ChromedOutCortex

Scene - Dad is out with his son. Parents are divorced, dad has his kid every other weekend so they are not close but both are trying. If you were to read this could you tell that it's the son thinking this? The story is being told from the dad's POV. Just before this, dad is asking son some questions while they wait to order dinner. Why does he keep asking me about school? It’s not like he even knows what’s going on. Maybe he’s trying, but it’s been too long. We’re not super close, not like we used to be. I stare at the screen, not really paying attention to anything. I scroll through, mostly to avoid the silence between us. He’s trying too hard, I think. And part of me feels bad about it. But another part? I just don’t know how to be around him anymore. Not after everything. He’s still asking me questions, but I keep my answers short. What’s the point? It’s awkward every time we talk. I know he’s waiting for me to say something, to open up, but… what’s the point? Mom tells me to give him a chance, that he’s trying to make things right. But how can I just forget? How can I act like nothing happened?

The silence between us was like a live wire—I could feel the static in every breath. I wanted to ask him what he was hiding but couldn’t force the words out. “Michael,” David said, breaking the silence. “Yeah?” He hesitated, something uncharacteristic for him. “You know, I’ve always been confident in myself. I’ve lectured you pretty harshly before about owning your story.” I smiled faintly. “I remember. You made me feel like a five-year-old being scolded.” David chuckled

@Headstall - Thanks, my bad for misunderstanding. 🙂 I really need to go back to the story and revisit what I did! LOL!

This is definitely good information - I've tried different things a few times, such as identifying who is saying what was was mentioned by @Headstall in an earlier post, or using italics. I am also trying what @LJCC said... I know I've failed a few times, because readers have told me that they couldn't make out who was saying what. Hopefully in the new story I'm working on, I can nail it. 🤞

They are. I'm just not very good at writing that into stories, trying to focus on life outside of sex.

The relief and excitement that washed over me in that moment was almost overwhelming. For the first time, I felt like I was building something meaningful—not just for myself, but for us. The next few months were a whirlwind for David and me. Every morning, David joined me at the café, diving headfirst into the operations. After introducing him as my business partner, he naturally took charge of the kitchen, soaking up everything Roger and Janice had to teach. He learned the equipment, memor

I was scrolling idly through my phone, trying to kill time before we met up for drinks. The quiet hum of the hotel air conditioner was the only sound in the room, and I was just starting to relax when there was a knock at the door. I wasn’t expecting Tony this soon, so I hesitated for a moment before getting up. Opening the door, I was greeted by a sight that threw me completely off balance: Tony stood there, hotel slippers, wearing nothing but a hotel robe loosely tied at the waist, reveal

Nearly two weeks passed. Each day was a torturous cycle of checking my phone, wondering if he’d call, and resisting the urge to reach out again. Finally, one evening, my phone buzzed. A text from Andre: “I’m done with work early tonight. Meet me at Bill’s. You remember the place, right? Be there at 8. You’ll get one hour.” I remembered Bill’s—it was a small restaurant we’d stumbled upon during one of our trips. The memory stung, but I knew I had to go. As I stepped into Bill’s, I

The waiting area was a restless sea of faces, illuminated by the cold, artificial glow of fluorescent lights. Jake Landers sat near the window, his carry-on bag tucked neatly at his feet. Outside, planes taxied on the rain-slicked tarmac, their movements steady and purposeful—a stark contrast to the uncertainty inside. He adjusted his watch for the third time that hour, trying not to think about the delay or how he’d ended up here, stranded between destinations and, perhaps, decisions. This

The airport terminal hummed with quiet chaos, the kind that came from too many people waiting for too few updates. The flight delay had stretched into its third hour, and the frustration was starting to settle like a low fog over the gate. I tapped my boarding pass against my knee, glancing at the time for the hundredth time, even though I already knew the answer. Across the room, I noticed him. He wasn’t doing anything remarkable—just scrolling through his phone with the kind of ease that

When a delayed flight strands two strangers at the airport, Jake Landers and Tony Hess find themselves unexpectedly drawn to one another. What begins as casual conversation over a drink soon deepens into something neither man anticipated. Against the backdrop of airport terminals and fleeting moments, they discover that chance encounters can spark life-changing connections. As the hours pass, their chemistry grows, leading to decisions that could redefine what they thought they wanted—and needed.

