No, no, everything is not alright, Fraser. Wanna know why? Do you want to know why? Because they won't stop, Fraser. Okay? Because they won't stop, Fraser, and it's driving me crazy.
Notes, packages, at home, on my desk, in my car. Messages even on here. Langoustini, Joe Zuko, I see guys on the street and I think they're for me. I can't do it, Fraser.
FINALLY, a little passion! That's what i wanted, Raymond. No wonder your wife left you if it always takes you this long to pump youself up.
Alas, now you want to talk, is that it? When it suits you? You're lucky I'm a nice guy, must be that boy of yours is having a good effect on me after all.
You know, I always wanted an heir, someone to take over the reins, someone I could rely on. If you care to remember Ray, I gave you that chance. And you threw it back in my face.
So, I went to the next best thing. Well actually, I think it would be fairer to say it came to me. After all, it's a momentous occasion when a father hears his son call him 'Dad' for the first time, don't you agree?
But I've already said to much. You want to talk properly, you know where I am.
That's not very reassuring. Handling it how? If the situations has escalated to the point where you feel that you may be in danger, then it's not the sort of matter you should attempt to resolve on your own.
Now, why would I go and something like that when I'm having so much fun?
Besides, you messed with my life first. I'm only returning the favour.
There's only so many times I'm going to offer to talk, Detective.
...and really, don't you think you should be setting a better example for the youth of today? Otherwise who know's just how much a young boys mind could be corrupted when exposed to an unsuitable influence...
Thanks for the vote of confidence, Benny. Fact is, I don't even know what the situation is. I go in there, oh hey, Lieutenant, you know, I been gettin' these messages since February but it's okay, they're addressed to the dead guy, Armando Langoustini, so no need to worry. How the hell d'you think that's gonna look? Like I'm crazy, Fraser.
What's the matter, Vecchio? I thought a big, tough cop like yourself wouldn't be scared of anything? In fact, it's quite an honor to know there's no-one else in the world that can instill fear in you quite like i can...
Anyway, you might not be inclined to meet a 'nutjob' but how about your own flesh and blood?
Fear? You think this is fear? This is boredom, you moron. So let's finish it. You come meet me. My turf, my rules. Apparently, you already know where I am, so let's do this.
You're right, that was fun, getting your hopes up and then dashing them again.
You know, when I said 'it's finished', you should have quit while you were ahead. I just might have left you alone then Vecchio, if you'd let it lie.
If you had let me have the last worrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr[Character limit reached. Automatic message sent.]
My name is Joseph Zuko. I don't really know if any of my messages actually got through to you before but I had to try one last time.
I grew up in the suburbs of Chicago and it is only recently I've learned the truth as to who I really am. In a letter my mother wrote to me 18 years ago, she explained how she had fallen pregnant by a man her brother detested. She feared that if her brother ever found out the paternity of the baby, he would kill whoever had laid his hands on his sister. So to protect the man she loved, she gave her baby away. She couldn't bring herself to murder her own child before it had even been born and so instead, spent her pregnancy with a family friend on the West Coast. Frank never suspected a thing and after the birth, Irene returned to the house she shared with her brother, alone. She had given her baby to a couple not far away and had told them to raise him as their own. And so they did.
Until a few years later when Irene was caught in an exchange of gunfire and tragically killed. It was only then that the child learned of his past. That his real name was Joseph Zuko. And his mother was dead.
My foster parents gave me the letter to finsh reading by myself. She explained that my father was a man called Raymond Vecchio. A good man, a policeman and a man that would give his life for me if ever I needed him.
And so I came looking for you. One day, I was stood outside your District, waiting for you to appear. My mother had given me a photo of my father, the only link I had to you. And then suddenly, there you were. Metres in front of me, emerging from a blacked out limosine. I went straight up to you and blurted out everything, didn't even give you a chance to reply. Thought I'd blown it until you put your arm around me, smiled and opened the door to the limo. I guess I was stupid to believe it would be that easy. That my father would just smile and give me hug. But it was. The next couple of months I spent getting to know my father. Eating out, baseball games, fancy clothes, fast cars. I thought I had found the best father in the world...or at least, who I thought was my father.
To cut a long story short, I know whoever that man was, it wasn't you. He pretended he was, he got me on side. And then one day last week, he told me the truth in a fit of anger. That he wasn't Raymond Vecchio, a cop undercover in the Mafia. He was the Mafia. I was confused, I didn't understand. He started yelling. Told me I was a waste of space, just like my father. I was no use to him anymore. I still don't get it. Guess I don't need to now.
You know, it's funny. I always wanted to be a cop, even before I found out about you. Following in my fathers footsteps, that sounded so good to me. But after what I've done now, there's no chance of that ever happening.
The Langoustini guy, he won't be bothering you any more. I've made sure of that, Dad. I wanted to do just one thing for you, to make you proud. I know you're not the bad guy in all of this and I don't want you worrying that some new problem is going to pop up and start messing up your life again. And I don't want you to feel guilty about what's going to happen. I'm making the decision for you. Please don't blame yourself.
