Chapter Text
Stolas regretted wearing just a short sleeved shirt on his morning run. His arms sported goosebumps, and his ears stung as the bitter wind made its first appearance of the season. Still, he was glad to be out in the fresh air, a welcome contrast to the suffocating atmosphere of his home. After another restless night on the couch anxiously fretting and feeling stung from Octavia’s rejection to his apology, he was running on empty. Quite literally, too, as he’d left the apartment with nothing more than himself and his phone, and he was now very dehydrated. How long he had been running he didn’t know, but the winter sun was starting to rise above the tree-lined park, the same one he came to with Blitzø on their second session together. Even in such a short space of time he felt the benefits of his workouts, his muscles and cardiovascular system capable of going longer distances before needing a break. It calmed his mind, too, focusing on the sounds of nature and hums of city life in the background, making him more present in the moment.
He slowed down his pace to a quick walk, the cold air turning every breath into mist before dissolving into the atmosphere. He checked his watch; he had one hour before he had to be out the door to work, so he should have been making his way back home. Except his home was not an inviting place to be in anymore, and he only had himself to blame for that. His thoughts switched to another idea: Blitzø. His place had become a second home to him where he could crash and feel safe when things got too much…but, he didn’t have that either. He’d not heard from him in the two days since their disagreement, too chicken to message him first. He was certain he would not be welcome if he randomly showed up at his apartment today. So, with no other options, he made his way back home, praying he could jump in the shower, have a quick coffee, and be out the door without any fuss.
Thankfully (which was a depressing thought in itself), Stella and Via paid him no mind, going about their morning routines like he wasn’t there, and he made no effort to change that. The only interaction he did have — a quick wave to Via as he left — was met with a look of anger, a dagger to his already wounded heart. Oh, how he wished he could help her see the full picture, to understand why this tremulous time now would make way for a positive, healthier future for the both of them. But with Stella’s manipulative narrative being spread through to Via and soon, their extended family, he had no chance. He had to do something, and fast. But first, he had a job to do.
One lesson and multiple coffees later, he was giving his classroom a tidy in his free period before the next set of students decimated it when he heard his phone ringing inside his bag, focusing his attention. He ran to pick it up, his mind quickly going into overdrive of who it may be. Could it be…Blitzø? Finally checking in on him after their argument? Calling to apologise and ask him out on —
No! He was a fool for thinking such hopeful things, he berated himself, and upon looking at the caller ID, he was reminded as such. In actuality, the name sent a chill down his spine, raising the hairs on his arms like lightning before a storm:
“Dad?”
“Hello, Stolas.”
It had been over six months since he had last been in contact with his parents (a text message wishing him a happy birthday), and he preferred to keep it that way. They’d had such a tight hold on his upbringing, keeping his circle of influence to the people they associated with. It was only once Octavia was born did he realise how deeply entrenched he was, being coerced into marrying Stella to keep the peace between their families. Even where they lived was chosen for them — or, rather, where Stella wanted to live, because, according to his parents, it was his fault Octavia was born, ‘ruining’ the trajectory of their families by having to bring up a child instead of taking over their families’ businesses. He already received enough grief from Stella and her family over it, so distancing himself from his parents when he no longer needed their financial support had become paramount. Therefore, his father calling him out of the blue was rather concerning.
“Are you alright? How is mum?”
“We are fine, thank you. Rather, this call is about you.”
He felt the colour drain from his face. Fuck.
“I have just gotten off the phone with Stella, and she has made me aware of your wish to file for divorce. Is this true?”
For heaven’s sake! He groaned inwardly, attempting to keep himself composed. Why did Stella think she had the right to tell his parents of their divorce? And on the phone?! Well, he had no choice but to deal with it now, thanks to Stella.
“Yes.”
“And the reason is because you cheated on her…with a man?”
Here we go…“Yes.”
“Oh, Stolas, I thought we had raised you to be better than that,” his father said despondently. Yeah, of course the main issue to him was that he was gay. He wasn’t surprised; his family wasn’t exactly…accepting of people that didn’t meet their…standards. Probably why he’d pushed down those feelings for so long, terrified of acting on them and being ostracized.
“Yes, and I take full responsibility for that, but you have to understand this is not a one-sided matter. Stella has her own misgivings which I could not ignore any longer.”
“And your solution to this was to cheat? You have a child!”
“I know what I did!” He raised his voice. “But shocking as it may seem, Stella has never given two shits about me, or our marriage. The only reason we even got married was to keep you happy!”
“Because you two idiots had a child out of wedlock! It’s embarrassing, Stolas!” he hissed.
“That was almost ten years ago, so if you’re still ashamed of that then that’s your problem, not mine. Not anymore.”
“You are quite right. However, Stella’s family are one of our key business partners, and I cannot have this divorce jeopardizing that relationship. Money is on the line here, not just our reputation. Therefore, I do not want to hear any objections to Stella’s stipulations on the divorce so we can move this along quickly and pain free, understood?”
