i guess that's why i live in hell.

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For whatever reason, he was surprised to see the familiar face there. Eisley, that was her name, right? He had taken her out for drinks and shown her a couple places in the city. Though he found her mildly reserved like his brother, he wasn’t complaining. These days, the loudness and constant volume around him left quiet to be desired, and that did not exclude the silence of himself as a loud-mouthed musician. Perhaps it was another factor into his recent withdrawal socially, reverted to an attitude of mild shyness when talking to a few people or lackadaisical responses to those close to him. His vibrant energy was nearly reserved for stage right now, exhausted with the world around him and unable to muster the mask of his energetic self that he would put on. “Hey you, what’s kickin’?” Hosea greeted with a tiny smile, looking down at his daughter when she complimented her, “You gonna say thank you or what, ‘genia?” Like when Kasha was young, he found he had to occasionally prompt her to express her manners, relieved when the dark-haired girl returned her focus and said thank you before squirming in his arms. Put me down! “Fuck, fine-- please, stay where I can see you, please. Go find your cousin.” Urging her to seek out Diego, who was playing in his field of vision near a tree, he let out a dry chuckle. The sentiment was clearly appreciated; still, he shook his head and looked back to her with a wry smirk, replying, “God, do I wish? How it’s really gonna play out, though, is she’s gonna go to sleep and two seconds after I lay my head down on that pillow, Amaris is gonna wake up and cry for her bottle. Two months. I thought they were totally shittin’ me when they said she was gonna get fussier,” Hosea said, puffing out his cheeks. Arms raising to cross over his chest, nodding toward her costume, “You look totally badass, by the way. I would not get the reference to save my life, it’s nobody’s fault but my own.” Sincerely, he should pay more attention now that he had a television, Netflix, and whatever the fuck else in the entertainment department. He’d never been avid with modern media or games. 

Slightly out of breath and mildly at a loss for pride, the vocalist shook his head rapidly when the woman mentioned the sugar. Jesus, he didn’t think she’d had that much; maybe one of his sister-in-laws had slipped her extra candy when he hadn’t been looking. Now that he was here, he supposed he could attain a glass of water for her. “You’re tellin’ me... I’m not sure I’m gonna get any rest tonight,” he said softly, closing his eyes for a moment with a crooked smile-- and God, he was so fucking tired. It was no joke when the pediatrician told him two months was the hardest to deal with a baby. Two month old constantly crying and fussing, and a daughter who had as much energy as her-- adoptive father. Glancing over the woman’s dress, Hosea had the feeling he should understand the reference. It seemed Disney-related, after all,and he had been watching far too many Disney movies lately with Eugenia’s recent fascination for them. Oddly enough, his sister-in-law’s son didn’t seem too enamored with the typical kids’ entertainment. Shifting his weight to his other foot to keep his leg from cramping-- fucking tour rehearsal-- he looked back to her face. “My daughter must have recognized your costume...  I must be that f-- freakin’ tired, I swear I can’t recall it right now. It’s on the fringes of my mind... Thanks for not, y’know, takin’ it the wrong way,” he said casually, concluding his jumbled words with a shrug. Not everyone took too kindly to children invading their personal space, regardless of the nature of the event.

Hosea waved a dismissive hand, understanding he hadn’t meant to actually cross a social boundary. Dark humor was his forte, and he figured most students this time of year were thinking about scenarios like that to drag themselves through their exams. Besides, the situation in high school had been nobody’s fault-- nor was it actually in the school. “It’s cool, seriously. Shit happens, y’know? No skin off my nose.” That aside, he was a terribly self-deprecating person and that tended to equate to his lack of self-value. Letting the dozy baby wrap her fingers around his pinky, he laughed when Bo mentioned fuckboys. Part of him dreaded for that age to come, mainly because of Kasha’s daughter. His sister had a knack for trouble and it concerned him that Eugenia might be privy to that. God only knew what mental fuckshit she had going on, given they had been similar individuals. Clasping his hands together, the raven-haired vocalist dipped his head and replied, “Trust me, if there’s gonna be fuckboys, I’ve got an amazin’ right hook and I am definitely not afraid to use it.” This wasn’t exactly the shotgun state, and he couldn’t see himself being one of those dads waiting with that in his lap-- he did harbor a sharp tongue prepared to chew out other parents on the phone if he needed to. “I just wonder if she’s gonna be anythin’ like her mama... she was a professional dancer and fuckin’... amazin’ at it. We used to skate together, back when I was in ice skatin’. It’s a long story. Right, ‘ris?” Smiling at his daughter, he wiggled his pinky, knowing it wasn’t the age he would be getting a laugh from her, let alone when she was sleepy. “Shit, dude, get that tattooed on your fuckin’ forehead, go all Post Malone about it,” Hosea joked, shifting to cross one leg over the other and checking the time on his phone before setting it face down on the table.

