.Maybe.

"Magic Fingers! What brings you here?"

"Hey Don, just wanted to talk to Lucas. Is he here?"

Donald huffed. "If I'm here, he's here."

"Location....?"

"How about coordinates?" He joked wrapping his arms around my shoulders. He led us to the office where we found Lucas reading from a file.

"I got a present for you!" Don said making Lucas jump.

"I pay you to help me with work, not to cause me a heart attack." Lucas said standing up. "Wyatt! What a surprise!"

"H-hey, um, do you have a second?" I asked stuttering.

He nodded towards Donald and motioned with his hand towards the seat in front of his desk. Donald closed the door behind him quietly as I folded my hands on top of my knees. "So, what do you want to talk about?"

My mouth went dry at the second.
You know that feeling you get when you get nervous? That one that drops your stomachs causing you to feel anxious? The kind that kinda makes you want to pee or become gassy? You know the one I'm talking about.
At that moment I got it. I bounced my knee up and down, trying to find a way to calm my bladder. I felt uncomfortable and I felt like I was about to rip one.

I played with my hands, nervous of how this was going to be played out. "Well, I have a few questions," I started off. "For school. Trying to hide the truth.

"Okay, what kind?"

"I-it's for my Sociology class. You know.."

"I do, it's great your taking that. Do you want to be a-"

"Oh no, I mean, I just don't think that's my thing." I looked away from him. He cleared his throat and continued to look through his files.

Every once in a while he would wipe under his nose, sniffing at nothing. "Do you need any paper or pen?"

I looked at him and shook my head. "No, I can remember it all."

"Impressive! I didn't know that."
Of course you didn't.

"So, first question is.." I thought quickly. Shit, I should've thought of these before!

"What do you think is..." I took notice of the bottom of his desk. The brown wood had numbers engraved into them. Noticing some quotations around the numbers I realized that the engravings were actually height markings. "most important between money, friends, and family?"

He cleared his throat and say up straighter. "I'd say... family," Lucas said, "friends can be family and the have money, so it all works out."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. I smiled at him and nodded. "Next question is-"

"Dad?" And one again Riley interrupted. "are you busy?"

Lucas didn't even look at me or hesitate when he answered what she wanted to hear. "Not for long, why? What did you need?"

Riley walked up behind the chair I sat on. She played with her hands nervously. "Well," she glanced at me and then at him. "It's kind of private."

"Oh, Well Wyatt wouldn't mind waiting outside for a bit, would you Wyatt?" Lucas said.

I looked up at him and then at her. They both starred at me, waiting for me to get up and leave. "Well?"

"I'll be outside." Standing up, I walked out his office and sat on the seat outside. I heard the slam of his office door as it closed.

You should've said that you did mind.
This is why they treat you like shit. You let them.

"Wyatt?"

I looked towards the voice and meet with June. Her dark eyes glared at me, but quickly masked it with a smile. "What are you doing here?"

Shrugging my shoulders, I didn't dare speak. "Do you need something?"

Show your true colors, c'mon, show them.

"Alright, well you better move along, the cleaning ladies are coming this way so you'll be in their way." June waited for me to get up. I didn't.

"I'm serious, Wyatt. You need to move." She grabbed my arm and launched me up. She walked me out to the corridor and towards the front door. "You know, if you were a good girl, you would've probably been his favorite, but considering that you have awful manners he-"

"Let go of my arm!"

June gasped, "Did you just raise your voice at me?!" She practically yelled.

Footsteps were heard coming towards us. Lucas and Riley came to our view and Donald came from the doorway next to them. "She raised her voice at me!"

Lucas glared, "You have no reason to-"

"She didn't-" Donald started only to be interrupted by Riley.

"She's been acting out. Auntie has been telling me ask about it. She doesn't know what do to." She gave me an innocent look. I almost wanted to punch her.

Lucas didn't say anything to me. Donald grabbed his coat and his keys. "I'll take her home. I'll see you guys later."

With that, June walked away and Riley. Donald held the door open as he waited for me. Lucas walked closer to me and some lowly. "How do you expect for us to have a good relationship if you can't even respect my family?"

Biting the inside of my lip, I refused to cry. "Until you learn to behave, don't bother." He walked away towards his office.

I stood in shock. I looked around their big, clean, polished house. I didn't know what to do. How do I even react?

"Wyatt, let's go, hun."

I wiped away my wet eyes and took in a breath. The cool air calmed me down. Facing Donald, I followed him out to his car, silently getting in.

"You know, this will blow over. He's been stressed out lately. Don't take it to heart, I promise he didn't mean it." He said as he drove out of the neighborhood.

Deciding to stay quiet the whole ride, I thought of how my life would have turned out if I was in Riley's shoes.
Would I still be the same person, but with a relationship with my father? Would I have called him 'Dad' instead of Lucas? Would I be happy? Would he love me?

Before I knew it, we were already in Donald's drive way. I read the time on his dashboard and noticed the sun already settling. "I'll get Gerard to walk you home."

"Don't." I didn't said and got out.

I ignored him calling me as I crossed the road. I walked up the steps, not caring this time if I was crying. Walking in and closing the door behind me, I noticed the house was silent. Nothing was on, nothing was moved.

In the kitchen, on the counter, a note laid. The yellow sticky note rolled from the bottom. An old chewed on pen rested next to it.

Went out with friends. Don't stay up to late!
-Mom

I licked my salty lips and headed down to the basement to practice. I didn't want to moap around and sleep with negative feelings. I wanted to take my anger and hurt out on to my piano.

I wanted my fingers to crumble into nothing. To hurt into oblivion with me not quitting. I was going to push myself if it meant my fingers would bleed, if it meant my wrists would pop, if it meant my arms and hands would ache.