DISCLAIMER

Yes… I understand it's been a while. Life is stressful, to say the least. Education gets in the way, then work sends you more shit to do, and then it just seems people around me can't seem to stop dying. I sincerely apologize, but I've also hit a sort of wall that would give Donald Trump a run for his money. So… in order to make up for this, I'm republishing Underground so that it makes a little more sense (Meaning less typos that went unnoticed). I will also work on other projects at the same time, and then most likely disappear for another few months. Until next time.

CHAPTER 1: SWEAR

"You have absolutely no right to do this, whatsoever!"

"He can't live with you, Gustavo. You're not fit to be his father."

"I sure as hell was more of a parent to him than you! You already took the house, the car, and all the fucking money! Now you wanna take the only flesh and blood I have? It's bullshit!"

"You just made my point! You don't have a house. You have an apartment! You don't have a car. You have subway tokens! You don't have money. You're the manager of a fucking Slocum's Joe! You are completely unable to raise Lorenzo anymore."

"Whose fault is that, huh? Who took all my shit and left me high and dry? Was it me? Was it Lorenzo? Was it Jangles the fucking Moon Monkey?! No! It was you, Mari!"

"Do I need to remind you why we got a divorce in the first place?"

"Because you're a paranoid bitch that doesn't understand boundaries and privacy?"

"Because there shouldn't have been anything private between us, Gustavo!"

"So you went ahead and made the assumption that I cheated."

"I didn't need to assume until Sherry told me what she saw!"

"Sherry's a cunt! She never liked me to begin with! Of course she would stir the pot and make us divorce if that meant I was out of your life! I swear I think she's trying to get you all to herself. I'm telling you, she might be a lesbian!"

"First, she wouldn't do that. Second, she isn't one. And third, who the fuck do you think you are to call my friend a cunt?!"

"I think I'm what you made me to be; your ex-husband and the father of the child I took care of for eleven fucking years! Not only do I no longer have to care about what you think anymore, I don't have to try and be nice to any of your friends either! I fucking hate all of your friends! They are all either absolute douchebags or larger-than-life retarded bitches, but none of them, and I mean NONE of them top Sherry Alwin and her best friend, Mariana Bosun!

"Lorenzo is my son, not yours! I raised him to who he is today while you were out on your fucking 'business trips!' I gave up the opportunity to actually help people in need just to try and keep this family together, only for me to realize that there is no family to keep together! I'm taking him, I'm keeping him, I'm raising him, and I'm gonna do the best goddamn job of it anyone has ever seen! I'll fucking show you how much better of a parent I am than you!"

"So that's what it is? Proving me wrong? Well, you can't even do that."

"And why is that?"

"Because you are legally obligated to bring Lorenzo to me. He is, and always will be, my son... not yours."

"You know... with the utmost sincerity, go fuck yourself."

"I want Lorenzo here in Albany by the end of today or I'm calling the police and forcing you to give him to me. Are we clear?"

Silence. Pure rage seethed through Gustavo as he was listening to Mariana basically threaten him.

"Gustavo, are we clear?"

"Like fucking crystal."

Gustavo slammed the phone down, hanging it up and cracking the handle in the process. He looked around the small apartment, comprised of only four different rooms. The living room merged into the kitchen, which merged into the entrance and the hallway. In that hallway was three doors that led to a bedroom, a closet, and a bathroom coated in mildew, somehow clinging to life.

He walked to a torn leather couch stationed in front of a coffee table and a cheap television. He didn't bother to put his feet up or look for the remote, not showing an ounce of effort. Instead, he looked down at his carpet, silent. Placing his hands on his face, he broke that silence with a sniffle. His eyes had begun to water as the palms of his hands did their best to rub the tears out of existence. There was no stopping it though, as the tears cascaded down his face like water in a storm drain.

"No... no... oh, no... come on, please..." Gustavo begged himself that this wasn't happening as his voice broke. He kept thinking, How could you let something like this happen? How, dammit?! Gustavo felt like a failure, having been brought down to such a level by a woman who believed her "best friend" instead of her own loving husband. His eyes had gone red from the rubbing, looking red enough to be bloodshot. At this point, what he looked like didn't matter to him, but it would matter to Lorenzo.

