I Am Human (bxb)

The Meeting

"You ready?" Aunt Tracy called from the hallway as I debated over which black shirt to wear.

"Almost!" I yelled back at her. I looked at my thin body in my bedroom mirror, and what I saw staring back looked like a ghost. I saw a short, too-skinny boy with twig arms and twig legs, with stringy, long, sickly black hair and sheet white skin with bags under the eyes. Was this what other people saw when they looked at me? Was this how Kai saw me? Kai. Even in the moments before I go see my birth mother whom I have practically never met before I am thinking of him. What is he doing right now? His he thinking of me? Has he been crying over me like I have been crying over him? Does he have this numb feeling in his chest because he knows he's let something too good slip away? Or does he think he's done the right thing? Is he happier without me?

"Jasper! Come on!" I am pulled out of my thoughts and snap back to my task at hand. I put on the plain black button up and run out my room.

As we arrive at the White Spot I see a large line up in front of the counter. Aunt Tracy goes up to the hostess and tells her that she has a reservation for three with Claire. My mom's name Claire, how did I not remember that? Have I just not wanted to think about her that much, that I forgot her name? The pit in my stomach had been growing again and as the hostess nods and starts to motion for us to follow her I begin to feel nauseous. I cringe as I remember the last time my stress felt like this, I was starting to feel like a ticking time bomb, like any moment I could blow up. But as I stood frozen,  Aunt Tracy grabbed my hand and squeezed it, bringing warmth to my stone cold body and helping ease my nerves. We followed the hostess to the back of the restaurant and headed right towards a table where a blond woman sat with her face stuffed in a menu. She had long stringy blond hair like mine if I didn't dye it, and had thin features, almost anorexic looking, also like me, her nose was cute and pudgy though, so I thought to myself that I must have gotten my thin long nose from my birth father. We walked up to her table and she looked up from the menu she had been holding. Her crystal blue eyes that shone brightly shot right to my dark blue ones and her small mouth dropped open. Aunt Tracy thanked the Hostess and took a seat at the table, but I was still frozen standing still as my birth mother started open mouthed at me for the first time in almost sixteen years. 

"Hi." I whispered, I couldn't take my eyes off of her either. She looked a lot like me, her pale skin, tiny frame, feminine statue. But she also looked beaten down by years of substance abuse, her eyelids were sloped, her anorexic like body was painful to look at and her skin was wrinkled and scarred from drugs. She looked like an addict, I wondered how she got in here without being thrown out for looking like a homeless woman. 

"Hello." Her raspy voice said quietly  after mine. I blinked and took a seat next to Aunt Tracy and across from my birth mother. After another moment she looked away from me and took in Aunt Tracy who had been watching us closely.

"You look older, Trace." She said in a clear smoker's voice.

"Heh," Aunt Tracy scoffed, "You do too Claire." The awkward silence that followed was thankfully interrupted by a waiter bringing us all waters. 

"So Jasper," She turned to look at me again as she took a sip from the glass. Her nails were painted neon pink which matched the tight dress she had on. I looked up to her sad eyes as she continued, "Tell me about yourself." I blinked at the vague question, wondering where to start when she added, "Do you sing?"

"Uh, no... But I play guitar and bass. I wish I could sing." She smiled and a raspy laugh escaped from her.

"Your father, Adrian, he was a lead singer in a punk band, you look a lot like him you know."

"Adrian?" I whispered. I had the same middle name as my father, how had I not known the name of my father? Again, I couldn't believe that I hadn't remembered, but then again I had always resented my parents for being how they were and not being able to love me and raise me as Aunt Tracy had done in their place.

"Yeah, he was a hot one, a real catch." She winked and I could tell that Aunt Tracy was getting uncomfortable beside me. "Do you have a girlfriend? Hot stuff like you must have one." I gulped again and a tear stung behind my eye, struggling to stay hidden.

"Ugh, no." I said uncomfortably, shifting in my seat.

"Sensitive topic." Aunt Tracy chimed in and My birth mom, Claire, smiled.

"Oh! I love gossip!" She said excitedly not getting the hint, "Tell me all about her! Is she a cutie? I bet she is, did you break her heart? You look like  a heart breaker." All her talk seemed to be centered around appearance, did she not see that I was writhing in my seat, that I was almost physically pained by this topic? Or was all that flying over her head because her brain was so fucked up from all the drugs and alcohol?

"No." Was my reply, it seemed to shut her down for a moment until she turned to Aunt Tracy.

"He's a cute one. You didn't teach him any manners though did yeh? At least he got his looks from me?" Aunt Tracy clenched her jaw and spat out a fake laugh probably praying for the night to end.

"So how have you been?" Aunt Tracy asked her.

"Ahhh, like I said on the phone, I'm five months sober, so I'm doing okay I guess. I just always crave a drink or a fix yah know?"

"Well it's good you're sober, you can finally talk to your son." She said bitterly. I had a feeling that Aunt Tracy was completely appalled and disturbed by the fact that Claire could have a child and not really care to take responsibility. In all truth, after meeting her, I was too. She was so far gone, it was only a matter of time before she probably went back to drugs and overdosed, it was a miracle that she hadn't already.    

"Yah, so Jasper... What do you like to do? Do you play an instrument?" I was confused, hadn't she heard what I said before when she asked me? Did she even care? Was she listening, or was she forgetting?

"Yeah, guitar..." I repeated bitterly.

"Sing?" She said again, looking down at her nails.

"No." I said in disbelief.

"You know," she spoke, "You look a lot like your father." Now she was just repeating the same exact things; she really was messed up.

"You said." 

"Oh!? Did I? Did I tell you how I met your father?" She said raising her gaze up to my face.

"No..."

"Well then! We met at a punk concert that he was performing at. He was so hot I thought to myself that I just needed to have a piece of him, if you know what I mean." She winked at me and the pit in my stomach began to grow and grow again. "And so after his show I sneaked back stage with some... uh, stuff... and after that we hit the ground. He was really good, I mean... probably the best night I ever had-"

"Okay, That's enough." Aunt Tracy cut in, thank God. I was beside myself with anger. I hated her.

All she seemed to care about was drugs, sex and what it took to get there. I bet she was lying when she said she wanted to see me, I bet she just wanted a reason to ask Aunt Tracy for some money.

"I gotta go to the bathroom." I mumbled as I got up to leave. Aunt Tracy shot me a worried glance as I walked away from the table. I needed to get out of there, so I quickly walked to the men's washroom and sat in a stall.

Why was my life unraveling so quickly? Why did It have to all happen at once... I couldn't handle anymore. I brought my hands up to my face and I let out a sob. Soon my whole body was trembling and I felt like my world was collapsing inside out.