G

Sebastian learns first-hand the importance of having a grandfather both in his personal life and that of his fictional character's life

We all sat there, making jokes and just interacting with one another.

There wasn't much I could speak about since I spent most my life in an orphanage, so as time went by I just listened to them, then spent time watching television.
Antoinette and I then fell asleep in front of the tv. We must've because I found myself in my bed the following day.

'Son, it's time to get up, we're gonna visit your grandfather', Ignatius said.



'Who's that?' I asked.



'William's father, you won't know the Colonel but you'll meet him very soon', Ignatius said.




'Where's William?' I asked.




'Oh he's busy helping Antoinette's father packing the bags in the car boot', Ignatius said.



I said nothing, just had some vague thoughts running through my head and I opened the bathroom door and got into the shower and once again just went into that dimension where I just imagined how my parents looked; I don't know, thinking of them just kept my mind occupied. I suppose I'm the curious boy who always wanted to have a father and mother.


Ever since I was a little boy living in an orphanage and being practically born there, I had always wondered what it was like to have a grandfather.

I was at times envious of all of the other orphans who was fortunate to be adopted and would eventually go on to have a prominent father and grandfather figure in their lives: speaking of a grandfather, it seemed that I now had a grandfather that
would probably go to my future hockey or football games, tell me stories of his childhood, and offer me advice when my
world at times would seem to crash down.


I always used to ask myself, where was my parents? Who were they? I never knew a mother’s love and perhaps both a mother and father would probably had “disowned” me when
I was 14 or 15 since they abandoned me when I was but just a mere infant, and perhaps they'd “disowned” me for reasons that I would not seem to understand, and I would never know the sound of both my mother nor my father's voice, I would continue the legacy of a grandfather I would never know, nor would I hear his voice or that of his wife.


I would ask myself, why had he or she never come around?


Giving up the notion that they would magically show up at the doorstep of the orphanage, I assumed that I would live my life never knowing my real father nor even a grandfather.





That was until now, this year…

Although I was adopted by Ignatius and William. I felt privileged and happy that they had chosen me despite them being gay. I sort of looked at these occurrences in my life from a different perspective, because now I would not only know the love of a father, but I would know the love of two.


I wish there was a way to describe a mother and father's relationship with me, where they'd bestow their love upon me and whom I would describe as very close relationship, especially one between a mother and I.
We would probably exchange stories like best friends and fight like brother and sister, or perhaps just appreciate the time that was given for us on this earth as a mother and son. If I had a sister, she would probably complain to our mother about boys and flaky friends, and she'd vent to our father about work and typical day-to-day problems. She'd probably admit to the fact that I'd be her favourite child, and that my sister would be a father's little princess. If only this was real, how unfortunate that a life we'd love exist only within our imagination and might never go beyond our thoughts and desires.



And for a moment there my thoughts had taken me to a world where everything I imagined became real but only in my mind. I found myself sitting at the back of the car on our way to William's father.
So when we got there, right before I'd meet him, William and Ignatius sat down with me that
day with a handwritten letter in William's hand, I knew today's news would be a little different. Ever since I became their son I've met a lot of people I wouldn't normally meet.

"What is that you're holding?" I asked.


William sighed, and said: “It’s a letter from my father…do you want to read it?”



I was shocked. Father who? I barely heard him utter the word since I've been their son, but what I predict was, that his father might've just wrote him off by the time he came out that he's gay and the letter was probably his way of making peace with the idea that he had a gay son .


Of course, I knew the void in his heart that he had from losing touch with his father. I imagined the pain he must have felt to know that he'd never see his son again but something drove him to consider of letting bygones be bygones and just move forward, or was it pure love?
And now he'd have a chance to know me, his adopted grandchild and perhaps given the fact the treaty will last he might see me grow up, however I never got to hug or be held by a grandfather, I never had one. But this was a very big moment for William, since he and his father hadn't spoken for years now, and given the fact that Ignatius had been very close to his father, although his manlihood was judged from time to time; well...probably.

William wanted me to know his father and also convince him that being gay doesn't make you less of a man.

But perhaps their bond to a father as children was not to get to experience that such a relationship was no easy feat. Because not so much love was shown to them as children. However I couldn’t even fathom not having a father, as I was blessed to having two of my own - two amazing men who showcased love and they were good at that.