Gustavo didn't want his son to see him like this. Odds are he overheard the entire argument between his parents. It was only a matter of time before he would come into the living room to check on his father. Gustavo heard small, quiet footsteps behind him and pulled his head out of his hands, looking directly at the black television screen, which in turn gave off a dark, foggy reflection.

"Dad? Are you okay?" Lorenzo had asked.

Taking one last big sniff of air as he wiped a single teardrop from his cheek, Gustavo replied, "Yeah. I'm okay. I just need to relax for a little bit, you know?" Gustavo didn't turn his head once to face Lorenzo. He wanted his son to see him as a man who's always rough and tough and never takes shit from anyone. In reality, he wasn't any of those things. He was just a man. In his mind, barely that.

"Hey, Lorenzo, uh..."

"Yeah, Dad? What is it?"

"It's your mom, kiddo. We're gonna go visit her a little later today."

"We're visiting Mom today?"

"Yeah, so pack up, alright?"

"Pack up? Am I sleeping over there?"

"I'll tell you in a little bit, okay? Come on, pack up your stuff; clothes, toothbrush, games, anything. If you can fit it in your suitcase, put it in, but the stuff you need first. Then put anything you can fit in there."

"I know how to pack my bags, Dad."

"Are you sure? Last time I told you to pack, your suitcase consisted of ninety percent games, a toothbrush, and two sets of clothes. You didn't even bother to pack any underwear and we were going to be gone for the whole weekend."

"This time will be different, I swear."

After hearing Lorenzo walk off and close the door to his room, Gustavo placed his face in his hands once more, only this time he just kept breathing in and out sharply. He tried his damnedest to hold back the tears from flowing once more, but couldn't help the urge to do so. The thought of today being the last day he might ever be a true father to his son was devastating to even acknowledge. Nonetheless, he knew that it was going to happen at some point. He just didn't know when... and was happier not knowing.

As Lorenzo was packing his bag with the few t-shirts and jeans he had, he thought back to his father. His voice said nothing was wrong and that everything was fine, but his reflection in the television said otherwise. He constantly thought he was the reason his mom and dad were apart, and kept thinking how life would have been different if they weren't burdened with him. When him and Gustavo left Albany for Brooklyn in June, he knew that he wouldn't be coming back for a while, and wondered if he would be coming back at all. Now it's October, and about a little over a week before Halloween; the 23rd. Lorenzo missed his friends, and now he's getting the opportunity to hang out with them again, especially on Halloween. With his parents always arguing, his friends became more of a family to him than his own family. At least they would listen to him more than his own parents.

He kept thinking, and as he was, he realized that all his clothes were packed in his suitcase, and there was still a little room left for some of his favorite things. Above all, the first thing that had to go in was his favorite Grognak the Barbarian issue, "Cometh the Trickster". No matter what the other kids at school said, it was still the best in Lorenzo's opinion.

Second was a prize that came from one of his dad's RobCo magazines; Grognak and the Ruby Ruins. Lorenzo never got the chance to play it at home, though. His family could never afford a terminal to play it on, but he always snuck it into school to play during environmental science. It would explain how on his latest test, under "Name the three types of rocks," he wrote Igneous, Ruby, and Grelok. It would also explain the resounding "F" Lorenzo received in that class.

The final thing that absolutely had to go in the suitcase was his ProSnap camera. Lorenzo had owned this for so long it would be a horrible thing to part with it. Ever since he was in preschool, Lorenzo wanted to remember anything and everything around him, but the beautiful views and great friends he made over the years often faded away. For Lorenzo's eighth birthday, his parents got him the camera, which was a rather expensive camera at the time at an upwards of one hundred fifty dollars, so that he could remember everything awesome about life. Ever since, Lorenzo had taken the camera on every trip the family ever went on, as well as a couple of days during the school year. The other boys made fun of him for bringing his camera, saying that it was stupid to take pictures of the things he'll see again next year. Ironically, those boys were not part of the things Lorenzo would see again next year, as they were held back for "forgetting" to do their work.

