The Fight Within (48 page)

“Awww man, please. Save that after school special shit! I saw how you were working that punching bag over!” The boy burst out laughing, causing him to do the same. “You pretty damn good.”

“Thanks.” Sean lowered his head and grinned. “Yeah, never said I lost my passion to fight… I just did it in a more constructive manner is all. It had gotten to a point where in school, I was no longer just defending myself, Brian. The
bullied
had turned into the
bully
—that wasn’t cool. It didn’t justify anything, ya know? I needed to find something else to do, so I did. I worked it to my advantage. Now, I get paid for it. People buy tickets to see me whoop on someone.” He grinned a bit wider. “I’m just not out here in the streets knocking guys out.” He laughed lightly, while Brian nodded in understanding. “The key to change is changing the tapes you play in your mind, then your patterns of behavior will follow. You have to make a habit of what you want in life.”

“What do you mean?”

“A habit is doing the same thing over and over until it comes natural to ya, right? A part of your nature.”

“Right.”

“Well, it’s easy for negativity to become a habit…like talkin’ back, being disrespectful to your parents when you’re a minor.”

Brian looked away, as if not wanting to hear the truth, to have the magnifying glass swing so swiftly in his direction.

“And keeping everything bottled inside, taking things out on the wrong people. I did the same damn thing, man. Trust me, I get where you’re coming from. I’ve kept some pain bottled inside for a long ass time, Brian. My issue with the rich kids that bullied me was two-fold. I think I thought since I had a rich friend, after a while, they’d accept me. No, they never did, and I resented that. Then I had a situation with a woman I loved; again, the money shit came up and punched me right in the gut, but I was looking at it all wrong, all wrong, man. I’ve taken my anger out on the wrong damn people, and they didn’t deserve it. A prime example is this issue I’ve always had with rich people versus poor people. You just said your father throws money at you, as if that solves everything.”

Brian nodded, kept his eye on Sean, refusing to blink.

“I think it’s kinda wild how we both have this problem with money, but from different perspectives.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, let me explain it to you.” He swallowed and took a deep breath. “In my mind, if someone had money, they were automatically bad. I didn’t know what the hell they had to go through to get that money, how their personal lives were, none of that!” His voice rose as his self-actualization caused him to warm with a wave of shame and anger. “Your mother helped me with this. I really had no idea how I was letting that gnaw at me, and how it was coming out, being projected as it consumed me. I coulda lost her before I even had her if I didn’t take a long look at myself. That is just one of the
many
reasons why I love her… I came to her broken, not asking for repairs, Brian. But my heart was asking to be loved, so I could fix my
damn
self.” He pointed to his chest.

The boy glared at him, as if the message wasn’t computing.

“I basically assumed your mother was some pampered housewife, or some rich woman who felt she had something to prove. I was attracted to her though, so much so, I pushed past that, treatin’ it like some handicap she had… That was crazy, but regardless, I approached her anyway, although deep inside, I still didn’t trust her because of her socio-economic status, or what I perceived it to be. I judged her in advance, didn’t even know anything about her. That’s the type of thing I’m talking about, Brian. I painted her to be someone she wasn’t, and yet, I hated when people would do the same thing to me… I was a hypocrite.”

“Okay, I get it now.”

“I was judgmental and unfair and a number of other things, too. Those were
my
issues,” he said, pointing to himself, “that I imposed on your mother and unfortunately, over the course of my life, I saw things around me that helped reiterate my hatred for wealthy people. As your mother said to me once, people are people. There are good rich people and pissy ass poor people. No one is good or bad based on their socio-economic ranking alone. Money don’t make the man, but poverty doesn’t always build character, either.”

“My mother didn’t have shit growin’ up.” The boy uncurled his back as he prepared to set him straight. Sean already knew this information, but he gave the boy the floor anyway. “She had to pay for everything by herself. She didn’t have any money until after she graduated college, and then she got a good job after a few years, but it was all uphill, man,” he explained. “She and my father built something, and regardless of what he says, my mother makes money, too, and has always held it down. She earned every penny, too! Sometimes she be online or on the phone at like two in the morning, hustling, making that paper. She takes care of her family. She’ll be talking with clients and some of ’em are real spoiled!”

“Don’t I know it.” Sean nodded.

“They call at dinner time, like she just supposed to stop what she is doing with us and talk to them about carpets ’nd shit. Like the color of their floors is a life or death matter. I hate that. So damn entitled! Like she waitin’ around all day to talk to them about decorations and flooring, like she has no life outside of their fuckin’ pillow shams!”

Sean couldn’t help but nod in affirmation and chuckle.

“But she tells them she has to call them back, that she is cooking dinner for her family or sitting down with us, because she doesn’t play that. And then when it’s over, she’ll call them right back and handles her business. Nothing came before us… not money, not her job, zilch… and then, one day she was spending a little less time with Asia and me and I knew then,
someone
had her attention.” He side-eyed Sean, who didn’t suppress his smirk. “I like you, man…and you seem good for my mother. I don’t know if it is because of you or not, but she listens better now, too. I think maybe you both are good for each other, though I could be wrong. Sometimes people only let you see what they want you to see.” He shrugged.

“Brian, you and I are getting to know each other a bit more each day, and that’s what’s important. I’m glad you came down here, trusted me enough to give me a chance to listen to you, offer my perspective.”

Brian averted his eyes, looking a bit embarrassed from his assertion, although a half-smile did form on his face.

“I like you and Asia. You’re both really good kids. You’re just going through a difficult time and sometimes only another guy can understand how you feel. Not being sexist, it’s just the truth.”