I held the letter in my hands, and a million
emotions surfaced as I looked into William's eyes and I could see the relief he had shown by crying. How would his father react seeing me?

Ignatius was also crying. Eager to know some answers, I began to read. The letter was sent from the hospital where he now was a patient. He talked about his life and how he always thought of William,
how he wished he had never said those words to him and that he hadn't hated him for being gay. Being the huge softie that he was, Ignatius cried throughout the entire letter. I read loud enough.

When I read the line “I never stopped
loving you,” Ignatius completely lost it. He seemed so vulnerable, not like the stories of the military man type of grandfather who went to war and received a myriad of medals.

At that moment my heart ached for my own father whom I'd probably never know,
And for her; a mother who gave birth to me and figured along the way that she was never ready to have me, and how I'd long to be part of a family. I wanted to understand why he would ever lose touch with his son in the first place. How could he bear such a loss in life? Did he regret it? Would he forgive himself? Was this letter enough to forgive him?




The three of us sat there, while Antoinette and her parents waited outside. My new grandfather was in the next room, I so anxiously wanted to meet him, but I think William was kind of scared. But eventually Ignatius and I persuaded him to go inside and when we did, I saw him lying there on the hospital bed with a nurse feeding him soup, and the moment he saw me he requested that William have him under his care at our home so that he might spend the weekend with us.

Unfortunately he was not yet fit to be moved.


However Ignatius handed William a photo album and he and his father bonded over old pictures and stories about their separate, but seemingly connected lives. He talked sports status with William and Ignatius but Ignatius did not seem like the type that was intrigued by such conversations; William's father was so delighted to have us in his presence and urged us to visit him when he gets out of hospital.

He was so happy to call me his grandson and so I got to hug my new grandfather for the first
time. Sure,William could have been closed off
and not allowed him to meet us as his family for the pain that he inevitably had put on him (and Ignatius).

They could have continued on with our lives with no changes. But the life they all lead now after this experience was far richer than their lives before. The greatest lesson that anyone can take away from this is that it is never too late to do what you wish to do in life.


My new grandfather woke up one morning and
wished to right his wrongs, and he did. He wanted to change his life, and he changed it. Had he waited, it may never have happened. Because of his decision, he doesn’t have to live with the fact that he never reconciled with his son, William can have his father in his life, and I have a grandfather to call my own. If you truly regret
something in life, and have the will to change it, do it. Life is too short to spend saying, “What if?”
And for that reason I am proud of both William and his father Albert.


William, Ignatius and I got into the car, on our way home and Antoinette along with her parents following behind us. And on our way, William surprisingly said,' me and my whole family visited my grandparents in Vietnam. My sisters and I were so excited to meet our grandfather for the first time."



'How do you feel Sebastian?' Ignatius asked.



'I feel good, I never had a grandfather but it really clarifies the word 'Family' and the meaning thereof', I replied.



"We had heard a lot about him from my father.
When we finally got there, all of our relatives were waiting to welcome us at the airport. We got to my grandfather’s house, and he was sitting there waiting for us to arrive', William said crying...(He never cries)


'You really loved both your father and grandfather right?' I said.


'Yes I did; He had the kindest face that you’ve ever seen. I felt close to him the minute I laid eyes on him. He treated my sisters like queens and me as a prince', William said.



'William's grandfather was the best thing that ever happened to them Sebastian said', Ignatius said.


.
'When the time came for us to head back to
America, everyone was in tears. We were so glad we got to spend time with our grandfather', William said.


'Did you stay in contact with him?' I asked curious...


'Yes, About a year later, around 3 a.m. one night, my family received an urgent call from Vietnam. My grandfather had fallen, hit his head and was unconscious. My whole family was devastated', William said.



'So what happened?' I asked curious...



"My dad immediately bought a ticket to Vietnam, but by the time he got there, it was too late. He had died. My grandfather wanted to see all of us before he passed on, but he couldn’t', William said.



'I get sad everytime I hear this story', Ignatius said.




'You know, Once I heard that he passed away, my heart felt emptiness. I didn’t know what to do. I felt lost. I went to my room and closed the door. I sat on the floor and started to cry. As I was crying, out of nowhere a moth flew into the room and landed next to me', William said.



'A moth?' I asked surprisingly...



'Usually I would kill the darn insect, but I didn’t this time. It gave me the same feeling as when I met my grandfather. Then I knew it was him', William said.



