A/N: Hi there! I'm back again! Yay... I survived the second week of school! LOL. Okay. Back to actual stuff. sundaym0rning LOL. I hope you like this chapter as well! It's definitely longer. :) aj Hey there! Hmmm... making the chapters longer.. I have already done that. :) Writing from Rylan's POV? That's a good idea. If you don't mind, I'd like to consider that as one of the sequels instead? And, well, you mean Ian serenating to Rebecca? Hmm... there's an idea I could consider. Thanks for your suggestions and I will work on it. Hope you like this chapter too! :)

Enjoy the story!


Chapter 7

Rylan walked home quietly. He shuffled his feet noisily as he walked, kicking the pebbles along the roadside. No surprise here, because he walks home quietly (and I really mean quietly), without a single sound emitting from his mouth, every single day after school. No matter how he was feeling.

To tell the truth, he is rarely happy. Or maybe even never, ever since his mother left him. But today was an exception. He got an A for his artwork! Okay, so he gets that all the time in Art lessons, but this time it was different. He drew a portrait. And drawing a portrait was something he had never done before, and he was so proud of it.

Although he wanted very badly for his father to have a look at his drawing, he continued strolling back home. Slowly. He knew that there was no point in rushing back home excitedly only to find that his father wasn't there, and get disappointed. He knew that Ian was at work all day, every single day of the week. And Ian practically worked 24/7, and Rylan knew that too.

Kicking pebbles off the pavement, Rylan thought sullenly, 'Papa doesn't care about me. Papa doesn't love me. Papa never plays with me. Papa doesn't want me anymore.' These negative thoughts raced through his mind. Should he believe them or not? Were they true, or were they merely 'illusions'?

Little Rylan remembered his father saying "Daddy is your friend" and "Daddy loves you forever". But how true were Ian's words? He hadn't proved his point; his feelings just by verbal actions. He hadn't expressed his love towards Rylan. He hadn't showered Rylan with care and concern. And how would Rylan know that his papa truly loves him?

Rylan rounded the corner of his street and reached his house. He glanced at the shoe rack. There was no sign of his father's shoes. How he wished that he was wrong; that his father was back at home watching TV, waiting for him to come home, to have meals together... for once. But the keyword was: wished.

Never mind, he comforted himself. I'll show it to Mabel then. Mabel will surely like it.

He stood on toes and rang the doorbell. The door opened and Mabel's face came into view. She was wearing a chef's hat and was holding a ladle. "Hi sweetie, how was school? Was it fun?" Mabel asked as Rylan slipped in through the open door.

Rylan took off his bag and placed it on the couch. He nodded vigorously as he rummaged through the thick wad of papers. Suddenly he pulled out a sheet and declared triumphantly, "Aha! Here it is!" He held the piece of drawing as if it were some really precious gem, and handed it over to Mabel with two hands. "Careful, don't spoil it! Use your two hands!" He exclaimed.

Mabel laughed, amused by the boy's worried expression. "Don't worry," she replied. "I'll be careful." She took the paper – with both hands – and glanced down at it. Then she gasped. Her mouth dropped open in surprise as she glanced up at Rylan, then down at his drawing, then at Rylan again.

"Oh my gosh! I cannot believe it! Rylan, you're such a great artist!" She exclaimed, hugging the boy excitedly. "Wait till your father sees this. You'll be jumping for joy!"

Rylan laughed and pushed himself away from Mabel. "Careful of my drawing, Mabel." He reminded her. "Anyway, why are you so excited? It is not the first time already." He told her as she smoothed the drawing straight and returned it to him.

"What do you mean by 'not the first time already'? You mean you have done other marvellous artworks like this one?" Mabel could not help feeling incredulous.

Obviously uncomfortable at the mention of his works, Rylan decided to change the subject. "So! What are you cooking for lunch today?" He asked cheerfully, looking over her shoulder at the kitchen.

"Well, I'm grilling steak today! I know it's your father's favourite." She answered proudly.

"Oh, but he's not coming home for lunch today."

"He's not?" Mabel seemed both disappointed and shocked. "I thought he was!"

"Nope. He's not." Seeing her crestfallen face, Rylan quickly added, "But never mind, we'll have it instead. I'm sure it tastes good."

Then, sniffing the air, he wrinkled his nose and asked, "Mabel? What's that?"

"What's what?"

"That! Don't you smell… burnt food?"

"Oh no!" She exclaimed. "My food! Lunch!"

They hurried into the kitchen and lifted the lid of the wok. Smoke rose, and a hazy 'fog' clouded their vision. She coughed, swatting away the smell with her free hand as best as she could. "Oh no!" She groaned. "The food is gone. What now?"

