Keep in mind: this story is based off of my own headcanons. It is not canon.
Let's set the scene: two loving parents living in a beautiful home in the suburbs. The perfect place to raise a child: near parks, close to an amazing school, many friendly families as neighbors. The weather is not too cold but, all the same, not too hot. Everything is perfect. Everything is kind. Everything is good.
Now, forget about that. As beautiful of an idea as that may be, this is not that kind of story. It will never be that kind of story. Why? This is a real story, not a fairy tale. Real stories rarely, if ever, have happy beginnings.
In 1981, there was a not-so-happy couple by the names of Jerrod and Ella. They had been married for ten years already, but hated each other the entire time. You see, their marriage was arranged by their parents, and while there was some physical attraction, there was no love. This was the first domino to fall in a long line of misfortunes.
Jerrod was an incredibly successful CEO, though for what company was never explicitly stated by the man. He was a man with a cold exterior, as if he was carved of ice and remained just as expressionless as a statue would be. A mix of deep-seated homophobia, racism, and rude attitude with his man-of-few-words personality assured that almost everything that came out of his mouth was extremely disagreeable.
The company Jerrod worked for required a lot of travelling. He would be there one day and gone the next. He would leave for months at a time without warning. This was domino number two.
Ella was a stern, cruel-faced woman with an exceptional capacity for being extremely controlling. Nothing ever went on without her knowing or leading it. She had to control everything - from the time her husband got up in the morning to what was in the food she ate, to every employee at her job - which worked, as she owned a large hospital and was able to be the boss of everyone. Ella was the third domino. Nothing slipped her notice. That is, until the pregnancy.
It took a month and a half for Jerrod and Ella to realize that she was pregnant. Of course, in a marriage arranged based off of wealth and procreation rather than any actual emotion, the realization that a baby was on the way should have been a happy one. They had finally obtained their goal.
Alas, it was not. Jerrod reacted with a cold rage that expressed itself in a three month long vacation to the Bahamas. Ella, for once, did not have control. She panicked. She wasn't ready at all. Keep in mind, this particular couple wasn't the type to be painting nurseries.
They lived in a huge mansion close to Seattle, Washington. It was comprised of fancy libraries and studies, barely lived-in bedrooms, and immaculately clean kitchens. This wasn't the sort of household you would expect to bring a baby into.
Their sprawling mansion didn't seem to have room for a child, in every ironic sense. There was nothing even remotely attributed to a family aura within. So when Ella couldn't handle having a baby, she hired someone who could. Even after nine months, all that Ella was prepared for was naming.
Mere hours after he was born on April 26th, 1981, James Tobias Wesley was handed off to a woman hired to raise him and was brought home to a house he had no place in.