Brian nodded in agreement.

“So.” Sean leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. “What do you plan to do about your dad? Have you told him how you feel?”

Brian’s eyes narrowed as his lips twisted to the side in his customary way. The boy stared down at his feet.

“Nah, he wouldn’t listen to me. Or he’d just hear what he wants to. I’ve tried to talk to him, but it goes in one ear and out the other.”

“But have you tried to talk to him like you did with me just now?”

The boy scratched the side of his left eyelid and yawned. “No, but my father acts like he doesn’t do shit wrong, Sean. He acts like he’s invincible. He was shocked when my mother told him to get his ass out. I’ll never forget that night.” The boy’s voice grew weak, as if he were almost afraid to open that door, lest he relive the trauma. “I was mad at her for that, but happy she did it too, if that makes any sense.”

“It does. I get it.”

“He would talk to her all crazy, like I said. He was real disrespectful.”

…Maybe that’s why you thought you could do it, too…

“When he was still at home, I would tell him to stop, and he and I got into it a couple times, like physical altercations, shit like that. It got real heated. She and Asia would have to break us apart… I meant what I said earlier, man. I hate him.”

“No, you don’t. You love him, that’s why you are so hurt by how he’s been treating you. If you hated him, you’d no longer care.”

“I suppose you might be right… I’ve decided to not have anything else to do with him though. I’ve made up my mind.” He crossed his arms indignantly over his chest. “That’s how I’m going to make it through.”

“How can you do that? I mean,” Sean said with a shrug, “he has visitation rights, and you’re still living at home.”

“The last couple of days I haven’t been calling him. He is used to me calling him every day, even though typically I just get the voicemail or him rushing me off the phone as soon as he says, ‘hello.’ I’m just sick of it all. I’d be better off having a dad in prison, or some shit like that. At least then he’d have an excuse for not being active in my life, doin’ what he was supposed to do!”

“Has he tried to call you?”

“Nope.” The boy clicked his tongue against his inner jaw in his habitual way, while wearing a crooked smirk to hide more bubbling pain and hurt. “He probably hasn’t even noticed… Nope,” he repeated softly, like a delayed echo, as he rose to his feet. Sean followed suit and grabbed the boy by both arms, hard, stopping him from walking away.

“You’re not just going to come all the way over here, tell me this stuff and walk out of here.” He made the boy face him. Brian slowly lifted his head, meeting eyes with him. “Let me tell you something. I don’t know what’s going to happen between your mother and I, Brian,” he said, swallowing over a lump in his throat. “What I
do
know is that we have a good thing going, we love one another, we respect one another, and we have a lot in common. We have fun, and I’m serious when I tell you this, I love you and Asia, too! I think about you both every damned day! I wonder how you’re doing, all of that.”

“I know.” Brian laughed lightly. “You send me those text jokes every now and again.

“That’s right,” Sean grinned when the boy reminded him. The texting had become second nature to him. “It’s my way of sayin’ I’m thinking about you, and that you’re important to me. Look,” he sighed, released the boy, and ran his hand down his face, “I know I’m not your father. I know I’m just your mom’s boyfriend, but I want you to know that you can come and talk to me like this
anytime
you want. You can tell me things and know that unless your life is in danger, I would
never
in a million years repeat
anything
you share with me with anyone. Do you understand me?”

The boy paused for a moment, then nodded.

“Okay.”

“I don’t care what it is, Brian…this is a no-judgment zone. If you’re having some sort of problem, and you think you can’t talk to Treasure or one of your friends about it, I ask, no…I encourage and just about
beg
you to come to me. I’m a lot of shit that ain’t so great,” they both laughed, “but one thing I
am
good at is listening. I hear what people say, and what people don’t say. I’m good at it because for me, it’s the key to
really
understanding people that need to be heard, especially children.”

“Okay, I hear you.”

“Do you promise to consider me should you need to vent, shoot the shit, or just get an opinion?”

“Yeah, I promise.” The boy offered a lopsided smile.

“Good, now get your lying ass back in school.”

Brian burst out laughing. “I was tellin’ the truth! We really
did
get out early today, man!”

“Okay, well, just making sure.” He reached for him once again and ran his hand over his shoulder. “Look, next week, I will make an appointment for you at my friend’s studio. This time, it will be just you and him.”

“Are you serious?”

“Of course I am. I know that’s what you like. You need to express that creativity, use it. Your mother put one of your CDs in my car a long time ago…you’re good, very good! I knew that before I took you to the studio. The only problem is, you don’t have quality equipment.”

“I know.” Brian rolled his eyes. “I got cheap shit, like my Mirko MK2 and other stuff. I mean,” he shrugged, “it does the trick, but I refused to ask my mom and dad for the money. This is something I wanted to do for myself, you know?”

“I get that, and it is really admirable of you, actually. But in the meantime, you need to be in an environment that can really help you hone your skills and produce a more quality sound. Once you start selling beats, you can initially use that money to buy better stuff, but you have to have better sounding stuff
first
before you can do that. You’re really talented, and it needs to shine.”

“I’m surprised you know about this stuff, man!” Brian giggled. “You just don’t look like the type.”

Sean smirked and pointed at him. “That’s exactly why you should never be like how I used to be.”

“…And what was that?”

“Judging a book, or in this case, a person, by their cover…their appearance. Everything that glitters isn’t gold and everything that looks broken and torn apart isn’t worthless. Sometimes it’s a treasure in disguise…”

‡