1. The Good Father

Seated looking perfectly calm on the chair facing Dr. Neilson, divided by a desk, is Mr. Edmund Codrin who tries hard to maintain the façade of calm because at the moment, he is engulfed in rage. “What do you mean he’s free to go? I’ve paid you a lot of money to keep him in here, good doctor,” Edmund said, stressing the words ‘money’ and ‘good doctor’. He crosses his arms, focusing on the doctor’s face, leaning back on his chair. This way, it will avoid him from jerking forward to punch the doctor’s face. It might happen. But he’s only contemplating it for now.

“But he had passed all of his psych eval. He’s not sick anymore. I’ve put him through those therapies I’ve told you about. He hardly remembers anything about you anymore, Mr. Codrin,” Dr. Neilson spoke, choosing his words carefully. He knows what kind of a man Edmund Codrin is. A man of wealth and power. The kind of person who have the brightest future in this corrupted world.

Edmund scoffs at the doctor’s explanation. It’s not even making sense. He refuses to accept this. “Then make up some sort of sickness to keep him here. I don’t want him to go home,” he insisted.

The doctor sighs. At this rate, he might never win against the hard-headed billionaire in front of him. Maybe a softer approach might work on this selfish father? “He’ll be eighteen in a few more months. He doesn’t need to be long in your house. He can live on his own. You’ve never once visited your poor kid, Mr. Codrin. Perhaps you should see for yourself how much your son had changed,” he persuaded.

Edmund laughs aloud to the persuasion. Like that would work! “I wouldn’t want to see that kid’s face ever again. The last time I saw him he was drenched in blood. My late wife’s blood. His own mother for God’s fucking sake!” he spat, clear disgust shown in his every word for his own son. At the back of his mind, he can still remember Lucca in his pajamas, drenched in blood, the kitchen knife in his hands, Patricia laid unmoving all bloodied on the floor, and that sick smile on his son’s face!

The good doctor sighs again. He can’t believe how a father is too disgusted of his own son that he refuses to believe how therapy had cured mental illness. “That was almost 10 years ago. He was disturbed. And at some point, you were the cause of it and you knew it,” the doctor accused. But it is of a knowing fact.

Edmund only smiles guiltily but he’s far from sorry. And he thought of those fucks he had with his own son. How old was Lucca back then? 8? It doesn’t matter now anymore. But those were the only good times he can remember about Lucca. How submissive Lucca was to him. “And I’ve paid you enough money to keep your mouth shut about it, good doctor,” he reminded Dr. Neilson. How dare this doctor blamed him for the derailed mind of his son, he thought to himself. Should he shove more money into his mouth?

“Yes. You’ve paid me a lot. Even to the point where I had breached my client-psychiatrist confidentiality. It was all because of your money. But I’ve been with your son for about a decade that I’ve seen enough what a good, innocent boy he is. You shouldn’t blame him for what had happened. He is well now. Very well, Mr. Codrin,” he stresses the word ‘well’ that it makes Edmund feels sick to his stomach at this doctor’s obvious favor in his son.

Scoffing, Edmund leans closer to the doctor’s face by stamping both of his palms on the desk, indicating threat of violence. “I can sense your bias for him in each of your word, doctor,” he said.

The doctor trembles a little at that small indication of threat coming from Edmund. But he thinks of his days where he had surpassed beyond the right code of conduct in his career. For once, he wanted to do what is right. So he admitted. “Indeed. I favored him.”

This is it, Edmund thought. He’s going to teach this doctor a lesson. As he’s about to launch his fist on the good doctor’s face, he heard a song coming from inside of the building. ~ I'm the one you've been thinking about, The one thing you can't live without, I'm the one you've been waiting for, I'll have you down on your knees, I'll have you begging for more ~ The sounds of an electric guitar being strummed and the voice of a young man which sounded much like his late father. His father was a well-known singer back in the old days. He haven’t heard anyone with such similar voice to his father until this and it makes him wonder. “Who’s that?”

The doctor smiles in relief. He knew he was about to be hit by this filthy man but the song had saved him from his fate. “Don’t you remember? You bought him a guitar when he asked one for his last birthday. That’s your son,” Dr. Neilson said.

What Dr. Neilson said had Edmund leaned back on his chair in disbelief. “That’s my Lucca? I didn’t buy him anything. I just gave money to my secretary to buy him things. She’s the one who’s even supposed to come today but she got sick, damn it.” His voice had softened down a bit. And he’s lost in thoughts as he keeps listening to the song.

They both fell under the spell of silent as they listen to the song played by Lucca all the way from his room until he finishes singing. “Don’t you want to at least visit him? Once? And then decide on your own,” Dr. Neilson persuaded the man one last time.

“Hmm..” is all the answer he got from Edmund.