Dan knocked on the door. Three times, not more.
"Come in."
Dan walked into the expensive suite. "Good evening, Dad."
"Sit down." said his father, not looking up from his laptop.
"Dad, I wanted to tell you a few things." said Dan, keeping his eyes on the floor.
"Yes, son." replied his father.
"It concerns my life and my future, Dad. Do you think you could listen to me?" said Dan in a quiet voice, though he was annoyed that his father wouldn't spare two minutes to hear his only son out.
"I'm listening." he said simply.
Dan sighed. "Dad, I'm gay."
His father froze. "What - what did you say?" he asked, looking at Dan directly for the first time since he came into the room.
"I'm gay, Father. I like boys." gulped Dan. He hoped his father would support him. He didn't have anyone else.
"Leave the house, Daniel." said his father, his voice cold and emotionless.
"Dad?" Dan couldn't speak. He thought his father would support him - help him out - but that statement was blunt and cold.
"I said, leave. I won't have a son who's - who's a freak." said his father.
Dan's lips quivered. Tears welled up in his eyes - but they were all anger. "Then, father," said Dan. "You don't have a son."
That night Dan packed up all his belongings and money and left the mansion he once called home. He moved to London and lived in a crappy one roomed house for three years.
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