"Um… well, I'm sure we could still eat it. It actually smells good." Rylan said, hoping that his words were enough to cheer Mabel up.

"Come on, Rylan. It does not smell good. I know it. And we definitely cannot eat it. That is, unless if you want to have a stomachache." She threw up her hands in frustration and sighed. "Oh well. Forget it. I just have to cook again." She shrugged.

"Mabel, you don't have to cook lunch again! We can go out and eat, can't we? I want to go to Macs then!" Rylan lit up at the idea of having fast food for lunch.

Mabel laughed. "Okay, whatever. You can eat whatever you want to. Now run along, and get changed quickly. I'm just going to clear up this mess first."

She watched as Rylan bounced up the stairs happily. She sighed and picked up the wok and brought it over to the running tap. "What a mess." She muttered, sighing again.


She watched Rylan's fading figure. She gritted her teeth. "This time it didn't work. But next time, I'll make sure it will. Mark my words."


"Mmm! It's delicious!" Rylan licked his lips with satisfaction as he munched into a Big Mac. "Mabel, why can't you bring me out more often to eat here? I love this place!"

Mabel smiled and shook her head. "Don't you know that it's not healthy to eat fast food so regularly?"

"So what? Who cares about being not healthy?" Playfully, Rylan picked up two fries and stick them into his mouth, leaving them hanging like a vampire.

"Well, sweetie, being healthy is very important. Didn't your teacher teach you that?" Seeing the boy sitting in front of her shake his head (still with the fries dangling from the corners of his mouth), she smiled again. "Well, for example, if you eat too many fries, you can become fat."

Hearing that, Rylan looked down at the fries in his hand and dropped them immediately. His mouth dropped open and the 'strands' of fries that were originally hanging there dropped too. "Are you sure?" He gasped. "Are you really absolutely very hundred percent sure that …that these fries can make me f-fat?"

"Yep, why not?" Mabel grinned.

Horrified, Rylan glanced down at his fries. "I am never going to go near any of these again." He said, then took a deep breath and tore his eyes away from the fries. "But the burger does not make me fat, right?" He asked hopefully.

"Well," She eyed the burger apprehensively. "Yes, you will not get fatter after eating it. But… there's the Mad Cow Disease to consider, you know."

Rylan bit his lip and looked down at his half-eaten burger. "Forget it," He said finally after a moment of hesitation. "I'm not going to finish that."

"Okay, if you wish." Mabel smiled. "Come, let's go home now." She slid out of the chair as she thought, Wow! I never knew I was so convincing!


"Come, Rylan. It's time for bed." Mabel urged the young boy as he shook his head.

"No. I want to wait for Papa." He replied stubbornly while playing with his toy cars.

"Your papa will come home very late at night. Come now. It's time for you to go to sleep."

"No."

"Come." Mabel said firmly. "If you want to show your papa your drawing, you can show it to him tomorrow."

"No."

"Rylan, you better go upstairs on the count of three. Otherwise I'll throw all your toy cars away." She warned him, as she got more impatient. Normally Rylan would go to bed without resisting, but tonight…? Receiving no response from the boy, she called. "One."

But the boy did not even stir or look up.

"Two."

Still nothing.

Wanting to give Rylan a chance, Mabel, instead of counting three, said, "Two and a half. I'm telling you, Rylan, my patience is running out."

Silence. Nothing. Not even a single sound.

"Okay! That's it! Three!" Mabel threw her hands up in frustration. She gathered all his toys and threw them onto the couch. "Now, come!" She extended her hand, thinking that the boy would give in this time. But obviously she was wrong. Rylan just shook his head and said, "No." He did not even look up from staring at the floor.

Just then, Rylan looked up. His eyes were brimming with tears. "No," he whispered again. "No. I want to wait for Papa. I want to show him my drawing."

Immediately, the fire that was originally flashing in those clear blue eyes ebbed away. She knelt down next to the boy and sighed. "Rylan," she began, "You're tired now. It's bedtime, sweetie. You need to sleep. You can show your papa your drawing tomorrow."

"No… I want to show him today…"

Mabel bit her lip. Rylan can be really stubborn sometimes. "Okay Rylan, why don't you put your drawing on his table in the study room, and you can leave a note too. When your papa comes back tonight, he'll see it, and you can also go to bed now."

Rylan buried his tear-streaked face on Mabel's shoulder and nodded.


Ian slid the key into its place and turned it slowly. With a soft 'click', he opened the door and tiptoed in. Then he locked it behind him.

He walked quietly up the stairs to his study. He was deadbeat. Even that cup of coffee, and Rebecca's soft, moist kiss on his cheek was not enough to energize him.

He untied his tie, and threw it onto the study table from the room door. Then, without even looking at what was on the table, he left the room.

TBC...