𝚁𝚊𝚗𝚋𝚘𝚘'𝚜 𝙻𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚂𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛

Chapter 7

[Ranboo's pov - Wednesday, 2am]

It's time for lore. My dad wasn't here all day. As much as I hoped that he doesn't come home and interrupt the lore streams, I was also worried for his well being. I joined the vc that Techno was in and we talked for a while, mostly about how the stream was 2am for us. A few minutes later, Tommy and Seapeekay joined the call.

"Tubbo and Aimsey are streaming," Tommy said, tone of voice serious. "When are you guys going to start?"

His voice was always like that whenever we did lore but I could tell it was laced with excitement.

"I'll be starting my stream after Ranboo leaves to join Tubbo and Aimsey's vc," Techno replied.

Seapeekay left the call not long after to start his own stream and talk to his chat before any lore takes place. I knew I wasn't playing an important role this stream, it was just c!Ghostboo making an appearance. Just a backup character we planned to have.

What I feared came true. My dad came home. Thankfully, my headphones were not covering both of my ears, so I heard the front door open and close.

"Ranboo, join their vc in another two minutes, Techno and I will start our stream then," Tommy told me.

I bit my lip nervously, not knowing whether I should listen to Tommy or check on my dad.

The air was suddenly rent by the sound of breaking glass. I pushed the headphones off of my head and left my room, knowing this never heralds anything good. I don't think a year went by without the sound of something smashing into a thousand glittering fragments.

I stood by the stairs and scrutinized what happened. By the looks of it, my dad was drunk. No surprise there, of course. He was laying at the bottom of the stairs as chunks of glass along with liquid was all over the floor. I ran over to him, carefully making sure I don't step on glass.

"Jesus, what happened to you?" I asked him.

"What the fuck does it look like?" he slurred, holding onto a glass shard.

"You're going to hurt yourself," I told him, trying to take the glass from his hand.

He held it tightly, but so did I. He pulled it away from my hand and it flung across the room. He had quite the grip for a drunk. I violently closed my eyes when I felt a burning sensation on the palm of my hand. I ignored it, knowing that if I made a big deal out of it, my dad would too.

"Let me take you to your room," I said softly, helping him get to his feet then up the stairs.

"I don't need help," he said. "Especially from a lousy son."

I stayed quiet and helped him anyway.

lousy, that's all you are.

He tried to slam his room door shut, but I used my force to refrain him from doing so.

"What?" he asked, pulling his door back open.

"I'm going to clean up the glass and mop the floor."

"Yeah, you better."

"So don't come down. Go to bed, please."

"You don't tell me what to do."

"I just don't want you injured."

"Whatever," he sighed before closing the door.

"Love you. Goodnight, sweetheart."

"I love you too. Goodnight, Dad."

Feeling tears prick the corners of my eyes and roll down my cheeks, I wipe my face with both hands. God, things would've been so much better if Mom was still here.