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Nathan groaned and scrubbed his face, watching his mom drink her third glass of wine as she spoke to Pickles’ mom about how wonderful Seth was. God this weekend was going to blow bloody chunks and not in a good way. He glanced over at Pickles who looked about half sick as his leg bounced a thousand miles an hour, puffing incessantly on a joint from where he sat besides Toki’s mom. The woman in robes sat silently next to Pickles not saying whether or not she opposed his drug use, which is probably why he chose to sit there. Skwisgaar had slipped out with Toki twenty or so minutes ago, as soon as Toki started slipping into his punishment hole. Nathan silently envied them sighing loudly doing his best to ignore Skwisgaar’s mom who had started talking shit about her son as soon as she entered the room with Murderface’s grandma who kept slapping the bassist on the back of the head anytime the curly haired man moved. Visible anger boiled inside of Murderface as he glared daggers into his grandmother’s soul. “Don’tch you dare stare at me like that William!” Murderface’s grandmother smacked hard across his ear. “Ow! Hey you witch! You made my earsch ring!” Murderface whined, favoring his injured ear. His grandma raised her hand to strike him again, stopping as Charles opened the doors to the living room. “Uh… Boys you have to work on...“ Charles looked down at a little sticky note he held in his hand that Nathan had written to him earlier in the night to help him remember what to say if he needed to lie. “The new super secret album now.” Nathan growled as his mom pinched his cheek lovingly. “Awe Nate. You never told me you were making another album. Go have fun, baby!” The large man rolled his green eyes. “Mom. That’s not brutal.” Nathan muttered as he scurried out, following closely behind his other bandmates and CFO happy to escape their mothers even if it was just for a little bit.
Rose Explosion sat back in her seat with a sigh looking at the coffee table mournfully as Serveta took a seat beside her, the Swede's tight red dress shifting and revealing more than even Rose was comfortable with. “I don’t understand why you look so bent out of shape Rose. You know they are just going to be lazy jackoffs and get nothing done like usual.” Molly said, rolling her eyes and priming her updo in the camera of her phone. Rose stared at Molly incredulously, missing the way Anja took refuge beside Serveta in a similar fashion that their sons would often huddle together anytime they had felt threatened in the past. “Yeah, they’re probably blowing all our money on drugsch and alcohol!” Stella agreed loudly from her place on her scooter, moving it closer to where the other girls had sat. Serveta sighed and shrugged, swirling the wine in her glass. “I don’ts knows whats your sons ams doingks but Skwisgaar ams de fastest guitar player in de worlds. He ams probably doingks all of de works.” Her snotty voice sent shivers of anger throughout Rose’s entire body. Instantaneously Molly started bragging about Seth once more with Stella and Serveta agreeing and saying horribly degrading things about their own children. Rose glanced over at Anja who looked entirely uncomfortable in the situation huddled over with the same pained expression her son had held not too long ago when he expressed he was in need of a break. “Nos offence Anja, buts I can’ts believes mys son be wantingks to settles down wit Toki. He could marries anybodys. But he marries Toki.” Serveta’s condescending voice caught Rose’s attention as Anja merely shifted in her seat uncomfortably. “Yes!” Molly nearly yelled, taking a drink of her wine before pointing at Serveta. “I agree! Our boys could do better, Serveta. I normally couldn’t care who Pickles married but Nathan ? Could he have chosen a more-” Rose felt her anger boil over at the patronizing way Molly said her darling boy’s name. “That’s enough!” Rose screamed abruptly standing from her seat, causing the other mothers to jump in surprise. “What the hell Rose?” Stella asked hesitantly, scanning Rose’s face for something that Rose couldn’t quite figure out. “I’ve had enough of hearing you all rag on your sons every time we all come together.” Rose’s voice shook in anger as she glared at each of her friends. “We are all friends only because our sons were friends for so long. I think that we all learned to tolerate this because we didn’t know what