'So the moth was the spirit of your grandfather. You must've felt sad, losing him that way', I said.



'Yeah, but also warm like the first day I met him. From then on, every bug that I see, I let it go
free', William said.


We had left the hospital about two hours ago and Antoinette along with her parents were behind us, it was already dark. But the conversation William, Ignatius and I had made it seem like a few minutes.


Something felt strange.


We couldn’t figure it out �" not in twenty seconds
anyway. Something had flashed above the road
toward our car and disappeared like a low-flying UFO nobody else saw.

On the Highway in the foothills above an abandoned warehouse on a hot September night, a dark sedan had parked on the shoulder, other side of the road, headlights off. A man and woman were standing on the highway side of the car, an underestimated danger.


Years before, two female hitch-hikers had been killed by a drunk driver on that very stretch.


I was looking behind us to see if I could spot Antoinette and her parents but there was strangely an enormous truck in front of their car so it was hard to make out if they were still behind us or not.

Something wasn't right.


Seconds before it happened, the enormous truck headed straight for us and when it moved I noticed that Antoinette's family car was gone. As if it was wiped off the face of the earth. Whatever the flying thing was, it had seemed to had vanish, and the two mysterious people held some object and had it aimed directly for our car.

Then they threw it, and we heard a loud bump.



“What was that?” William asked.


We were in silent agreement that whatever it was, we’d never seen anything quite like it, or them...whoever they were.

“Yeah, that was weird.” I looked back through the rear window at the too-dark road.

The atmosphere inside our Chevy Monte Carlo was now frosted with an otherworldly chill that posed the question of whether to get involved.


“Should we . . . turn around?” Ignatius asked slowly, as if hoping some logical Oh, that’s what it was would come to mind and make sense of the puzzle for us.

After ducking behind William's chair I said, “I think we should go back.”




The mind works fast but not always efficiently when faced with an unknown, especially when turbulence is in the air. Adrenaline can either save you or lead to your undoing. We cautiously headed back, drove up slowly and parked behind the sedan with our high beams on. The man and woman were now inside the vehicle.


Antoinette and her parents were nowhere in sight.


William, squinting hard, told me to stay behind
him. We got out of our car and approached their driver side door. With the authority of a highway patrol man he announced, “Evening folks, I’m police officer, off duty of course and just wanted to make sure everything’s alright.”


Our suspicions were answered with a shriek when a young woman bolted out of the passenger door holding something in a light blue blanket and screamed, “He tried to kill my baby! He threw my baby at a car and it landed in the road!”

My spine was now in full-blown tingle as my mind raced from solve-the-mystery to life-or-death.

The young mom didn’t realize that it was our car the baby had been thrown at, and that we’d turned around.
And we didn't know that the loud bump we heard was a baby we drove over.

I could see the expression on William's face just went from a mourning state to a state of guilt.




She frantically scrambled to where she could use me as a shield against her perpetrator. Clutching the back of William's shirt, scattering gravel, she pulled him backward with her toward our passenger door.
William signalled Ignatius and I to get her into the car.

The smartest thing William did that night was resist the urge to back away. Thinking fast, he leaned into the car until he was nearly nose-to-nose with the accused, and
could smell the alcohol.
As a police officer, William knew that bullies are cowards at heart, and as a part time motivational speaker that ran with his team every day, he still
had the confidence to physically engage if necessary although he was off duty and didn't carry his gun with him.


“Now Mister, we’ll be taking the little lady and the baby to the hospital. I reckon it’s better if you leave us be and head on home.”


Even though William was gay, he wasn't the modern gay individual that media describes over television, he wasn't weak nor was he too feminine, he never talked quite like that. In
the face of a violent situation that could have gotten worse fast, he decided to talk like a farmer in the hope that this guy, a dead ringer for Charles Manson, might come from farm folks.


William told me later he was reasonably certain this type of guy would have a gun somewhere, and was only hoping it wasn’t under his
driver’s seat. William had always kept a sawed-off baseball bat under his driver’s seat just in case he ever needed it, but the one time he might really need it, he’d chosen words instead.

He backed away and headed for his steering wheel.

Now that the five of us were inside our car William started off slowly after a U-turn, gradually and deliberately speeding up. When I looked back I saw Manson’s car send dust flying as it also launched a U-turn.


“He’s following us William.”


