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Sacred & Profane Love, Baglione, 1602
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     In an ideal world, when a child receives a phone call from their parents they would expect to hear good news and as a result feel joy. In a realistic world, they expect news, but they can't predict whether it'll make them cry tears of happiness or tears of sorrow. In Josiah's world, when he gets calls from his parents he ignores them completely, because they almost always mean bad news. In order for him to talk to his parents, it would take one of his father's men and a chauffeur to drag and remove him from campus.

Luckily for him, that's exactly what he got.

     Sitting in the back of his father's black Mercedes, it looked as if Josiah had been kidnapped by his own blood. A large man with a gruff voice and stature twice the size of Josiah's drove listening to the song of silence, and with each second he grew increasingly frustrated with his lack of knowledge as to what the hell was going on.

     "I demand an explanation," he stated. "Tell me why my father needs to see me so urgently."

     Finally, he spoke. "Listen, kid. As much as I would love to tell you, I'm as in the dark as you are. I'm only doing my job, no need to kill the messenger."

     "You don't even have a message!"

     "Then don't kill the escort."

     He grimaced, wondering how his life ended up like this. Just the other day he was the perfect son, following each of his father's bids—chasing after Isaac in an attempt to bring him to his father. He was a wooden marionette, and he knew it damn well. What he didn't expect was for Isaac to be the Blue Fairy who brought him to life.

     Maybe that was his downfall.

     When Josiah arrived at his father's building,the first thing he noticed was the utter lack of change. The lobby was decorated with the same midnight sofas, and the marble still reflected the icy hospital-esque lights. Even the receptionist was one he recognized, and she gave him a faint purse-of-lips type smile when he first entered.

It was still the same cold building, yet it felt so different from when he was called here two years ago. Reluctantly, he took the lift to the top floor, presumably where his father's office was located. The ride felt endless, almost like he'd never reach the top, except he did.  As expected, the big oak doors still creaked the same creak when they opened.

     "Father," he greeted. Josiah tried to determine his mood based off of his facial expressions, though he lacked any. Oddly enough, he felt relieved at this, because if this was a meeting about his sexuality, tangible rage would've been present. And he'd much rather not touch rage. "Why am I here?"

     "Nice to see you too, son." He pulled a thick cigar out of his mouth. "As for your question I'm sure you can answer it for yourself. What do you think is the reason I called you here?"

     He smirked. "Because my school performance has dropped? I can bring it back up whenever I want to in a matter of seconds."

     "Then why the hell haven't you? Your teachers have informed me that you haven't been attending class." Now there was emotion in his face. "I bet you didn't even realize that Harley kid dropped out. What am I supposed to do with you? I thought I could trust you with this. Do I need to send you to a damn school in America?"

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