else to talk about at the time but in all honesty, I don’t think any of us actually like it. We barely know each other outside of this dynamic. Molly, our sons are getting married in a month and I know nothing about you besides this. Serveta, what do you know about Anja?” Rose asked, her voice full of emotion and she gestured from one woman to the next. Serveta looked at Anja and shrugged, crossing her legs in annoyance. “Don’ts knows nothingks when she won’ts talks to me.” Rose nodded and sat back down. “What do you schuggescht we do then?” Stella asked, her face morphing into a similar expression to one her grandson wore when he was upset. “I think we should genuinely talk. Maybe get some things off our chests?” Rose suggested, in reality, she had no idea she had acted on impulse and was paying the price, something Nathan seemed to inherit more from her than from his father. “Scho you mean like therapy.” Stella’s face turned in disgust as Molly stood, laughing at the mere idea and waving her free hand as if to dismiss the thought. “I’m sorry Rose. But, I don’t have time to play games tonight. I’m here to have fun, and get tipsy.” From the few times Rose had met Pickles, she could count on a single hand exactly how many times he had ever mentioned his home life to her. But, just by looking at how Molly tried so desperately to deflect and avoid the issue with alcohol, she could see exactly where Pickles picked up his habit of avoidance. Just as Rose opened her mouth to respond, Serveta held her finger up to the group, gaining their attention while also silencing them all at the same time. Anja had leaned over and was whispering something in Norwegian to Serveta. From the confused look on Serveta’s face, it was a little harder for her to translate what Anja was saying than it was for Skwisgaar, who had been translating for the majority of years. Finally when Anja leaned away from Serveta, Rose could see just how shocked the blonde looked. “Uh… Anja wanteds to gets somethingks off her chests. She says it ams times to gets to knows one anothers.” Molly rolled her dark eyes as she sat back down, this time across from where Rose sat as if in a last ditch attempt at defiance. “Fine. but if this is a waste of my time, I’m leaving.” Molly warned, her nose held high as she took a large sip out of her glass and refilled it with a copious amount of wine. Anja leaned back over to Serveta and started whispering again, stopping every so often to see if Serveta needed anything repeated. Serveta’s eyes filled with tears as she listened, nodding along, her mouth was slightly agape in awe as she listened to the frail woman speak. Finally when Anja was finished, Serveta took a steadying breath and dabbed her eyes dry. “Anja says dat: She ams feelingks very guilty about how Toki was raised. She hads no says in how her huskbands treatsed him or her duringk dat time. She was forced intos marriages at very youngs age and hads Toki youngs. When her husbands said Toki was a curse she dids everythings she coulds to keeps Toki safe. She even defied de church. De village was all she knows til Toki rans away from home. She never knew she was doingks anythingks wrong until den. She knows it ams not an excuse for de brutals way hes ams raised buts she hopes Toki forgives her one days. She don’ts care what he does with hims moneys or fame, she onlys wants whats best for hims now.” Stella nodded sadly, staring at the floor in contemplation. Rose stood from her seat and walked over to Anja as neither woman was unable to stop the tears from flowing openly. “Anja, thank you so much for being so open with us. It must have taken so much courage to get through what you did. Both you and Toki have come so far since leaving the village.” Rose laid her hand gently on Anja’s shoulder earning a tiny smile of appreciation from the cloaked woman. “I’ll go next if that’s ok.” Rose said hesitantly, ignoring the way Molly rolled her eyes. “I feel guilty that I failed Nathan as a mother. He was never able to graduate highschool, or get his GED. And I have to wonder if his inability to retain information now has anything to do with his speech impediment he had as a child. What if we had gotten him help sooner or transferred him to a better school? Oscar and I did what we believed was our best at the time, I know that. But at the same time, could we have done more for him? And if we did, would he have turned into who he is today? Is it