He opened his eyes. His head was pounding and he did not know where it was he was for a moment. He looked around and realized that it was his room. What had happened? All he could remember was that he came home from school, mad at his dad and the principal, and that he drank a bottle of his fathers beer.
"Unn.." he laid back down, his hand was on his head. The beer, he must have gotten drunk. But... was his father home? He didn't know. He looked at the clock and saw that it was nearly midnight. When did he go to his room?
He removed his hand from his head and sat up, he was still in his school's uniform. His father must have seen him drunk, if he was home. He stood up and walked to the door, hesitating for a moment and even more when he heard sobbing.
"Shh... It's ok Sakano, he didn't mean that, he wasn't in his right mind." He heard his father say.
Sakano was over? Does that mean he saw him drunk too? What did he do? He had no idea at all. He opened the door, the light from the living area made his headache feel worse than it was.
Once his vision was back and he could see, he saw his father, looking angrily at him, holding a sobbing Sakano in his arms, the producers broken glasses were on the floor, but Sakano, Michael noticed, was not in his normal attire, he was in one of K's pajama's.
"Umm..." Michael looked at the floor. He must have done something really bad to make his father look at him like that.
"I'll be back." K said to Sakano, who just nodded, wiping his eyes on the sleeve that was too long for him.
His father walked towards him, angry and pushed him, literally into his room, making him trip backwards and fall on his butt. "Ow.." Michael said lowly, holding his head. When he looked back to his father who was standing over him, he was met with the barrel of his gun. "Fa-"
"Shut up!" He said, coldly. "What the hell were you thinking? Not only did you drink underage, but you drank MY beer. You yelled at Sakano, you know how sensitive he is, you punched him, and puked on him, wasting MY beer."
Michael was shaking. He punched him? And puked on him? The man that was like a second father to him, only spazzier. He couldn't talk, or even barley think, his head was pounding too hard and he was shaking so bad he didn't know what to do.
"You used to be a good kid. I don't know where I went wrong. But maybe it wasn't my fault at all." Michael could feel his fathers cold glare on him.
But he said nothing else, he walked away, slamming the door to his son's room behind him. Michael didn't know anything else to do except to sit there and stare at his trembling hands and the soft carpet.
