The news had been circulating for weeks rumors in the media, whispers among close friends, knowing glances from those who were in on the secret. But now, Mick had it confirmed: his precious relic, his brightest treasure, his child, was in a relationship.

And not with just anyone.

"This can't be," Mick muttered, pacing the room with exaggerated movementsa mix between a ritual dance and an existential crisis. "Not with them! They're a walking disaster! A mess!"

David, on the other hand, sat on the couch with his legs crossed, watching the scene unfold.

"Mick, darling, they're young. It’s normal…"

"IT’S NOT NORMAL!" Mick pointed at him dramatically. "You're supposed to set the rules! You're the responsible adult here!"

"Me?" David blinked, genuinely surprised. "Mick, you look more like the authoritative one…"

"HA! Me? The guy who’s spent half his life dancing in tights and kissing half the world?" Mick put his hands on his hips, outraged. "You're the intellectual, the one who's supposed to have the discipline of a proper British gentleman…"

"That’s just an act, love. In reality, you can see I have no idea how to handle this."

Sitting in the chair in front of them, you watched the scene unfold with a mix of amusement and resignation. You knew this conversation was bound to happen sooner or later.

"Alright, can I defend myself?" you interrupted calmly.

Mick immediately turned to you.

"There’s no defense! Your partner is a lost cause! A scandalous, chaotic rockstar the kind that ends up in tabloids for reasons I’d rather not know about!" David let out a small chuckle but cleared his throat when Mick shot him a sharp look.

"There’s nothing funny about this, Bowie."

"Oh, but there is," David grinned, resting his chin on his hand. "Our child fell for someone who's basically the modern version of the two of us. It’s poetic."