“We’re going to be fine, son, don’t worry �"
there’s no way in the world he’s going to catch up.”



Now, we were travelling along at a soothing 85. It
would be about fifteen minutes before we got back to the reassuring obstacles of town traffic.

Of course,William would have preferred to leave the troubled man in the dust but he held steady, testing his ability to gain on us.

Just then, I looked back and saw Manson’s car swerve, skid and roll over in a spiral before tumbling to a woeful rest upside down.

Back at the scene of the mysterious flying object,
when we’d first seen young mom leap from harm’s way toward us, I’d thought she was older than Ignatius, but now on closer inspection I realized she might be younger. She cuddled her baby and shook convulsively, trying to catch her breath.
Her plain beauty took me by surprise; I hadn’t noticed it when she was screaming her desperate survival plea.
If she had gone to high school, I would’ve wanted to talk to her, and I couldn’t help but compare my situation with hers. Where were her parents and what was her upbringing like? How could someone my age end up in such a terrible situation? Had her father taught her how to stand up for herself? I hoped that she would
never forgive her boyfriend or husband, or whoever he was that had tried to kill her baby.

When I said, “He just crashed and it looks bad,” young mom sighed a sigh that made me ponder every woman ever who has suffered under a coward.


Then she uttered her only words of our ride:

“Please don’t tell my father what happened; he has a bad heart and if he finds out, it might kill him.”


At the hospital, everything slowed down. She called home on a pay phone after William gave her a few dimes.

At the same time, he called the police to inform them of Manson’s accident.
Soon enough, she was introducing us to her father as “the kind gentleman and his son who gave me a ride.”

And he surely did look like he was just a horseshoe nail away from heart failure. In his cowboy boots and hat, smelling of nicotine and hay, her father kept repeating,

“I’ll kill the son-of-a-b***h.”

Finally, after a long wait, we found out that by some miracle the baby had nary a scratch or bruise.


I surmised the possibility that in mid-air, having been cruelly sent flying onto the highway, the baby had also spiralled as the blanket enfolded him before cushioning his impact.

Outside the emergency room doors, a siren wound down and hospital commotion ensued.

Emergency care workers yelled as they barged in with a gurney. I noticed Manson before she did. He was on the gurney, strapped down with bloody head bandages and a neck brace on, helpless as a newborn yet not nearly as alive.
He was looking straight up, to heaven I suppose,
maybe offering a plea for forgiveness, wondering what life would be like paralysed, or thinking of all the I’m- sorry-baby-it’ll-never-happen-again-I-swear-noone-will-ever-love-you-like-I-do she was going to a shop when he saw his sweet darling again.

When she laid eyes on his hapless form, a crimson wind whipped across her face. After a scornful stare that morphed to a daydream of sadness and then to the positive resolve of new found freedom, she gave a kick to the back right wheel of the gurney, the one directly under the accident victim’s karma-targeted head.

Predator and prey had traded places.

She stood statue-still staring down at him, saying nothing and everything.

With healthy baby safe in her arms, she exited the
emergency room doors walking tall as triumph
alongside her bow-legged pop under the yellow parking lot lights. I wondered what would happen to her.

Had tonight altered her tomorrows and her baby’s forever, in a good way?


Would she be a struggling single mom
now, and would she ever be able to go to college and escape farm town America, like I was determined to do?


As her dad opened the passenger door of his old
banged up pickup truck, she took a moment to lean down and kiss her tiny miracle on the lips. Then young mom looked back at the emergency entrance, took a breath, and shook her head before getting into the truck and driving off toward the unknowable future.
But my views on William completely changed and I had even more respect for him as I already had grown fond of him and he had already gained both my trust and respect.



William, Ignatius and I got home and to our surprise we saw Antoinette's parent's car already parked.


'Where were you? We were worried sick about you?' William asked upset...



'Sorry man, it's kind of hard to explain, we took another route because I feared for the sake of my family', Antoinette's father said.



'I get what you're saying but didn't you think that I was trying to protect my family too?' William asked upset...



Antoinette's father said nothing further and William went to open the front door, the alarm went off, he punched in the password and put the lights on.
So Antoinette, Ignatius and her mother went inside while her father along with William and I carried the bags into the guest room.

