WHEN YOU HEAL

DYLAN

While stalking Lee, Sana discovered he once had a music label. According to the few news articles, Sana found the man even began to make a name for himself in the electro scene, and one day everything stopped.

Why?

When Sana listened to the playlists on Lee's Spotify, notably two called Dylan and Ode to Camille, the reason became apparent. The man's life changed the day Dylan, who Sana assumed was his child, was born.

The Ode to Camille playlist could be called love and hate. Moby Porcelain, Coldplay's Trouble, The weekend Save Your Tears were the few tortured playlist titles.

Dylan's playlist songs were happiness in the making, Bjork It's All So Quiet, Pharell Happy, Alanis Morrisette Thank You, Katrina And The Waves Walking On Sunshine, yes, Dylan was Lee's bowl of fresh air.

Instead of running, Sana walked. She read the activity was just as efficient see even better than doing hardcore cardio. Sana had a few pounds to lose to enter the BMI safe zone. The results began to appear. She felt like a sculpture chipped into her body parts as it curved in places it never had.

If someone asked Sana which of the two physiques she preferred, she would say she loved the bigger her with healthy stats.

Obsessed by being the incarnation of Winston's desires, the woman lost her way with her straight baton figure. Despite incidents she now considered as minor, she was beginning to find the balance and appreciating herself.

According to health magazines and Cosmo, this assurance meant she threaded on the path of healing and that sometime soon; she could potentially attract someone. As it was a known fact, people avoided those with self-hatred and trust issues.

Sana worked on solving both. Since her rupture, she tried to re-enter the dating arena without success.

Her failures were due to the fact she wasn't ready. She would endlessly place details about Winston during conversations. Her dates looked at their watch and found a pretext to leave.

Tinder only reeled in men with a big girl fetishism. After three trials, Sana quit; she deserved better.

A year later, Sana hoped she would meet someone for whom she would wish to create a playlist.

"Dylan, Dylan," Lee yanked off the head phone's, "I've been calling you for the last five minutes."

The boy put Fortnite on pause, "what?"

"Dinner is ready."

Lee went down to the table set for two. It was their moment.

The boy sat down two minutes after Lee in front of a plate of carbonara pasta.

The lighting gave Lee the occasion to see his son's face.

His light brown hair, which he wore long, was tied in a knot and showing his shaved sides. A black dot Lee saw for the first time shone on his ear.

Dylan resembled his mother, but he had his father's blue eyes. If it wasn't for the shape of them, one could not tell he was Eurasian.

"When did you get that?"

"Get what?"

Lee pointed towards his ear with his fork.

"Two weeks ago."

They lived in the same house, yet Lee missed the obvious.

Dylan stayed with him after his divorce, but the boy had his fair share of trouble. He went through the house back and forths. His father descent, Dylan was shocked to see his father become a smoker.

Like a child, Lee would lie when his son asked what the smell was. During a year, Dylan chaperoned his father. He was the one who knocked on his studio door, yelling for Lee to come down to dinner.

Now things were back in order. Dylan could portray his role as a teen and his father as a different man but still his father.

"Who accompanied you? You need to have a parent's authorization."

"Mom, she said it was fine. She and Camille got matching ones on their ring finger. "

Of course, Camille played the cool one while making Lee resemble the old and has-been dad.

Lee's neurons were blown away by the fact the woman who fainted in front of a vaccination needle got a tattoo.

The baffled man muttered something under his breath before saying, "I could have gone with you."

Dylan cocked a brow.

His father was open-minded about many things, but Lee had a solid aversion to piercings or tattoos even though he worked for a company where most retail staff harbored such works.

"Next time then," Dylan answered.

"What, you want more?"

"I want a helix and the spetum."

"You can't wear them at school."

"I'll cover them up."

Lee nodded; he had to be compliant. After Dylan caught him smoking, the man decided to see a therapist who confirmed everything Lee already knew. Stress and anxiety ate him up. He had anger issues which manifested in his harsh words. Lee realized how he stole his son's youth with his attitude that made the child worry for him. He took it upon himself to bridge the gap between him and Dylan.

His son remained his most outstanding achievement, and Lee made any effort for him.

"Next time you want one, ask me," understanding Lee said before letting out his inner commentator, "honestly, Dylan, why pay to become a cow with more holes than a sieve?"

The boy smiled and twirled some pasta on his fork, "Dad, did you get the invitation?"

Lee stared up at his son, "for?"

"The wedding."

Lee nodded while he munched.

"Will you come?"

"Do you really want me there?"

"Yes, and so does mom and Janet."

Lee took a napkin, wiped his mouth, sniffed, and leaned back on his chair, "I bet they do."

"Dad, mom wants you to be present."

"It's weird she's the only one who hasn't asked me."

"She'll probably do it when you drop me off."

"Dylan, it's," Lee paused, "it's difficult for me to let her go. Do you understand?"

"I know, but mom needs to know you're moving on and you're okay. We're a family, you, mom, Janet, and I."

Lee's stare traveled over his son's face, calm, almost stoic; Dylan had Camille's peaceful temperament. He took things better than his father and accepted his mother's coming out without difficulty. Lee imagined it was a generation thing.

The father saw in his son's stare; the boy did not ask him to come to torture him. Dylan, too needed to feel and see his father turned the page.

"I'll think about it, now eat."

Dylan pushed no further. Getting a perhaps out of Lee was better than him blatantly saying no.