"Scared of my own image, scared of my own immaturity, Scared of my own ceiling, scared I'll die of uncertainty, Fear might be the death of me, fear leads to anxiety, Don't know what's inside of me... Don't forget about me..." I reread the lyrics in my head, wishing I had more room to write on the napkin. Maybe I shouldn't write so big. And maybe get more notebooks.

"Marshall, are you even listening to me?" A female voice interrupted me thoughts.

"Huh? What was that?"

"For heavens sake, Marshall," my mom sighed through the phone. "I asked if you wanted to meet for dinner tonight. I haven't seen you in forever and I miss my only son!" She cried.

I rolled my eyes. "I don't know, are you gonna try and force me to work at your stupid job again?" I joked, unamused. Anytime my mom wants to sit down and chat with me, it's always about her wanting me to help run her boring attorney business.

"What, a mother can't have dinner with her son? Who do you think I am?" She asked rhetorically. 'A heartless bitch,' is what I wanted to say. "I'll pick you up in an hour and we can eat and do whatever you want, sound good?" She was definitely up to something... I can't remember the last time she was this nice.

"Whatever, alright," I sighed, switching the phone to the other ear.

"Don't sound so miserable!" She said. "Look, I'm trying to be a good mother. I messed up in the past, I know, but I'm trying to get better at this whole thing... You better be ready in an hour or else I'm gonna beat your ass, got it? Don't keep me waiting."

"Alright alright, I'll be ready, jeez." I hung up the phone. What have I gotten myself into? I ran a hand through my hair, looking at the small white napkin with lyrics written all over it. "I guess I'll have to finish this later," I sighed and sat up from my couch, walking up stairs to get ready.

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I looked at myself in the mirror, setting down the hair dryer on the bathroom counter. "Better get this over with." A car horn blasted outside, signaling that my mother had arrived. Exactly one hour after our phone call. I contemplated whether I should make her wait on purpose or not, but I figured I'd give her a break just this once. I grabbed my keys, wallet, and phone, and headed out the door.

"Marshall! It's good to see you! How are you?" My mom asked, giving me a side hug once I sat down in the car.

"Fine. Good to see you too." I hugged her back.

"You look nice. Are those new jeans? And is that cologne you're wearing? You smell nice." My mom bombarded as she pulled out of my driveway. Before I could answer any of them she started asking more questions. "Who's car is that? Is that yours?" She asked, referencing to the black car in the driveway.

"No, it's... Simone's. She's letting me borrow it for a while," I said awkwardly, not wanting to make her angry. My mom was quiet for a second.

"...oh. I see. How nice of her," she said in a tone that pretended to sound nice, but clearly held deep hatred behind it.

"Yeah..." I said, not really sure what to say next.

The next 20 minutes went by slow and quiet, neither of us saying a word the rest of the trip. The car was filled of tension, like a thick cloud between us.

Once we were inside the house a wave of nostalgia washed over me. Not exactly a good one, but recollection nonetheless. To think that I once lived in this tidy, two story house set a weird feeling in my stomach. I looked around at the walls and furniture and decor. Not much has changed since I moved out; baby pictures of me still hung on the walls, all the tables and woodwork were still the same dark mahogany, just the way it was when I left.

One would assume that someone who moved out at a young age would visit their parents's quite often. Not me. This is the first time I've been back here in over two years. I guess that doesn't really sound like a long time, but it sure felt like it.

As I was making my way towards the kitchen, a picture frame on the wall caught my attention. I paused, staring at it intently. It was an old picture of Marceline and I being held by our dads on a porch. I looked really young, probably three years old, while Marceline looked about eight. I studied the photo more, looking at little insignificant details that for some reason seemed all so important. Like my Dad's red sweater, or Uncle Hunson's slicked back hair.

"You look just like him, you know," my mother said from my right. I turned my attention to her. "I think that's why I'm so hard on you sometimes. It just kinda hurts..." She trailed off, staring at the photo. I stayed quiet.

A little while later, I was sitting at the dinner table. "I made your favorite!" My mother walked in with a steaming plate, setting it in front of me. "Chicken parmesan!"

I blinked at the plate before looking at my mom. "I hate chicken parm." My mother sighed through her nose, struggling to keep a happy attitude.

