𝐀 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐔𝐬

𝐗𝐗 - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐓𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐨𝐫

A/N: I did what I said I wouldn't do 😭 I wrote Sean's POV...
But here's some things to note: I spoke to some wiggas I know who are Sean-ish and had to rewrite half the chapter after that 💀

(the yt stans would never! I wrote one of your men better than you ever tried to write one of ours !)

And this is not an ode to Sean, as much as I love his face claim. There were a lot questions about him and ya know I love a well-rounded character. It was stronger than me, BUT stuff from this chapter will come up later and take part in the story.

⚠️ : only cuz it's really bad, I'll warn you guys that drugs and alcohol are prominent in this chapter. Also, mentions of suicide, so do tread lightly.

***

I think I'm addicted to naked pictures
And sittin' talking 'bout bitches that we almost had
I don't think I'm conscious of making monsters
Outta the women I sponsor 'til it all goes bad
But shit, it's all good

***

13 years ago...

RACONTEUR

Somewhere in the Bronx, some time in 1988, a 12-year old boy sat at the edge of his bed perusing the writing on the back of an unpaid bill: a simple, handwritten note left to him by his mother.

It read: "Well, your father's a bitch, so I guess you have to find me when you become a man- love, your Mother"

It was a perfect note if it's purpose was to display a mother's disassociation with motherhood, the mother in question being Carys D'Amato, a 26 year old fantasist who felt her life could be much better at the expense of numerous things.

She first held her child in her arms at the age of 14. She'd been through a painful pregnancy and a life-threatneing delivery, but felt from the boy in her arms an iridescent glow that promised to love her unconditionally every day it could. To spite her Italian-American family that had kicked her out their home at the discovery of her pregnancy, she named her baby boy Sean, the Irish take on John. After all, he had certainly taken on his Irish father's looks over her Mediterranean ones.

As Sean grew, Carys thought of how his glow began to fade, something he couldn't help growing up at the height of the Bronx's worst era. She saw how his father worked an honest job and barely made the rent every month. She'd even see her son run around with the other boys in the neighborhood, young black boys who had adopted him in their life because his mother made the best Alfredo dish in the area and everybody loved a good Alfredo sauce.

She saw this, amongst other things, and felt a fear grow within her. A fear of mediocrity. Her life was painfully ordinary, a basic script she knew by heart and she feared it'd become a hole she couldn't climb out of.

Then came a ladder. A rich man. No need for his name, face, age, although he was younger. He could've been anyone, someone, nobody. In any case, he swooped in like they do in the books, falling in love with Carys and her ways, convincing the woman to run away with him.

This may be the part that tripped young Sean up the most. The fact that his mother had placed him on one end of the balance, a stranger with money on the other, looked her son in the eye and chose a stranger. Sean's friends had mothers who'd turned down men time and time again for the sake of their children. Something cold ran true in this woman's blood and Sean may have been the first one to see it.