selfish of me to even feel guilty if it would make my son feel unhappy? I just don’t know and feel so inadequate.” Rose sighed and sat back down in her seat with her head in her hands. Stella watched Rose with wide eyes as Serveta laid a gentle hand on her back. “Rosche…” Stella started softly, moving her scooter closer to Rose and taking her hand gently into her own. Rose could feel the cold clamminess of Stella’s hand as it shook in her own. “You are not a bad mother.” Stella started, taking a steadying breath and glancing towards the door for William before continuing. “Your love for your schon showsch in everyone of your actionsch. If anyone here hasch failed as a mother… it would be me. My schon not only killed himschelf but hisch wife asch well because of a reaschon we will never know. I dischplaced my anger onto William for scho long now, I don’t know if he’ll ever forgive me. I should have been more grateful that he schurvived… but in reality I was scho afraid that he would turn out like hisch father that I emotionally cut myself off from ever having a healthy relationship with him.” Stella wiped a tear from her eye, ignoring the way everyone stared at her in awe. “Stella…” Molly said hesitantly, scanning the elderly woman’s face. “I-I never knew I’m so sorry.” Stella shrugged, her wall of invulnerability going back up. “Like Rosche said, we never really talked.” Stella nodded at Rose, squeezing her hand lightly before letting it fall back onto her lap. “I ams… not prouds of how I raised Skwisgaar.” Serveta said suddenly, she sat up straight but her arms were wrapped so defensively around herself that Rose thought if she relaxed even a little the blonde might unravel in front of them all. “I was sos focused on myselfs dat I sometimes lost sight of whats ams right in front of mes. Skwisgaar was a surprises. I was youngs too, Anja. I was nots ready for hims. But, when mys mothers threws me outs for getlingks pregnant, I dids what I hads to. I was not prouds of whats I hads to do at first but… it becomes habituals after a while.” Serveta looked ashamed as she stared holes into the floor. Anja linked her arm with Serveta in a silent show of acceptance and understanding. Molly shifted in her seat uncomfortably as Rose glanced over at her. “You don’t have to share anything you don’t feel comfortable with.” Rose said softly. Molly met Stella’s dark eyes and sighed, swirling the wine in her glass before speaking. “I never meant to act as if I were favoring Seth over Pickles… It’s just…” Molly paused and sipped at her wine, clearly not drunk enough to feel comfortable talking about anything so deep and personal. “When Pickles had turned three, Seth required so much more of my attention because of his learning disabilities. Calvert had picked up a second shift at his job, but drank twice as much at home around this time too and started to take his anger out on the boys…” Molly took another drink from her glass before filling it to the brim once more. “Someone from the school that Seth was going to called CPS once they saw the bruises. I struggled all summer to get my sons back. Never hearing from CPS where they were, if they were safe, or if they were kept together as I had requested since Pickles was still so small. On the home front, I battled the evil stares that the other mothers gave me by giving the excuse that Seth and Pickles were off visiting family in the country for the summer, to help Pickles’ asthma, and since Calvert worked so much I stayed behind to see that he was well fed. After that summer, the boys returned home, but neither of them were ever the same. I ran to be on the school board, so that if CPS was ever called again, I’d have enough clout to make sure they wouldn't be taken from me again. But, as time edged on, I realized that my name in the town was needed to cover more for my sons’ misdeeds and crimes to keep them out of jail than out of foster care. When Pickles ran away from home… I had never felt so disgraced and disappointed in myself in my entire life. I did my best to keep Calvert from harming them physically, but it turns out he had been hurting them mentally for much longer than I could have ever known. I worried about his well being every single day he was missing. For three years I prayed and waited for some type of response, either Pickles himself would walk through the door unharmed or a police officer would knock on my door and tell me the worst news