“Zo?”
“Hey,” she called from her room.
A moment later she stepped outside in sweats and a baggy t-shirt. She had obviously just had a bath because her hair was wet and yet she still managed to look amazing.
“Composing?”
“A little,” she nodded. “Just trying to clean up a few of my melodies. How was your day?”
I paused. “Good,” I nodded.
“Really?” she asked, coming forward. “You look… tired.”
I wasn’t sure if tired was the word she wanted to go for or if she was just being polite. “I’m fine,” I said. “Just a little… preoccupied.”
“About what?” Zoey asked as she sat down on the couch and I joined her a moment later.
“It’s weird,” I said. “Sometimes my father gets in my head and… I can’t seem to shake him off.”
Zoey raised her eyebrows. “You’ve never mentioned your father to me before. In fact… you never mention your family at all.”
“Really?”
“I don’t even know if you have brothers or sisters.”
“Only child,” I said.
“Wow.”
“Does that surprise you?”
“A little,” Zoey nodded. “For some reason, I thought you had siblings.”
“I wish I did, to be honest,” I said. “Maybe then I wouldn’t feel…”
“Feel what?” Zoey asked.
“Nothing,” I said quickly, feeling embarrassed.
“Come on,” Zoey said. “Talk to me. It won’t kill you.”
I realized that if there were anyone out there I could actually talk to, it would be Zoey. I turned to her and took a deep breath.
“My parents disowned me… so to speak.”
“Oh my God,” Zoey said, looking at me sympathetically. “Why?”
“Because I dared to dream my own dreams,” I said. “At least that is why I maintained they cut me off. Their reason is that I turned my back on my potential and opted to go to art school instead of becoming a doctor like my father.”
“Seriously?” Zoey said, looking shocked. “That’s the reason they cut you off?”
“Crazy right?” I nodded. “This is the twenty-first century after all. And they’re still clinging to all these archaic belief systems. You would think that they could summon up a little understanding for their only child. But no… my parents are different. They’re rigid and cruel and hard-hearted.”
Zoey didn’t say anything, she just listened to me talk, and I realized that now that I had started, I could go on and it didn’t feel weird to talk about in any way.
“My father is the kind of man who plans everything out. Everything has to be perfect the entire time, not just career-wise. Even his life has to be in order. His house has to look perfect; his wife has to be perfect… his son… of all things, his son. I was always a disappointment to him.
“I was never into sports even though I was good at them growing up. I was never interested in the types of shows that other kids were into either. I liked all these old artsy movies that dad never understood. My friends were all weird and quirky, and dad hated all of them. He tried to mold me into the kind of kid he would be proud to show off to his circle of friends and colleagues, but even when he introduced me to people, I never followed the script.