Hi Cane23 - Thanks for the comments, apologies for the slip - I'll have another look at it right now. :)

As I walked back to the living room, my mind raced. I knew that man in the photo. That was Andre—the SVP of our division. Charismatic, sharp, always in control. But how does Michael know him? Were they…? No. That’s not my business. I’m just the guy who rents him a room. Still, something about the photo—the intimacy, the familiarity—didn’t sit right with me. I glanced back toward the kitchen, where Michael sat rigid, now staring at his laptop like it might betray him further. His eyes were u

The first few shifts at the coffee shop were both great and difficult. Throw a 100-page contract on my desk, and I could breeze through it in no time. Put me in front of a tough client, and I could get them to agree to anything. But have me make coffee with anything more complicated than what I had back at the apartment? Well, that was another beast entirely. I must’ve ruined at least two or three dozen coffees that first week. Each time, Roger would come out, shake his head, and patiently

David is usually gone by the time I wake up, but today he was working from home. I did miss those mornings—early hours spent diving into work, Sarah would wake the kids up and prepare them for their day. Back then, life had a rhythm I enjoyed: the nanny would arrive, I’d grab my briefcase, and off I’d go to the office. It was a different kind of monotony, one that felt fulfilling. I made myself a quick breakfast—bacon, eggs and toast. David wasn’t a coffee drinker, so I’d bought a basic mac

Hint: There is. 😉

My phone buzzed one morning as I was scrolling through yet another list of job postings. Seeing David’s name on the screen, I answered quickly. “Hey David, what’s up?” I asked. “Are you moving in, Michael?” David’s voice was casual but curious. “Yeah, sorry I should’ve let you know. I’ve got some furniture coming next week, so I extended my stay at the Airbnb.” “Dude, that’s ridiculous,” David said with a laugh. “Look, I’ve got a cot here. Why pay for two places? Just move in

You are right; I think everyone had a chance to redeem themselves. Are they honest with themselves? Are they trying to make themselves better? Are they acknowledging what they did wrong? Are they correcting past mistakes? His parents - just pure evil.

As I walked away from the house where I grew up—where I lost myself—I didn’t dare look back. The memories of childhood had always seemed happy, but now I questioned their truth. Had I been manipulated all along? The answers didn’t matter anymore; even if I got them, how could I trust them? I had to leave. I had to start over. I had to find out who I was, away from the suffocating control of my parents. Yes, I had lost Sarah, Shawn, Samantha, and the child I’d never met. I had lost ever

Michael Evans destroyed lives. He shattered trust and never once owned up to his wrongs. Instead, he chose to run, believing that escaping was the solution. But the past doesn’t stay buried, no matter how far you run—it always finds a way to resurface, and when it does, it’s far more unforgiving. This is a continuation of the story, Straightening Affairs from Michael Evans point-of-view.

Manny came home later that evening, the sound of the door opening breaking the heavy silence in the apartment. “Robby? Are you home?” he called out, noticing the lights were off. The living room was still, my books sitting open on the table, untouched. “I’m in the bedroom,” I called back, my voice barely above a whisper. Manny walked into the room and flipped on the light. I was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the door as he entered. My face must have said it all becaus

The restaurant had a cozy vibe, warm lighting, and the faint smell of garlic and herbs hanging in the air. The hostess seated us quickly, and soon we were flipping through menus while a waiter poured water for the table. “Know what you want, or should I pick for you?” Cal asked, glancing over his menu. “I think I’ve got it,” I replied, trying to focus but still buzzing from his earlier comment about starting fresh. “Good. This place is great. It’s kind of a family tradition—first

The next few weeks were a blur of school and work, with barely any time to think. Sarah, Sophia, and Tanner hadn’t called, and honestly, I didn’t mind the silence. The credit card sat untouched on top of the fridge, its presence a constant reminder of how close I’d come to losing Manny. I’d promised him—and myself—that I’d never let them come between us again. Manny had left earlier in the day for a shift at the record store, and I stayed behind to finish a project. The apartment was quiet,

Five Years Later Time had marched on, and with it, the pieces of everyone’s lives had shifted into their new places. Sarah had her baby, a healthy baby girl she named Faith. Faith for the future, for what it would hold for her as a single mother of three. Shawn and Samantha, now ten years old, adored their baby sister and often squabbled over who got to hold her or play with her next. Ryan had spent years in therapy, confronting the scars he had buried deep within himself. The weig

The next day, I paid closer attention to Cal. Not in a weird, creepy way—just observing. Did he get weird if I talked to someone else? Did he care? Turns out, he didn’t. He was his usual self, easygoing and open. Even when I got up to talk to some classmates, he didn’t seem fazed. Maybe I’d read too much into the other day. By the time the last block rolled around, I headed to the library for my study session. I opened my books and started reviewing when, sure enough, Cal strolled over