I could ever bear to hear. Eventually I was so desensitized to the worst that by the time I saw Pickles on a build-board for Snakes N’ Barrels I don’t think it registered that I was looking at my son. It wasn’t until Seth had said a friend of his had seen a concert of thiers and Pickles had autographed his merch that the anger really set in. Pickles had been alive for three years and not once called me to say he was ok? I think that was the final shift for me. During those three years I dedicated my life to nothing but finding Pickles, dead or alive. I needed to know where my baby was. But in a single instant I was forced to realize, my baby didn’t want to know where I was, nor did he care enough to call. That’s the moment I dedicated my full strength and time into the child that stayed, Seth. Seth was the one who threw himself in front of me when his father moved to hit me. Seth was the one that when his father spent all of his pay on liquor, was willing to use his paycheck to help pay the bills to get us through the month. Seth had dreams that always included us, and although I do wish he knew he could have more autonomy with his dreams, I’m grateful knowing that he’ll be there whereas when Pickles left he never looked back.” Molly cleared her throat of emotion as she finished speaking, downing her full glass of wine and looking into the ashtrays for a stray roach her son might have left behind. The other mothers sat silently with tears streaming down their faces. Serveta was the first to move, taking a shaky sip of her wine before she spoke. “I ams sorry you wents through dat.” Molly shrugged, seemingly unbothered. “In my mind, the Pickles I raised died many years ago… who you see now? That's not my Pickles.” Stella looked at Molly sternly, pointing her bloated finger at her angrily. “As a mother who actually loscht her schon. That’sch bullschit.” Molly glared daggers at Stella as she grabbed another bottle of wine from the shelf. “Look, Stella, I'm sorry for your loss but, you can’t tell me how to grieve.” Stella shook her head, making her grey curls shift slightly. “It’sch not about not grieving. It’sch learning to accept what your schon has grown into today. Schtop focusing on the pascht and focusch on the present.” Serveta nodded and crossed her legs. “I ams goingks to haves to agrees, Molly. It amn’ts going to be easy and mays take a long times. But take it steps by steps.” The box dyed redhead nodded and sat, “Maybe you’re right… maybe I should tell Pickles how proud I am of him. Because I am… truly.” Rose nodded in agreement. “My Nathan has come so far since he was a boy. He used to never be able to speak a word and now he’s the lead singer in a band of his own. Oscar and I never would have dreamed that for him.” Serveta hummed in agreement. “Skwsgaar was always such a shy kid… he used to carry around a stuffed animals everydays and hide behinds it. After he founds hims guitar, he suddenly becomes a very outgoings guy.” Stella smiled fondly at a distant memory. “The firscht time William told usch he wasch going to become famous, he was sixch yearsch old and schwore if we were alive by then, he’d take care of usch the rescht of our livesch.” Anja whispered something into Serveta’s ear that made the blonde smile fondly. “She says dat when Tokis was little he made a guitars out of sticks, strings from hims clothes, and a pan he founds in de forests. She helped him to hides it from hims father until he could gets a real ones.” The women all laughed fondly, sharing loving memories of their sons as they cried.
An hour had passed before Nathan slammed the doors open to the living room followed closely by the rest of the band. “Hey. We got the recording session over early so-“ Nathan paused and his eyes widened as Rose ran over and threw her arms around her son, her tears soaking into his black shirt. “Mom h-have you been crying?” Nathan asked uncharacteristically softly, holding her at arms length to get a better look at her red, puffy face. Rose smiled and pulled her son down to her level, gently kissing his cheek and hugging him tight once more. “Oh, we were just talking about how proud we all are of you all. I just got worked up is all.” Nathan hummed in annoyance but allowed his mother to continue to hold him, gently patting her back with a roll of his green eyes. Anxiety washed over the boys in waves as they examined their mother figures. Just how much had they had to drink?