Of course, this was what the call was about! He didn’t really care about his son’s broken relationship, no, he was just worried his business partners would ditch him! The longer the conversation went on, the more assured he was in his decision. He had to leave this deceitful, materialistic empire built on entitlement, a family chained to legacy, not merit.
“Fine, take all my money. I don’t need it anyway. Via is all I care about,” he asserted.
“Well, about that. Stella was saying that things have been very tense at home and Via has been affected badly by all of this, so I strongly suggest you move out as soon as possible.”
His eyes went round in horror.
“Move out? Where?”
“Anywhere! I thought you were an adult, able to stand on your own two feet?”
“I am! But what about Via? She needs me to take her to school and-“
“I’m sure we can arrange extra help for Stella. But until the custody schedule has been finalized, we think it would be best for everyone if you kept a distance. Give everyone space.”
“We? Hold on, was this Stella’s idea? And she’s using you to deliver the message?”
“Poor thing was so distraught when she called, I felt it only right to help out.”
He let out a hollow laugh, “But don’t you see? This is all part of her plan! I bet she never told you how she verbally abused me every day? How she attempted to hit me? She isn’t innocent!”
“Hmm…she may not be…but out of the two of you, she will keep Via safe and sound, being the wholesome parent she needs right now.”
If he hadn’t been stuck inside his classroom in earshot of being heard by students and other teachers he would have lost the last fibre of patience he had for his father and this fucking family he was born into and screamed at him down the phone. How dare he accuse him of not being wholesome? And what did that really matter? So what if he loved another man? So what if he wanted more out of life than tea parties and ski trips and —
“Stolas, are you still there?”
His fathers voice pulled him back to reality. “When does Stella want me out?” he asked point blankly.
“By the end of next week.”
“Generous.” He rubbed his forehead. After the inevitable disaster that tomorrow was going to be he’d have to start packing his belongings. “That reminds me, will we be seeing you at Via’s birthday party tomorrow? I believe she sent you an invitation.”
“Oh, unfortunately we are out of town at a conference. Though, I’m not sure a children’s party would be…ahem...up our street.”
He rolled his eyes. That was exactly the answer he expected. They’d never shown much interest in Via, only appearing at larger family occasions and showering her with gifts to placate their lack of affection for their only granddaughter. Whatever, it was their loss.
“Well, if that is all then I must be off, I have a class to teach.”
“Very well. I will be in touch if I hear any more issues relating to the divorce.”
He hung up before he had a change to say goodbye, which was probably a good thing because he suddenly felt like shit. His legs had turned to jelly, forcing him to sit down and take deep breaths. It felt like a ton of bricks had dropped on top of him, the enormity of the conversation suddenly catching up to him. He was proud of himself for standing up to his father, but that was overshadowed by Stella’s conniving plan to have him vacate his own, and as soon as possible. It’s not like he hadn’t considered moving, one of them would have to eventually, but he’d wanted to do it gradually, giving himself time to find a place that would suit both himself and Via (and, maybe, Blitzø one day…). But now he had less time, less budget, and significantly more eyes watching him in the process. He mumbled profanities under his breath, and his heart rate started steadying, in good time too. The school bell rang, and his next students came barrelling through the door, sitting themselves down for another riveting hour of dissecting Shakespeare. He took a deep breath and leaned down to his bag. He was about to put his phone away when he stopped short, hesitating. A few seconds to spare, he navigated to the photos app and found what he was looking for.
It was a sneaky photo he had taken after Blitzø stayed the night at his apartment. Blitzø was sound asleep with the side with his scars visible, but so were the tattoos that ran down his muscular arm, his upper body shirtless underneath the linen covers. He looked peaceful, his face soft and lips slightly open as he took restful breaths in and out. And, next to him was Stolas, holding his arm up to take the selfie, lying as close to Blitzø as possible without waking him. He was smiling sleepily staring at the camera as he basked in the moment. In the present, he let time slip away, the weight of the present giving way to the lightness of that remembered joy. This, he reminded himself, was what he was fighting for.
For pure, unadulterated, happiness.
He just hoped Blitzø still felt the same.
“Daaaammm, this is fancy! This is for a kid’s party right? Not a drug dealer's wedding?”
“Blitzø! Keep your voice down!”
“Hey, we have every right to be here as much as the next rich schmuck!”
“Well, seeing as you weren’t invited, I’d say we aren’t.”
“Shut your hole, Mox, get in here.”
Blitzø grabbed onto the collar of Moxxie’s collared shirt and dragged him into a restroom, which, thankfully, was empty.
“Did you recognise anyone?” Moxxie asked, straightening up his dishevelled tie.
“Nah, according to Fizz the party doesn’t start until three, so we got time to spare.”
“Right…” Moxxie drawled, shaking his head “So, wait, remind me again…what are we doing here? All Stolas asked for was Fizz, and you got him!”
“Because, this is more than just a simple favor. We, my friend…” He turned to face the mirror, admiring his very appropriately themed outfit of choice. He looked at himself and smiled — not out of vanity, but with a clear, unwavering bad-assery.
“…are doin’ a Shrek.”