"Marshall Lee, I went through all this trouble to make dinner for you. You better eat it," she seethed through clenched teeth, glaring at me.

"Okay, okay. Thank you for going through the trouble to make this, I bet it's great," I smiled. After living with a crazy bitch for over six years, I learned a few tricks to get out of being yelled at. Tell her what she wants to hear, and smile so she thinks it's genuine.

"Good." She sat at the head of the table and we prayed before eating. I took a bite and immediately wanted to spit it out, but I kept it down. "How is it?" She asked.

I flashed her a smile, "great." She smiled back with a 'thank you'.

"So," she started after a while. "Did you get a job yet?"

"Yeah, I did. I teach people music," I said, not really wanting to go into it.

"How nice. Where at? Like your house? Or a studio or something?" She pressed on.

I really didn't want to tell her I taught at my high school, but something must've came over me. "The high school. I'm the new music teacher."

Mom looked at me confused. "Teacher? You're only 18, how are you teaching a class?"

"I honestly don't know..." I shrugged.

"Alright then," she said slowly. "Are you interested in anyone yet? It's been a while since you and Ashley broke up."

"Uh. Well, there is somebody that I like..." I said picking at my plate. There's no way I was going to tell her I liked a boy. Not right now at least.

"Ooo, really? Who is she? What's she like? Can I meet her?"

"Um... She's, nice. And funny. And she really likes pink." I said, not giving her too much information and lying about the gender.

"How lovely, you sure it's not Bonnibel you're talking about?" she laughed. I laughed dryly. "Well, when are you going to ask her out?"

"I already did, actually. We're going on a date on Saturday."

"That's great! Make sure to be a gentlemen to her. Girls like that," she winked. "Speaking of gentlemen... I've been meaning to tell you about someone." I raised an eyebrow at her. "And actually, he's coming over later!"

"You mean like... A boyfriend?"

"Exactly! I really want him to finally meet you. We've been dating for a few months now."

"Mom... What about Dad?" She's moving on? And she didn't even ask me if I was alright about this!?

"Marshall, you know I love your father. I do, with all my heart. And I miss him terribly. But I need to move on-"

"How could you!?" I yelled.

"Marsh-"

"You're cheating on Dad!"

"I am not-"

"How do you think he feels about it!?"

"ENOUGH!" She slammed her fist on the table. "He's dead, Marshall!! He's gone! Forever! Get over it!"

I stared at her with wide eyes. Her's widening as well, realizing what she just said. "I'm sorry..." I apologized sheepishly.

She sighed, "I'm sorry, too. I didn't mean to burst like that. I just... It's been 13 years since he passed. Since we lost him. I've been lonely, Marshall. He told me to move on, but I couldn't. It hurt too much. This is my chance to finally be happy again. To start over. Please, just accept that," she pleaded with tears in her eyes, grabbing ahold of my hand. "I've been all by myself for 13 years... I pushed you away at such a young age and I am so, so sorry, Marshall. I was young, and stupid, and hurt and I just-" a sob escaped her. I squeezed her hand gently. "I just couldn't handle it anymore. Every time I looked at you, I could see him, and it caused me too much pain. Selfish, I know." She sniffled and wiped tears off her cheeks. I stayed quiet, watching her.

"I'm sorry, Marshall. For everything I did to you. I left you all alone when you were just a child. Abused you as teen. Neglected you. I made you need to have meds. And I almost lost you to depression," she sobbed. "All because of me, you're damaged inside... And even though I hate to admit it, thank God Simone found you in that store and took you in. I'm glad she raised you well," more tears rolled down her face. I stood up and pulled her into a hug. She clung to me, sobbing into my shoulder.

"Please don't cry, Mom. I don't like seeing you cry." I can't believe this is happening. She's apologizing for everything... And crying. I couldn't help but tear up too, it hurts to see your mother cry.

"Please forgive me, Marshall. I'm so, so sorry," she continued to wail.

I stayed silent for a while before I said softly, "I forgive you."

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About a half hour later we were sitting on the couch talking.

"So, when did you find out I was with Simone?" I asked.

"I've always known. That day I left you there, I came back. A worker told me you left with a lady with platinum blonde hair so instantly I knew it was her. I was angry at first, but I told her that you needed to be with her instead of me. I figured you'd be better off with her. She protested a few times, but eventually gave in and raised you," she said.

