldn\u2019t bother, you know. Most parents wouldn\u2019t care<\/em>,\u201d he fumed. \u201cI care.\u201d His voice had broken on that last line, and he remembers feeling mad at himself for being weak. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Now, he doesn\u2019t care if he\u2019s acting vulnerable. As long as he finds her. She\u2019s been gone for over a week. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

He\u2019s so lost in his memory that he doesn\u2019t even realize he nicked himself with his razor until the pain snaps him out of his trance. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

He looks around for a tissue before remembering he ran out. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

He murmurs a curse under his breath. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Glancing back at the mirror, he notices that the nick is bigger than he realizes. A single drop of blood runs down his face. He doesn\u2019t bother wiping it away. He watches it, admiring the path it makes. Zigzag like a skier on a mountain. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

He breathes in deeply, feeling his irritation bubbling inside of him retreat like a scared animal, afraid to come out. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

He wipes the blood off with a towel, then throws it into the laundry. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

He\u2019s beginning to feel calm again when a thought disturbs his peace and quiet. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cJust like you were so worried about me, right?\u201d  <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

His son\u2019s words echo in his mind. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

There is so much to unpack within them. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

There\u2019s the indication that he doesn\u2019t care about either of them. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Not true.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

There\u2019s the undertones of lasting anger. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Shouldn\u2019t be true. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

There\u2019s the fake compassion that came before them. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Can\u2019t be true. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Because it\u2019s fake like plastic, fake like his son\u2019s look of admiration with spite hidden beneath it. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Every piece is different, but they have one thing in common. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Lie. Lie. Lie. <\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

That kid was lying, the man thinks. For sure. How could he not know?  It was Fineas\u2019 own girlfriend who left, after all….<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":36,"featured_media":1266,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1265","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blueandread.asbarcelona.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1265","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blueandread.asbarcelona.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blueandread.asbarcelona.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blueandread.asbarcelona.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/36"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blueandread.asbarcelona.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1265"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/blueandread.asbarcelona.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1265\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1315,"href":"https:\/\/blueandread.asbarcelona.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1265\/revisions\/1315"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blueandread.asbarcelona.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/1266"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blueandread.asbarcelona.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1265"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blueandread.asbarcelona.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1265"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blueandread.asbarcelona.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1265"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}