I was so overwhelmed by the fear of dying that I didn't choose to spend time around my family. So after I helped Antoinette's father and William with the bags, I went upstairs, straight to my room and locked the door. I felt like crying but then it struck me that I had a solution of calming and rehabilitating myself of such tragic events, I looked at it from the perspective of an innovator, whereby I use these events to my advantage whereas each occurrence that appears in my life will be as each chapter that's added in the novel I was writing.
I took the hard-cover book out of the cupboard, grabbed a pen and I started writing.

At first I couldn't continue because I didn't feel what I wrote, so I tore the pages out of my book and out of frustration I just threw in the towel and just rested my head. I suppose many authors had suffered from such moments.


Sebastian Ross had knocked out two officers and already had the judge as his hostage.

Then Paperface just stood there. Sebastian ordered him to pick up there guns, since he already had a gun pointed at the judge's head, Paperface pointed one at the myriad of police officers who swormed into the courtroom all pointing guns at them; it was strange how Paperface quickly defended Sebastian, but nonetheless he saw Sebastian as some sort of grandfather to him.

The policemen yelled at them, ordering them to drop their firearms but they were persistent.

Sebastian didn't seem to be taking them seriously at all.


Then detective Greene arrived to speak to Sebastian and Paperface.


'Sebastian Ross, you don't need to do this, just give me the gun and I'll help you', Detective Greene said.


'Uh-hmm and you think I should believe that, now we both know that these muds behind you are going to beat us up', Sebastian said.



'I assure you that such an act will not occur on my watch', Detective Greene said.



'Oh really...and I should believe what a police officer has to say; we both know what you are...and the funny part about this is- you're like me and they don't even know it', Sebastian said.




'Sebastian Ross, lay down your weapon or else', Detective Greene said.



'Huh-uh-uh...didn't your mother ever teach you any manners? You know the magic word', Sebastian said mocking detective Greene.


'Sebastian... can you please drop down your weapon?' Detective Greene asked.


'There we go! Now you get it boy; certainly...I'd be happy to oblige', Sebastian said.


Suddenly with just mentioning a simple 'please' Sebastian Ross just dropped the gun and ordered Paperface to do the same. But he refused. Then in no time Sebastian was beaten up then cuffed, with very angry police officers reading him his rights; Sebastian just smiled and Paperface just looked at Sebastian not knowing if he had a hidden agenda or not. But Paperface wouldn't let go of his guns. He still had his gun pointed at Detective Greene.


In a split second Detective Greene attacked Paperface and from afar Sebastian Ross was laughing as he was taken away from the scene by angry policemen.


Detective Greene grabbed Paperface's hand that
was holding the firearm, and there was a struggle.
While Greene attempted to re-holster his service
weapon, Paperface's hand was either on top of Greene's gun or his hand. Suddenly...a round from Greene's gun was discharged in
the struggle, it was then unclear if his hand or Paperface's hand fired the round, which did not hit anyone.

Paperface was found to have the semi-automatic pistol with a black grip loaded with six bullets in the magazine and one in the chamber,and another gun hidden behind his back, both belonging to the two officers who laid there unconscious.

Detective Greene repeatedly bashed Paperface's head with the back of his gun and afterwards when he thought he did enough damage, he read him his rights whilst he was cuffing him.


After a while when both men were arrested, they had them taken to a room where Judge Holloway and Detective Greene would confront them, to come to a conclusion to what had happened.


"You displayed a handgun to police," Judge Holloway said.


Sebastian just laughed. He didn't seem threatened nor bothered with what she had to say, he just seemed relieved.

'So what about it? I should get an award shouldn't I?' Sebastian said.


Officers John Heaton and David Shaw are "highly disciplined officers." If it were not for their discipline, Holloway said.



'I'm flattered', sebastian said mocking Judge Holloway.


"You wouldn't have been here. You would be
dead." Judge Holloway said angry...



Both Paperface and sebastian Ross were handcuffed and covered in their own blood.

Holloway sentenced Cruz to two to three years in state prison,
Judges could only make that recommendation; there was no guarantee it would happen. given Paperface's young age of being 20 and minor record, state prison would be "a daunting place for him."


Paperface was then taken away from Sebastian Ross by officers, John Heaton and David Shaw.

And while Paperface was taken away, Detective Greene and Judge Holloway was in the presence of Sebastian Ross, questioning him about him about his actions.


'Well, hello again Judge Holloway', Said Sebastian Ross.