"Why did you come and demand me back if I was so better off with her?"

"I don't know, honestly. I was crazy back then. I was going to let her adopt you legally, but last minute I changed my mind and didn't want to give you up. But, I was still unstable and crazy and I took out all my anger on you. Sorry."

I was going to ask her more questions but there was a knock on the door. Mom's face lit up. "Oh! That must be Wyatt!" She fixed her long black hair real quick before jogging to the door and opening it. A tall man with short dark hair walked in. He wore a simple outfit, dark wash jeans, a gray fitted tee, dark boots, and a brown leather jacket. I walked over to them while Mom greeted him with a kiss.

"I'm Wyatt, nice to finally meet you," he greeted in a deep, almost raspy voice. He smiled dashingly and held out his hand to shake.

I accepted and said, "Marshall Lee, nice to meet you too," I smiled back.

"Marshall Lee, huh. Is Lee your middle name or something?" He asked.

"No, I have two first names. My middle name is Michael, actually."

"Uh oh, can't trust a guy with two first names!" He laughed. Mom laughed too. I didn't understand, what was so funny?

"Don't worry, you're probably too young to understand. It's an old joke or something," Wyatt said.

"Oh. Ok." I was still confused.

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After a few hours of chatting and joking around, I was pretty fond of this Wyatt guy. He was pretty funny and he seemed really nice. All that matters is that Mom was happy.

Wyatt and I got to know each other, and I found out that he served in the navy for a while. He told me that he lost his dad at a young age too, and that his grandparents raised him for most of his childhood. He owns a landscaping business now with a few of his friends, and the reason him and Mom met was because someone tried suing their company, and she was their lawyer.

I was starting to get tired around 11 o'clock and asked Mom for a ride back. The three of us climbed in the car and drove in the darkness back to my place. The air was cool and the sky was clear, a perfect night.

Mom pulled into my long driveway, Wyatt making jokes about how I must be a vampire since I was so hidden away in the forest.

"I'm not a blood sucking freak, thank you very much. I just like the peacefulness out here," I defended.

"Sure, sure. It is peaceful, I'll give you that much."

"Anyways, do you guys wanna come in for a sec?" I asked, exiting the car. They agreed and followed me to the porch.

"You got yourself a nice lawn there. You do this yourself?" Wyatt asked.

"Kinda," I said. "Me and my... "Other mother" did."

"Other mother, eh? Is that the Simone lady you were talking about earlier?"

"Yup," I said as I unlocked the front door. We walked in and instantly my little white cat ran over to greet us. I picked her up and introduced her to them. "This is my kitty, Schwable." Wyatt clung to her, scratching her head and ears and talking to her like a baby. I handed her off to him.

"Marshall, when did you get a cat?" My mom asked. Wyatt was busy with Schwable.

"Last year. I found her outside one day and took her in."

"Hmm... She is quite cute." She smiled at Wyatt cradling her.

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Mom and Wyatt left soon after that. I showed them (mostly Wyatt) around my house and we talked for a little bit.

Now I was laying in bed thinking about what happened tonight. Hopefully my mom and I will be on better terms now. I decided to text Bubba about everything that happened. Luckily he was still awake.

Gummy: that's great marsh! I'm happy for you both
Me: thanks. Let's hope she won't be as bitchy with this new guy around haha
Gummy: oh please. She seems like she's serious about this. She should be nicer in general.
Me: yeah you're right.

We ended up talking until we fell asleep. I'm glad I went to dinner with Mom. It didn't go how I expected but at least I was able to say it was a good day.

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Hello!
What an interesting chapter. Hannah Abadeer has emotions??? Who would've thought. Lol

This chapter might've been rushed/fast but oh well. Idc.
What do you guys think of Wyatt? I think he's cool so far. Idk what his purpose is in the story yet, but he's here anyways!

I also decided to play with Marshall's name a little. Give him a middle name Bc why not? I always wanted to know if anyone else ever thought about the whole two first name thing like me, or if they just assumed Lee was his middle name... Whatever. Not important lmao.
Song Creds:
Doubt - Twenty one pilots

That's it for me! See ya in the next chapter! ❤️😜