Needless to say, the last person he would ever expect to run into was a girl who he had basically scolded like a parent to stay away from the mosh pit, then bought water to hydrate her from the line of coke she’d just snorted. His confidence in his sobriety was still shaky back then; however, after deciding to sponsor one of his friends, he was a bit more confident in himself. He had to be, he realized, as he looked at the girl in his arms and thought about how shitty he would be as a father if he let his children down like that. Small world, Hosea thought, looking into her eyes. Faces were easily memorized-- names, he struggled with. Had they exchanged names? Did it matter now that he had changed his? Painstakingly, the vocalist hit the abrupt realization that he had lost his wife since then, among other things in life. Long time, no see. A soft chuckle left him, a genuine smile tugging at his lips, finding himself somewhat embarrassed that his daughter had run into her. “You’re really good with kids,” he thought to say, shifting the girl higher on his hip, who was now busy fawning over her father’s getup and-- “Ow, don’t pull my nose ring.” The scolding was followed by a sigh, recomposing and tilting his head when he could finally focus on the woman in front of him. “Hey... How are you doin’, darlin’? Is everythin’ alright?” Glancing at the cocktail, Hosea wished he could have one of his own, knowing he couldn’t with his two kids around. He’d just have to make his own when he got home after they’d been put to bed, knock himself out until the baby monitor woke him. Granite-like expression in his eyes had softened in heartbeats, swaying to attempt to assuade Eugenia’s unruly behavior, gesturing his head toward the young girl and adding, “This is, uh, my daughter. Eugenia, say hello to the pretty black cat.”

You know that, right? The question always stabbed him in the heart and twisted the knife around and around, digging a silent questioning of himself and what his children thought of him, which was admittedly an opinion he did care about. “I dunno if I’m... the best fuckin’ role model,” he confessed with a heaved sigh, lifting a hand to rub his eyes again, “I got lucky... with Orion, he was always a good kid, he never hurt anyone. I was a horribly fuckin’... volatile teenager, I sucked. I don’t wanna fuck them up somehow, especially knowin’... Eugenia might have issues, Amaris might develop issues, mentally. I never figured out how to deal with it with Kasha, I tried my hardest.” He was older now, but it felt like it didn’t matter sometimes, as if he were responsible for the weight of the world’s problems. Leaning to the side, he rested his head against Alice’s shoulder, thankful for her presence then. It wasn’t like he had a wife to talk to about his insecurities that had resurfaced, now more than ever, having a baby that depended on him again and disconcertingly on his lonesome. Heterochromatic gaze fixating on the flame dancing from the candle on the living room table, he nodded his head slightly against her, saying softly, “Yeah, he can... Mama doesn’t speak English that well, so it’s a good idea. Avo speaks English okay, but if you want, he can teach you Portuguese too... I’m probably overdue for a trip to Brazil, speakin’ of.” The thought was intimidating, the lengthy to-do list of what he needed to do from here and into the next year. Album, tour, two kids in between, NA meetings, the shack... see his family, see his other family. It was overwhelming, but he was sure Alice’s mind was equally reeling with the changes she was going through. “You wanna... meet the tribe sometime? Eventually. Like, next fuckin’ year or somethin’. I gotta get back there and have my baby blessed.” Humming, he drew his knees up onto the couch after he had kicked off his Doc Martens. Hosea wasn’t shy about his heritage if someone asked, though he didn’t necessarily talk about it everywhere either. Usually, his industrial bar was turquoise feathers and beads, similar colors to his native roots; currently, it was a festive skeleton. “But of course. Orion will help you out any way you need in linguistics, I fuckin’ suck at teachin’ language,” he said with a chuckle, sitting upright when she responded to him seriously. His eyebrows raised in momentary surprise, before shaking his head and replying, “When I had my heart broken the second time around, I went out and got my fuckin’ tongue pierced. It’s not crazy. Change helps you move on, don’t you think?” Seconds later, he gasped and smacked her arm lightly, gushing, “Are you gonna pierce your fuckin’ septum too?” Of course, he was referring to the Snapchat she had sent him ages ago, the shit-eating grin after he’d said it clarifying he was joking, clasping his hands around his jean-clad legs. “Do what you’ve gotta do, Alice. You’ll look amazin’. Y’know? You’re a beautiful girl. New chapter, new you. Even if you don’t know what’s comin’. Let me know and I’ll hook you up, I’m bleachin’ my hair for tour. Maybe you’d love it so much you’ll keep it.” Leaving his kids for a week was an anxiety-inducing thought he tried to push away, thinking about her question as a distraction and pursing his lips. “I have pictures... of almost everyone, there’s probably some outdated pictures of the cousins. Everyone else should be accurate. One of your cousins actually goes to school here in New York... you want me to set you guys up? Get to know each other.”

