“…This shouldn’t surprise you! If you know him it’s quite obvious. But you don’t know him. You barely see your son at all!”

“Hold on! I’m the one making money for this house-old! And you complain to me that I’m not around enough! I have a prosperous practice! I do important work, and make sure that you can live in this nice house and that your son has a roof over his head and clothes on his back-“

“Stop talking like a laywer and start talking like a father, damnit! How can you act like this towards him? This is important to him, and you treat it like- like he has a disease that can be cured.”

“All I suggested is that we take him to a shrink. It’s not out of the question, there’s obviously something wrong with him, he’s deluded or, or something. There’s no way any son of mine could really be a fairy”

There was the harsh sound of flesh on flesh, and a startled gasp.

“That” His mother’s voice said, sounding furious, “Is for calling our son a name like that. How old are you? HE’S YOUR CHILD. Take some responsibility. What ever happened to ‘unconditional love’?”

“Godamnit, is it to much to ask that my wife and son be normal? Like Taylor’s or James’ or Allen’s? They have nice ordinary wives who keep the house nice and host parties and bring the kids to baseball games and don’t make strange sculptures or paint the sky on the walls of the house! Their children are normal too; the boys play baseball or soccer and the girls take gymnastics or ballet and they all go to school and get good grades! They aren’t failing English and doing college level mathematics and have no friends other than strangers who they talk to on the internet! My colleagues’ children aren’t gay!”

“If that’s how you feel about it then leave! Go find that ‘normal’ wife and those ‘normal’ children you want so dearly, because they certainly aren’t HERE! And you know what? If you don’t find them, it’s because they don’t exist normality is an illusion, and if you want to go chasing illusions, that’s fine by me, but I don’t want to see your sorry face here ever again!”

“Fine! You most certainly won’t! You and that little queer can just survive on your goddamn own, and let’s see how long you can support him selling your so-called ‘art’! Goodbye, Adele.”
“