Lorenzo zipped up the suitcase and took one last look around the room he'd been sleeping in for the last few months. It was strange sharing a room with his dad, but also kind of a refreshing experience. He was isolated in his room a lot since he got a new portable transistor radio with a pair of headphones for his tenth birthday, but sharing a room with his father became more... comfortable, in a way. The two got to talk more about things outside of family stuff, like Lorenzo's friends, Gustavo's job, and even politics at some points. Their conversations would never go to full-blown arguments, unlike with Mariana. Whenever Lorenzo tried to talk about anything controversial with his mom, she would either dismiss the topic immediately, or go into full detail how Lorenzo's point of view was wrong and her's was right. Every attempt at communication Lorenzo would make being shut down, which led to Lorenzo getting upset with her and saying, "Will you let me speak for once?!" Safe to say, this didn't relatively end well for him.

Lorenzo knew that he wasn't just staying the night. Or the week. Or even the month. If he was going to Albany, he was going to stay there for good. He'd no longer have those intimate conversations with his dad. He'd never again eat bacon and eggs and laugh at the small kitchen table. He wouldn't communicate in the house at all, except when trying to get his radio to work by constantly mumbling, "Come on, now." These past four months would be made non-existent if he were to go back to Albany to live with his mom. The heartbreaking thing is he had no control over what happened. The tragic thing is that he knew he would never have a say in it.

As Lorenzo was packing his bag, Gustavo was hanging over the kitchen sink. Grainy tap water dripped down from his nose and bottom lip. His eyes burned up from him vigorously rubbing them to the point of nearly breaking the skin on his eyelids.

"Come on, Gus," he mumbled to himself. "Get a grip. Be a man. For him. You'll see him again after this. This isn't..." Another sharp breath escaped from Gustavo's lungs as he held back more tears from his already irritated eyes. "This isn't goodbye. Okay? It isn't."

Within the deep recesses of his mind, Gustavo knew this was the last time he'd ever see his son again. Mariana would try, in all her power, to prevent Lorenzo from ever having to be bothered by his "incapable father" ever again. Hell, Sherry might help her get a restraining order against Gustavo just for the fun of fucking him over more.

No! Gustavo thought. Pull yourself together! You won't let that happen... You won't.

Wiping his face one last time, Gustavo called out to Lorenzo, asking if he had finished packing his bag.

"Yeah! Just grabbing the last few things!" Gustavo knew what that meant; his portable radio and headphones. It was Gustavo who bought that for Lorenzo, and he'd regret it ever since. It helped him concentrate on his work, but he was also tuned out by The Ink Spots and Roy Brown more than his own ex-wife. Still, whenever Lorenzo had it, he seemed to be enjoying himself. That was all that mattered.

Unsurprisingly, Lorenzo came out of his room with his suitcase in his hand, his portable radio in his pocket, and his headphones around his neck, much to his father's dismay. Lorenzo noticed this, giving a sort of, "I know what you're thinking," grin.

"I was thinking on whether or not to ask you if you packed your toothbrush," Gustavo said in a rather sarcastic tone. "Did you?" Lorenzo's smile went away as he slowly backed up into the bathroom to retrieve his toothbrush, all the while nonchalantly whistling the tune of "It's All Over But the Crying."

"This time will be different, huh? You swear, huh?" Gustavo laughed as he said this, but it was a bittersweet laugh, and Lorenzo replied with a bittersweet chuckle.

"Hey, it's the thought that counts, right?"

"In this case, not really."

"Oh..." Lorenzo exited the bathroom, zipping up the side pocket of his suitcase, looking more happy in his attempt to make a sad face. His quivering lip looked more like he was trying to stifle a laugh. Nonetheless, both him and his father shared a brief chuckle before opening the door to the apartment.

"Let's go." Gustavo said as he exited the apartment, motioning his hand for Lorenzo to come forward. Lorenzo did as he was told, walking out the door and grabbing the knob to close it, but not before taking one last look at everything inside; the torn couch, the cheap TV, the old stove, and even the dark hallway. It was all stuff he knew he would never see again.

"Goodbye." Lorenzo said, shutting the door on the last four months he'd had with his father.

It was 8:27 a.m.