“You think so? I was kinda thinkin’ I’m doin’ a shit job goin’ it alone again... it’s been too long,” the raven-haired musician mumbled, sensing the bite of insecurity in his tone. He’d tried his hardest to shove it down and throw away the key; losing his wife had thrown him back to square one, convicted in the belief this might be his doing. Alice was right, though-- he loved his children more than anything in the world now and it was unbelievable what he’d do for them, everything he’d do for his siblings and more. On second thought, he was rarely selfish with those he cared for. Biting the tip of his tongue, staring down at his hands tucked in his lap, Hosea resolved to nod slowly. It was hard to say he needed help with it, reminding himself that at one time he had done it all by himself with one or two extra kids in tow. The notion he would be that weak now was hard to swallow. The past couple months had been arduous, struggling to juggle his children and work and his mental health, ultimately leaving his mental state to drown until he couldn’t breathe. It was easier to save the grief for nights when he was certain the bunch was down for bed for a few hours, to talk to the empty side of his bed like someone was still there to kiss his scars and tell him he was doing well. Instead, there was a ghost beside him every time Amaris cried that said it’s your turn, to which he mustered a reply to the nothingness-- it’s always my turn. Taking notice of his sister fighting a few tears, he reached out to place a hand on her shoulder and rub comfortingly, nodding his head and offering her a sympathetic smile. Experiencing emotions like those were normal, he thought, despite his awareness that the intensity he felt his own was atypical. Gaining a family was, for some, like having a child, the rush of emotions flooding through as if they had been present all along. Leaning his head against the back cushion of the couch, he turned his mismatched gaze to her when her sadness evolved to excitement, grinning crookedly. “Yeah, he loves books... he’s fuckin’ smart, you’ll like him. If you like photography, you can talk to my grandfathers about that, they both worked for National Geographic... just do not fuckin’ talk to them both about it-- your grandfather is so fuckin’ competitive, it drives me up a fuckin’ wall. Taka is pretty chill about it. Grandmother can tell you all about Brazil... I imagine the other one will be busy with dinner. God, the whole fuckin’ family is gonna be fuckin’ shocked that you’re not blonde anymore, you were so golden blonde as a toddler, I’m actually sad that it fuckin’ went away now that I know it was you...” Flicking her dark curls with a smirk, the older male winked at her playfully as he added, “You’d be a fuckin’ bombshell blonde, though. Tessa was blonde. Felix is sort of dirty blonde.” Turning his head to face the ceiling, Hosea chuckled and nodded. “Orion’s the scrapbook keeper, I’ll ask where he fuckin’ put them and bring them to you...” he agreed, lifting his hands to rub his tired eyes. 

“Eugenia!” It was not the first time he had exasperatedly uttered her name that evening, skirting and weaving through the people at the party to chase after the dark-haired four year old. Christ. Thankfully, he was hands-free after passing on the baby to Heather temporarily so he could actually scarf down the food being served, after stern insistence from the other party that he needed nutrients if he didn’t want to fucking drop dead. The grape in his mouth was nearly choked on when his oldest daughter took off from his side out of the blue chasing something and Hosea made a beeline after her. Apparently, not fast enough for the girl. A mild amount of embarrassment arose when she reached out her chubby hands and latched onto someone’s costume and tugged at the flimsy fabric, no doubt gushing about how much she liked it. An eye for fashion, unlike Hosea or his sister-- in fact, nobody in the family had an eye for it, so he wasn’t sure where she had picked it up. A light blush on his face bleeding through the makeup he had applied, he puffed out his cheeks and leaned down to scoop the young girl clad in a fairy costume up in his arms, mumbling, “I am so fuckin’ sorry... She’s not usually this hyper. I think she had too many of the Sugar Babies.”

“Jesus, don’t traumatize their asses. I’m sure my entire fuckin’ graduatin’ class got a free pass for the entire day when I got hospitalized.” As if they gave a rat’s ass; however, his foster family had been fairly influential in the school system as a donating party, an older couple that gave back to the system for many years. He didn’t miss going to school, nor did he feel as if he had missed out on an opportunity by skipping out on college. His calling had always been skirting the edge of the norm, testing the frays of society for a place that he could stand out comfortable without being bothered. She can just be an exception. The musician smiled, appreciating the sentiment as he leaned back to view his daughter. Hosea refrained from fussing too much, drifting thin fingers along her cotton pyjamas. “Thanks... Guess she takes after her mama, she was a beautiful woman,” he spoke softly, “She’ll be breakin’ hearts before I know it.” The thought was far-off, he was concerned primarily with how Eugenia would grow up. Lifting his head to focus on Bo’s face properly, he snorted when he mentioned his age. Hell, all of his siblings except the very younger was older than him. “Well, you look really youthful. Don’t go to a casino unless you wanna be stopped fuckin’ constantly for an ID,” he simpered, sitting back in his chair and eyeing the trashcan a few feet away. The male was debating trying to chuck his cup into the trash. “Listen, I’m kind of a fuckin’ idiot, but I’ve been around the fuckin’ block. Switch to Starbucks or, y’know, do some extracurricular activity.”

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