You're a fraud and you know it
But it's too good to throw it all away
Anyone would do the same

Deep breathing is heard coming from all directions, we hear banging of a wooden door, shouts and screams are heard. Blows being landed and the whimpers of a young boy are heard. The shouts of an older man are getting louder at the other end of the door, almost as if the door was going to break from the yelling alone. 

"Please....I'm sorry, Please...I didn't mean too."

We hear the pleas of a young boy, obviously trying to convince his would-be punisher at the other end of the door. Almost as if he knows that door is going to break soon, The young boy hides under his bed, trying his best to stay out of reach, even though this man was at the other end of the door, soon enough, just as suspected, the door has broken off of his hinges. 

A man with blind rage glossing over in his eyes had swept the room, trying his best to find the man, but he could find nothing, almost as if the boy himself had disappeared, with a grunt of anger, the man had stalked out of the room, stepping over the body of a woman with dark brown hair and grey eyes. Her eyes were blank, almost as if she had detached herself from the situation at hand and would do nothing but watch as this terroriser had wanted to lay a hand on her son...

"He is no son of mine...."

The woman nodded, agreeing with him that this boy was no son of theirs, she had failed to protect him, she had failed to do so much for him and yet she as a mother, had taken an oath to protect and help her son, but that was not to happen. She had stood aside, allowing it to happen without a second thought. She was not a good mother, she was not even a mother, but simply a tool and she knew it.

Looking up, The Woman's eyes had looked across the room and found herself looking at a drawing that her son had made. It was of a family, but she knew that it was not there's, he was standing in the middle of two females, almost clutching at their skirts, trying to shield himself away from being drawn. The two females had the looks of a mother and sister combine, almost like they knew what her son needed. She could do nothing but let a lone tear slide down her cheek with no hesitation.

Looking at the name on the photo, The woman smiled, wondering why he still recognized himself under the bastard who abused him, it was shocking and yet heartwarming, he longed for family and yet, they could not provide him with one. 

~ Charles Peterson ~

You've got 'em going
And you're careful not to show it
Sometimes you even fool yourself a bit
It's like magic

Deep breathing was heard coming from opposite the door, as Charlie Pavanno barged in, his usually mischievous grey eyes, were now blank and devoid of any life. He had done something so unforgivable that he thought himself a coward and no longer a man, but he knew that he was never a man. His father had made sure of that, Charlie sat down on the couch inside the Philly Loft, knowing that he needed time to be alone and He knew that Cassie would not be visiting anytime soon...

"Who are you now? One minute you're Charlie Pavanno, The Mobster, and next, you're the scared little boy of Hendon, London. I wonder how that works. I wonder how you get to switch it off with such ease..."

Charlie gasped as he heard the cold voice of his father coming to haunt him, he could not deal with this right now and knew that he was not going to be getting any sleep, lest he goes back to the nightmares of his past, knowing that was not what he needed right now. Charlie's eyes somehow swept across the room and his eyes had latched onto The Scotch whiskey opposite him, almost like a leech, he wanted it again!

He had stood up with a stagger and walked uneasily towards the bottle, wanting to drain it. He finally made and his hands unscrewed the lid and just as it was on the tip of his lips, Charlie through it towards the wall, not wating to give into his escape, not wanting to drink again. The Drink had made him a fool and a violent oaf, he was neither of those things, he knew that he was not, but still, that one small part of him. The part that had been like his father,

"How alike are we really Charles?"

He growled, knowing that he was not his father, but soon enough, a knock was heard on the door. Charlie gulped, wondering who it was and knew that it might have been someone from the bar, possibly trying to avenge Cassie in hopes of getting under his skirt. Charlie's thoughts were clearly paranoid and most likely affected by the alcohol. 

"Who the fuck is it? Clearly, when one smashes a bottle, they do not wish to be disturbed!"

Charlie opened the door and was greeted by a woman, his eyes had held confusion and he was wondering where he had seen her before, but with his alcohol induced state, he was sure that a lot of his usually sharp senses were not at their best. He tried smiling, to keep up the facade of an approachable and friendly man, but he knew that there was no point, he was a fraud.

"Well, I am sure that I didn't invite you here...I do wonder why you are here though, so why?"

The woman in return had given a lazy grin, almost as if she found the state of Charlie amusing, but soon enough she did answer his question, knowing that he had no other choice but to accept...

"My name is Luna, Charlie, and I believe I could help you..."

Such highs and lows
You put on quite a show
All these highs and lows
And you're never really sure
What you do it for
Well, do you even want to know?
You put on quite a show

Continued in A Father's Legacy, Part II