Serveta stood from where she was sitting, pulling Anja along with her, to stand in front of their sons. “Skwisgaar…” Serveta met her son’s eyes, doing her best to look confident despite feeling quite nervous. “Ams wonderingk if you woulds like to spends time withs us… just de fours of us?” Skwisgaar’s eyes flicked between his mother and mother-in-law’s faces, searching for some hint of a joke as he felt Toki bury his hands into the back of his shirt as the shorter brunette tried desperately to hide behind him. “Why?” Skwisgaar asked, his fingers twitched anxiously at his sides, aching for either his guitar or his husband’s hand. “Wes hasn’t had just familys time in sos long. Times to reconnect and talks.” Skwisgaar looked as if he wanted to say something nast and sarcastic back to his mother, something that would have made her leave both him and Toki alone for the rest of the weekend to their peace. But, the genuineness in his mother’s eyes, a kindness he hadn’t seen in such a long time, melted his heart and made him reconsider. Glancing back at Toki, he waited until the younger man met his icy blue eyes to gain his approval. By the look on Toki’s face, he could already tell that Skwisgaar was set on doing whatever made Toki most comfortable. “Ams ok if you're dere Skwis.” Toki whispered, peeking over Skwisgaar’s shoulder at his own mother’s steely gaze wincing away as their eyes met. “Ams you sure Toki? We cans-“ Toki cut Skwisgaar off with a quick shake of his head. “Nopes. Ams ok.” Gently reassuring his husband, Toki wrapped his arms tightly around Skwisgaar’s waist, burying his face in his back as he played with the hem of Skwisgaar’s shirt. The blush plaguing Skwisgaar’s face grew, winding his fingers with Toki’s trying his best to prevent his ambitious husband from becoming any more rambunctious in front of their parents. “Ah… w-what’s time dos you wants to meets? Maybes we can alls go gets dinners or somethingks tonight.” Serveta hid the smirk that was growing on her lips as she nodded. “Whenevers you ams hungry, Skwisgaar. Ams not picky.”
Murderface felt himself tense as his grandmother rolled closer to him. The same stoic look she always gave him plastered on her wrinkled face. He couldn’t help but start to feel defensive without her even saying a single word to him yet. “William.” Stella started softly, her tenderness only sent shockwaves of fear and anxiety throughout his entire body. The last time he actually remembered his grandparents ever being so heartfelt about anything was the first and last time they ever took him to see his parents grave site, explaining how they died. “I think we should have a talk.” Stella motioned for her grandson to follow her. But, when Murderface refused to budge, instead choosing to glare angrily at the floor with his fists clenched instead, Stella sighed and turned to face him. “No. I have nothing to talk to you about. Unlessch you or de old man need schomething then pl-“ William cut himself off before he could finish his sentence. Stella had taken William’s hand and flipped it to look at the calluses on his fingers and mostly healed self harm scars. “You need to take better care of your schelf William.” Stella chided, her thumb sliding tenderly against one of her grandson’s many calluses. Murderface groaned and rolled his eyes, tugging limply at his hand to pull it away from Stella’s grasp. “What are you calling me fat now too?” Murderface said growling in aggravation. Stella sighed and smacked William on the back of the head lovingly.
Molly glanced at Pickles from where she sat on her seat. The conversation she had had earlier still ran wildly through her mind as her eyes met her runaway son’s bright green eyes. The fear and anxiety that flashed through him was palpable and it was apparent to Molly that he was searching for some form of an exit strategy. She debated half heartedly on just letting Pickles leave without bothering him. Just go about their unspoken agreement they seemed to have come to terms with long ago. The old: I won’t acknowledge you if you won’t acknowledge me. Game truly was becoming old though. Molly swallowed the last of her wine as a last ditch effort to find courage before approaching Pickles. She was able to feel more drunk than she let on due to her many years of hidden alcoholism but she was sure she smelled like a winery all the same. Pickles visibly tensed, his nose wrinkling as he stared at his mother in disgust, glancing at his fiancé every so often just to be certain he was still there. If Nathan hadn’t been present, Molly was sure Pickles would have bolted at the first sight of her, she had to give him credit for that at least. “Pickles.” Molly started, sounding more snide than she had intended to be. Pickles rolled his eyes at her. “What did I do now?” He snapped back, nearly making Molly reconsider talking to Pickles. But as Serveta said, it wouldn’t be easy. Molly took a deep breath trying her best not to yell or demean Pickles. “Can’t I just congratulate my son on his upcoming wedding?” Molly asked sarcastically, wincing as the words flowed from her mouth. She truly needed to take lessons from Rose on how to talk to her son. “Why?” Pickles asked defensively. “So you can tell me-“ Molly held up her hand to silence Pickles. “I just wanted to tell you how proud I am.”