Warnings: argument? Derealization, unreality
Word count: 1268
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"I don't know who you think I am," my father said in a British accent. Layla zooms on.
"You're Marc Spector. You can drop the act, we're in a safe location," Layla says, brows furrowed.
"I really am Steven Grant! I don't know any Marc!" he exclaims. Perspiration rolls down his forehead. It looks like he's telling the truth, but he looks exactly like my father! Amnesia, maybe?
Holding my cane in my lap, I notice Steven staring at it for a brief second before fixating his gaze on my mom again.
"Dad..." I start.
"Woah, hold on. 'Dad'?" he double-takes.
"Do you see the spiral you put me through? It's not okay, yeah? I'm still your wife. By the way, this would be a great time for you to say something. Anything. Just in case it's not clear," Layla sighs, her curly hair being blown into his face.
"Sorry, sorry... Did you say wife? My... Are we married?" he pauses.
"Look, I'm pretty sure we lost whoever was chasing you. Just drop the act," I tell him.
"It's not an act. I..." he says, as if he's unsure of his words, "This is how I talk."
"It's a really bad accent," I tell him.
Offended, he clutches his pearls, "No it's not!"
"Get off," Layla says, hitting the breaks, causing me to lurch foreword.
"No, no, no. Wait, wait, wait. Please. Please, I will tell you everything, just get me to my flat, yeah? Just get me home," Steven stammers.
Layla scoffs and takes off again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
His apartment is a bit scatterbrained. There's a shelf sagging under the weight of so many books, covered in dust. There is sand around his bed and some sort of chain connected to a pole. That's definitely not weird.
There's a huge fish tank with a goldfish inside that's on a very small table. I'm surprised it hasn't fallen. His desk is completely covered in books to the point you can't even see what the table top looks like. One is opened to a page about the Ennead, the Egyptian God lineage.
"Uh, this is your flat, Marc?" Layla asked him, letting her fingertips brush against some old pages of a book.
"Um, I'm Steven," he deadpans.
I make the kind of face Jim Halpert makes whenever he looks at the camera.
"Are you living here with someone else?" Layla asked, glancing at the chain thing.
"No, no,no. No, this is my mum's flat," he says, glancing at a mirror warily.
I lean on my cane and give him a weird look. He's estranged from his mother.
"Okay, so you guys are talking again?" Layla asked just as confused as I am.
"Mmm-hmm,"
"Marceline Desbordes-Valmore?"
"Yup,"
Layla starts reciting one of the poems in French and Steven joins in. Since I'm taking German in school, I don't understand a word.
Steven looks at her like a puppy would to it's human.
"Oui, oui. She's my favorite poet," he finally says after a minute of staring.
YOU ARE READING
To the Moon and Back {Marc Spector x daughter}
FanfictionAmaris Spector has always been a fighter. Ever since she was born, she pushed back, not letting her physical disability stop her. Unfortunately, her father, Marc Spector is missing and he has a few secrets of her own. With help from her step-mother...
