Fame | Shawn Mendes

Chapter 69; Father & Moving on

I took deep breaths as I sat on the passenger seat in Ethan's car.

"Just remember, I'm going to be right here waiting for you. I won't go anywhere just take as long as you need and get the answers you want. This is your chance," Ethan said and without hesitation I quickly hugged him before getting out of the car.

I slammed the door shut and turned around only to find Ethan smiling and giving me a thumbs up. Why didn't my mother meet him seventeen years ago?

I walked to the entrance of the prison and went to the counter where a police man sat.

"Hey, uhm, I'm here for James Hall?" I said, accidentally letting it sound like a question. "What's your name?" he asked, scanning the papers that were in front of him. "Jamila Carver," I said, confidently.

"Wait? You're the girl my daughter is obsessed with! You're a singer right?" he asked his eyes suddenly lightening up as he recognized who I was.

"Uhm, yea. That's me."

"Do you mind signing something for her and maybe we could take a picture so my daughter would really believe me?"

"Sure, but please don't tell anyone I was here and who I was meeting. It's really personal and I don't want the world to find out," I said and he nodded, swearing to me that he wouldn't let out any information.

I quickly signed something for his daughter and another police man took a quick picture of us before went through a metal detector and all that stuff.

A police woman lead me to the visiting rooms and I sat down on one end of a small table. Two police men stood at the door and all I did was stare at my hands not looking up as someone entered the small room.

I heard the screeching of the second chair in the room, making me squeeze my eyes shut. I can't do this. I can't look at him.

I breathed unevenly and took all my confidence to look up.

"Who are you?" the guy asked, making me finally look into his stone cold eyes. He looked way different than I had pictured him. Not even one tattoo was on his body at least not one that I could see and even though his hair was a mess it was still not as messy as I thought.

"I'm Jamila," I said almost inaudible or him to hear but he did.

"Jamila? I don't know you, do I?" he asked and I shook my head, no as a respond.

"Then why are you here?" he asked almost giving me the vibe that he was annoyed to sit here with a seventeen year old girl that was too terrified to say anything.

"You hurt my mother," I said, trying not to cry as I couldn't seem to look away from his stone cold gaze. "Okay, I know what this is about. Do I still owe her money? Is that why she send you?"

"She didn't send me."

"Then why the fuck are you here?"

"You're my father," I came straight to the point, taking him completely off guard. His eyes widened and his cold stare was now fixed on his handcuffed hands that he had placed on the table.

"How old are you?" he asked, not letting his eyes meet mine.

"Seventeen."

He sighed burying his face in his hands. "What do you expect from me know? To be a father figure? To shower you with gifts and love like any father would? To get to know you and explain to you why I did what I did only for you to tell me that I've changed?"

"I-I don't know. I just-"

"You just what?"

"I just wanted to meet you. Meet the one person who ruined my mothers life but still gave her the one thing that made her able to pull through," I said, playing with my fingers.