When the door opened, Drake looked up from where he sat in front of the mirror, prepared to tell whoever it was to leave him the fuck alone. When he saw his son, he managed to smile. “What are you doing here?”
“Is that any way to greet your number one son?”
Drake stood up and gave him a hug. “I mean, it's great to see you, but I thought you were-”
“I cancelled a concert, caught some shit for it, but nothing that won't blow over. I figured you could use the moral support.”
“You figured right.” Drake walked back over to the chair in front of the mirror and sat down again.
“Are you auditioning for the role of Dorian Grey?”
Drake laughed sharply. “No. I'm brooding.”
“Um. I remember you doing that. I would think you would outgrow it.” He came over and perched on the edge of the vanity table.
“When did you get to be so cheeky?”

“I had you as a role model, remember?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry.”

Angelo studied him. “You look tired. Have you been sleeping?”

“Not a lot.”

“What was the fuss about with Uncle Johnny?”

“Tony told you, I suppose.”

“He mentioned something.”

“Don't fall in love.”

“That's easy advice to follow. Thanks, Dad.”

Drake looked at him. His son, so handsome, so grown up… God, had he equipped him for life, for heartache? If only he could wrap him in a cocoon that would keep him safe from hurt. “You're telling me.”

“How is Uncle Johnny?”

Drake sighed. “Dying.”

“He has a few years left…I mean, if…”

“Dying inside.” Drake lowered his head. “Everything he had is gone. You know what he said to me before I left?”

Angelo shook his head.

“He wants to die.”

“He doesn't mean that.”

“Yes, he does. He can't perform anymore, Angelo. He can't see. It's pathetic to see him. He won't let me help him. He won't let anyone help him.” He lowered his voice. “He won't let me touch him anymore.”

“He's not well, he-”

“He won't let me sleep beside him at night. I'd be happy to do that, just lie next to him, but...” Drake looked at his son, his eyes filling with tears. “He says I should take a lover.”
Angelo reached out and squeezed his dad's arm. “He'll come around. He's adjusting, that's all. It must have been hard for him to see you go and-”

“That's why I didn't want this,” Drake growled. He stood up and knocked the chair on its side. “I didn't want to perform without him. I knew how much it would hurt him.” Drake was breathing hard, pacing the floor. “I should be there with him now, not here. I begged Frank to…he wouldn't let me. The fucking money is all he cares about. After all I've done for him...” He stopped, looked at Angelo. “I'm sorry.”

“About what exactly?”

“Laying this all on you.”

Angelo shrugged. “I have broad shoulders.”

Drake smiled and walked over to embrace his son. “That you do,” he said, kissing his cheek. “That you do.