One lie. Two lies. Another. 

Stranger! Please be my Child’s Father

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Chapter 2: One lie. Two lies. Another. 

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God fucking damn it. 

 

Track seven was going to make him blow his goddamn fucking brains out.

He had no idea what the fuck he wanted to do for the melody, had no idea what instruments to start with--he was just facing a blank production track, not a single chord placed on it.

 

It wasn’t like Gael was completely hopeless, no. He had gotten quick a bit of traction with the Chanty collaboration--in fact, that track was close to completion.

It was just this stupid track seven that he was unable to gain any headway on.

His other co-producers and assistants suggested that he drop the track, that the album would be fine for release without it, but Gael was adamant.

He needed that stupid track to be released, he just needed some time. 

 

Currently, “some time” was looking like quite a lot: aside from spinning around in his chair for the past thirty minutes, track seven was looking quite empty and untouched. 

 

Gael’s phone buzzed from somewhere off to the side, and he stopped his frantic spinning to grab the device, seeing that in his spinning, he had a missed call and a voicemail. He raised a brow, not recognizing the number, but tapped on the voicemail regardless, raising the cool screen of his phone to his ear. 

 

The voice was automated, one of those cool male voices that every business practice used. 

 

“Hello. We are calling to inform you that your son, Hudson Miller, has been involved in a disciplinary infraction. Please come to the office of Erin Academy and see the principal immediately.”

 

Well, whose rat child was this? Not his, he knew that for sure. He didn’t even know a Hudson Miller. 

 

Gael spun in his chair thoughtfully, before glancing at his phone again. Should he go? Just for the fun of it? Bust out a poor kid? 

 

One spin. Two spins. Another. 

 

His mind was made. Gael grabbed his coat, shoving his keys in his pocket, and donned a face mask in order to not be haggled by his legion of fans. He was gonna bust one Hudson Miller out from the principal.

 

If his manager knew what he was going to do, he’d have an aneurysm and fall dead right then and there, but luckily for Gael, the younger was out, trying to book a few more photoshoots for him.

Still, he didn’t want to make his best friend’s life harder than it already was, so he tucked his blonde hair into a cap, and went out the back to his car, making sure none of the reporters caught sight of him. 

 

Surprisingly enough, Erin Academy was rather close to his studio, just a fifteen minute distance. He raised an eyebrow when his sleek model wasn’t the nicest in the lot--this was a rich person academy wasn’t it?

Maybe Hudson Miller in question was a spoiled brat. 

 

Either way, he was determined. He came all this way, didn’t he? He slipped shades onto his face, now fully covered as he parked and slipped out of his car, heading to the office. He drew his dark trench coat closer to him, hands jammed deep into the pockets. 

 

He pushed open the office door, watching as the woman sitting behind a table at the entrance paused her furious typing to look at him. “Welcome to the Academy. How can I help you?”

 

“I was called for a disciplinary infraction by Hudson Miller.” Gael said coolly.

The woman shot him a confused look but rose, stepping out from behind her perch to lead him down the hallways, her heels clicking noisily on the marble. She led him down to a door, decorated with various certificates and plaques, knocking twice before opening the door. She gestured for him to step in, and Gael nodded, stepping past her and stepping into the room. 

 

Immediately, his eyes fixated on the scene in front of him. Two women, very clearly wealthy with their excessive diamonds and leopard print suits stood above another woman, wearing simple dark dress pants and a sky blue button up tucked into the pants, who was kneeling, a hand braced on her thighs, the other hand on the head of a little boy that stood next to her, crying, with dark curly hair.

A bruise swelled on the little boy’s cheek. 

 

The principal, a fat bellied man that probably struggled trying to squeeze into that tight violet dress shirt, stood up, probably to question his presence in the room.

The dark haired woman’s head, the one that was kneeling, snapped towards Gael, showing soft eyes laced with disappointment, lips downturned into a frown. The child, who was presumably Hudson Miller, looked at him with recognition, and ran to him, flinging his arms around his leg. 

 

“Dad!” Little Hudson Miller choked out, cheeks stained with tears. 

 

Gael was dumbfounded. This kid looked nothing like him, but something about the pleading eyes, the helpless look on the little one’s mother’s face, compelled him to play along. 

 

He lowered his glasses, revealing the trademark eyes that everyone knew to recognize him by, raising an eyebrow, his hand coming to gently wipe the child’s tears. 

 

“What the hell is going on here?”

 

***

***

“Momma?” Hudson asked, so long ago.

The blanket was nice and fluffy against his body, and there was a stuffed little bear that he clutched closer to his chest.

He had named it Bobo, a name that he didn’t quite know where it came from, but Bobo was his bear, and that was that.

His momma must have been cold--his momma slept on the ground, without a blanket, without a Bobo. Hudson had asked where her Bobo was, and momma had just smiled and booped his nose, saying that Hudson was her own bear. 

 

That was silly, because Hudson wasn’t really a bear, but whatever made momma happy. 

 

The other kids in school had two sets of people. Sometimes it was a dada and a momma, other times it was a dada and another dada, or two mommas!

But his momma was always alone.

Always, always alone. It was just Momma, Hudson, and Bobo. 

 

“Yes, little bear?” Momma glanced up from the story she was reading. They only had three stories and Hudson knew them all really well.

Momma said that she would get them more when she had enough money. 

 

There was always something about money. Hudson didn’t really know what it meant, but aunt Faye and momma talked about it a lot, so it must have been really important. 

 

“Where’s my second momma? Or dada? Everyone has two, where’s mine? Is he hiding? Do I hafta find him like hide n seek?” Hudson peeked under the covers to look for his mystery dada.

No one there. 


His momma giggled, a dolphin noise that Hudson liked to hear. “No, silly bear. You have me, I’m your only momma.” 

 

Well, he knew that, of course. “I know, Momma. But where’s my other one?”

 

Maybe if Hudson had been a bit older, he would have seen the way Arabella’s face got a bit worried, a bit jagged around the edges, seen how tired the other woman had looked. But he was in the blissful oblivion of childhood--he was just looking for his second parent. 

 

His momma reached across, rifled through some papers, and exclaimed. “Aha! Here. Here’s your dada.” On the front cover, a man with silver hair and crescented eyes stared back, and Hudson drank the figure in. 

 

“Where is he?” Hudson asked, fingertips stroking the glossy surface of the magazine, patting his mysterious new dada’s face. 

 

“He’s off making music, my baby. He travels the world a loooooooot. He doesn’t really have time to be a dada, so that’s why it’s just me and you!” 

 

Hudson patted not-here dada’s face one last time. “He can make music, momma. I just need you, and Bobo.” And with that, Hudson rolled over in bed, snuggled into his momma’s side, and tucked Bobo a bit closer, content with knowing that he had another dada. 

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TBC

Hope it’s going good, so far??