Judge Holloway: 'What's your motive on attacking me in the court?"


Sebastian Ross: I was curious."

Judge Holloway: I don't get it, you're a multi millionaire, you've got all the money in the world. You were practically born with a silver spoon."


Sebastian Ross: me?you have me confused with someone else{shows his hang cuffs to
Judge Holloway},see I wasn't born with a silver spoon, Hmmm you people...trying to play good cop bad cop with me; see I don't seek your sympathy but my mother gave birth to me in a prison cell, so I was practically the prodigal son returning home but tell me...does it depress you Judge Holloway to know how I spared you willingly?does it make you feel as a victim to this current predicament?


Judge Holloway: Who's the boy? We have no records of him.



Sebastian Ross: What's the time?"


Judge Holloway: What difference does that make? I asked you a question!"


Sebastian Ross: Well,you don't answer mine, I can't answer yours."



Judge Holloway: If were going to play games,then I can't help you with what's coming."



Sebastian Ross: ooh,the good cop-bad cop routine, I'm all excited now."



Judge Holloway: not exactly {door closes as she leaves, Detective Greene smashed Sebastian's face into table}



Sebastian Ross:now that's just rude, you're harassing the victim you know! I am a highly respected citizen and deserve to be treated with less aggression{Detective Greene hammer fists Sebastian's hand}


Sebastian Ross: See



Detective Greene: You asked for it ,here it is


Sebastian Ross: I wanted to see what you'd do, you gave Paperface a good but the boy won't break, however...the way you handled the situation, not bad, not bad at all


Detective Greene: Is that what you call hm? Who's that boy!


Sebastian Ross: And I looked, and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him. And power was given unto them over the fourth part of the earth, to kill with sword, and with hunger, and with death, and with the beasts of the earth.


Detective Greene: So you're going to bore me with bible verses now?


Sebastian Ross: {laugh}I don't want to bore you, I want to free you. You see...there's only room on this earth for people like you and me"



Detective Greene: And the kings of the earth, and the great men, and the rich men, and the chief captains, and the mighty men, and every bond-man, and every free man, hid themselves in the dens and in the rocks of the
mountains"



Sebastian Ross: You want to be one of them, but you're not,even if you'd
like to be, people are like lice, they irritate you so badly you can't help but scratch them out, but they're everywhere, then you realise...eventually they'll call you. All they seek is a little attention"



{Detective Greene grabs Sebastian Ross}
Detective Greene: Who's Paperface?



Sebastian Ross: You see this new technology was created by a bunch of bored screw ups! They seemingly had nothing better to do so they came up with internet; search google or something"



Detective Greene: I'll make your life a living hell!



Sebastian Ross: Oh,then I suppose that's the theory I'll have to test to see if you're speaking the truth



Detective Greene: You think you're untouchable don't you?



Sebastian Ross: You can be rich or poor, I'm going to kill you. Come what may; your life might not mean something to you, but it does to me, so yes...I think I might just be"




Detective Greene: That's it! I've had it!



Sebastian Ross: Reason why I hate killing women; they scream so loud, you lose interest in killing them, but still they make it so hard for us killers to ever let them live"



{Detective Greene flips Sebastian Ross onto table}
{Sebastian Ross laughs}

Sebastian Ross: That's it my boy, this is what you were born to do, killing is your nature"

{Detective Greene smashes Sebastian Ross face into the wall}


{Then he stopped}
Detective Greene: No! This is not who I am"



Sebastian Ross: Killing is not like poetry, it's easier done than said, if you do what you say and you say what you mean"




Detective Greene: You want me to kill you don't you? You'd like that!!



Sebastian Ross: You're in the middle of a war and my boy...I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news but you're simply on the wrong side"




{Detective Greene punches Sebastian Ross in the face}
{Sebastian Ross laughs}

Sebastian Ross: You know...people fear me, but they don't know why, all they know is they could die. But I'm harmless, it's them- you see they motivate me to act viciously to what they say then they beg...and I pity them. That eventually leaves me with a choice not to kill them(or something like that)


Detective just left the room and Judge Holloway stepped in, and Sebastian just laughed.


'Okay...he's my grandson. He might not have my looks but the boy's got potential...wouldn't you say?" Sebastian said.



(I found myself waking up only to discover that I've written what seemed to be another chapter to 400Rome. I discovered a new meaning to the word 'GRANDFATHER')