John wasn’t the best father, but he did try. Sometimes.

The thing is, he’s a single dad— him and your mother broke up when you were born, meaning you were left with John, and Cynthia had Julian, your older brother. The two of you lived in a small flat that was practical for it was near the studio him and his band recorded in.

You loved your dad, but he could be neglectful and got frustrated easily, having so many things on his mind— his band, you, money, food, etc etc.

One day, he had told you he was going to get you ready, because you were coming to the studio with him, but you threw a tantrum. This was normal; your behaviour was bad because your dad didn’t know how to deal with you. And so, John got angry, obviously. You guys were already running late, yet you were being extremely stubborn.

“If you don’t bloody get up when I get to to five, I’ll take you there with your pyjamas on.” He threatened, standing over you as you sat stubbornly on the ground, “One.. two.. three.. four..”