You get your normal life back now, no psycho stalker, no illegitimate son you wish didn't exist. I hope that you'll find happiness again because that's all I wanted for both of us, Dad. Throughout these last few messed up months, thats the only thing that kept me going.
And so did my mother, more than anything. I know she would want you to know that. She did what she did to protect you and now, I'm following in her footsteps.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
tenwordstories
no subject
no subject
no subject
...Ray?
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
Well well well...
No wonder your wife left you if it always takes you this long to pump youself up.
Alas, now you want to talk, is that it? When it suits you? You're lucky I'm a nice guy, must be that boy of yours is having a good effect on me after all.
You know, I always wanted an heir, someone to take over the reins, someone I could rely on. If you care to remember Ray, I gave you that chance. And you threw it back in my face.
So, I went to the next best thing. Well actually, I think it would be fairer to say it came to me. After all, it's a momentous occasion when a father hears his son call him 'Dad' for the first time, don't you agree?
But I've already said to much. You want to talk properly, you know where I am.
Re: Well well well...
no subject
no subject
Re: Well well well...
Besides, you messed with my life first. I'm only returning the favour.
There's only so many times I'm going to offer to talk, Detective.
...and really, don't you think you should be setting a better example for the youth of today? Otherwise who know's just how much a young boys mind could be corrupted when exposed to an unsuitable influence...
Re: Well well well...
no subject
Re: Well well well...
Anyway, you might not be inclined to meet a 'nutjob' but how about your own flesh and blood?
I'm willing to share...
Re: Well well well...
Re: Well well well...
'Why would I wanna meet a nutjob like you anywhere?
You're right, I'm bored of this.
Consider it finished.
Re: Well well well...
Re: Well well well...
You think I'd give you up so easily?!
You're right, that was fun, getting your hopes up and then dashing them again.
You know, when I said 'it's finished', you should have quit while you were ahead. I just might have left you alone then Vecchio, if you'd let it lie.
If you had let me have the last worrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr[Character limit reached. Automatic message sent.]
I'm so sorry.
My name is Joseph Zuko. I don't really know if any of my messages actually got through to you before but I had to try one last time.
I grew up in the suburbs of Chicago and it is only recently I've learned the truth as to who I really am. In a letter my mother wrote to me 18 years ago, she explained how she had fallen pregnant by a man her brother detested. She feared that if her brother ever found out the paternity of the baby, he would kill whoever had laid his hands on his sister. So to protect the man she loved, she gave her baby away. She couldn't bring herself to murder her own child before it had even been born and so instead, spent her pregnancy with a family friend on the West Coast. Frank never suspected a thing and after the birth, Irene returned to the house she shared with her brother, alone. She had given her baby to a couple not far away and had told them to raise him as their own. And so they did.
Until a few years later when Irene was caught in an exchange of gunfire and tragically killed. It was only then that the child learned of his past. That his real name was Joseph Zuko. And his mother was dead.
My foster parents gave me the letter to finsh reading by myself. She explained that my father was a man called Raymond Vecchio. A good man, a policeman and a man that would give his life for me if ever I needed him.
And so I came looking for you. One day, I was stood outside your District, waiting for you to appear. My mother had given me a photo of my father, the only link I had to you. And then suddenly, there you were. Metres in front of me, emerging from a blacked out limosine. I went straight up to you and blurted out everything, didn't even give you a chance to reply. Thought I'd blown it until you put your arm around me, smiled and opened the door to the limo. I guess I was stupid to believe it would be that easy. That my father would just smile and give me hug. But it was. The next couple of months I spent getting to know my father. Eating out, baseball games, fancy clothes, fast cars. I thought I had found the best father in the world...or at least, who I thought was my father.
To cut a long story short, I know whoever that man was, it wasn't you. He pretended he was, he got me on side. And then one day last week, he told me the truth in a fit of anger. That he wasn't Raymond Vecchio, a cop undercover in the Mafia. He was the Mafia. I was confused, I didn't understand. He started yelling. Told me I was a waste of space, just like my father. I was no use to him anymore. I still don't get it. Guess I don't need to now.
You know, it's funny. I always wanted to be a cop, even before I found out about you. Following in my fathers footsteps, that sounded so good to me. But after what I've done now, there's no chance of that ever happening.
The Langoustini guy, he won't be bothering you any more. I've made sure of that, Dad. I wanted to do just one thing for you, to make you proud. I know you're not the bad guy in all of this and I don't want you worrying that some new problem is going to pop up and start messing up your life again. And I don't want you to feel guilty about what's going to happen. I'm making the decision for you. Please don't blame yourself.
You get your normal life back now, no psycho stalker, no illegitimate son you wish didn't exist. I hope that you'll find happiness again because that's all I wanted for both of us, Dad. Throughout these last few messed up months, thats the only thing that kept me going.
And so did my mother, more than anything. I know she would want you to know that. She did what she did to protect you and now, I'm following in her footsteps.
I'll tell Mom you said hi, huh?
I love you.
Joe