As usual, irritation soon turned into guilt as he looked into the overly injected and desperately stretched face of a former master of emotion. “Thank you for all that you’ve given me. I’m sorry to have fooled around too long. You’ve been overly generous in holding my hand through all of this, and I am deeply grateful. This is a great opportunity, and I will work around the director. Okay?”
He was nervous about such an outburst, and the damage it could do to his old man’s psyche. The shame carbonated his intestines, sank his heart, and pounded his brain. Sickened so suddenly that all passion in his own life and interests were regurgitated from his soul again. He dared to look at his father now, even though he knew what to expect from disrespecting a narcissist.
“They’re ready on the set.” The words came softly, and from behind distant eyes. The unphased fanatic had control, once again. Had center stage, once again. Had the spot light, once again.
“Keep it.”, the obedient son thought.