Take All That I Am .:9:.

Mr. Brian Haner Senior sat at his study in his home, working away on his latest project, calculating several numbers, his hair having greyed throughout the years, wrinkles folding his once firm skin.
The door burst open, making Mr. Haner jump and look to see who had entered his home.
His son paced forward, anger on his face. "Good. Good, Dad." He wore his fedora to hide his ears, his tail tucked inside his jeans.
"What, son? What's wrong?" he said, frowning as he took off his glasses and set them on his desk.
Rubbing his firm jaw, Brian bit his lip. "Why didn't you ever take me back to Huntington? I know I stopped asking and bugging you, but you still broke your promise. Why? Was it because I really am a freak? Because you're just like Mom?" His eyes were slitted and yellow, his rage seeming to get te best of him.
Mr. Haner flinched at those words. "Brian, you stopped asking, and that was something that made me assume that you didn't want to go back after all. What brings this up?" he asked, feeling his heart ache.
Brian ran his hands through his hair, collapsing onto the couch with his head in his hands. His fedora fell off his head, showing his perked, tiger ears. In a shaky whisper, he said, "He found me."
"He?" Mr. Haner's eyes widened. "Who's he?" He stood in alarm.
"Matt. The boy who I was friends with. The one who took off my hat."
Mr. Haner stared in disbelief. "What was said?"
Shrugging, Brian sighed, "He remembers me. He knew who I was when he saw me."
"So...nothing threatening? He just...said who he was?" Mr. Haner frowned in confusion.
Brian nodded, meeting his dad's gaze.
Mr. Haner could see in Brian's eyes that there was more to the story.
Watching his son in suspicion, Mr. Haner raised a brow. "Where'd he find you at?"
"My job," he swallowed hard, trembling a little.
"Job?" Mr. Haner frowned. "I had no idea you had a job...well, I mean, I guess I could've assumed that 'cause you've been supporting yourself but...what job?"
"Dad," Brian wet his lips. "I'm not normal...I can't have a normal job..." He seemed to be dancing around his answer.
"Brian..." He sighed shaking his head. "We've been over this. I'm just curious, what's your job? There's a lot of 'weird' jobs."
"I'm a stripper, Dad...And a prostitute." He answered, not meeting his dad's eyes.
The room remain deathly still, along with his father whose face had drained white.
"I can play off my ears and tail as a costume, people believe it." Brian shrugged. "They don't freak out. It's the only thing where I'm accepted."
"Brian...There are other options..." Mr. Haner warned slowly.
"Like what?" Brian became defensive. "A circus act?"
"Brian." Mr. Haner snapped. "Would you stop degrading yourself? You have so much potential, I don't want to see you...hurt by what you're doing. You could get seriously sick from this! Not so much the stripping but..." he hesitated. "Prostitution? You could get arrested for that. STDs. You could get seriously injured one way or another."
"I knew you wouldn't understand." He stood to leave. "People like you don't understand." Brian jabbed a finger into his own chest. "I don't have many job options here. This is the only job open to me. Maybe you should grow a tiger tail and ears. Then, you can tell me what jobs aren't good for me." He ripped the door open and slammed it shut behind him.
Bundling up in his thick jacket, he left the house, pulling the hood up over his head to keep his ears hidden. Grumbling, Brian kicked a crushed aluminum can down the sidewalk, hot tears welling up in his eyes.
It wasn't the fact that his dad had snapped at him that made him a blubbering mess, it was the intense look of disappointment in his dad's eyes that had gotten the best of him.
As he gazed down at the sidewalk, he didn't pay attention as he ran into a broad chest of a tall man who stepped back quickly.
"Oh, excuse me," the man said, clearing his throat in embarrasment.
Looking up to excuse the man, Brian stared. "What're you doing here?" He knew he looked like shit, his face puffy from crying and from the blistering cold.
Matt frowned. "I...was just taking a walk..." he said slowly. "Are you alright?" he asked, gazing at Brian's face.
"I'm fine." Brian took a step around Matt to try and walk away.
"No you're not...C'mon..." Matt gently took his wrist. "Let's go for a walk together. You don't have to talk about anything."
Brian sighed softly, letting Matt walk with him.
Keeping his trembling hands in his furry jacket, Brian made sure not to look at the man beside him. He didn't know what to say.
"Is this about your job?" Matt asked cautiously., remembering hearing Brian crying just before he entered the dressing room.
"I feel so trapped." He whispered, his voice raw with tears.
Matt walked closer, his body heat hugging Brian's seemingly frail shoulders. "Maybe I can help..." He whispered quietly.
Brian shook his head. "No one can help me, Matt. No one. All because my great great great-fucking-great grandpa had to fuck up his life."
Matt fell quiet, hesitating before saying, "You should try to make the best of your situation, Brian."
"I am." He hissed, wiping his face from tears. "It's not my fault."
"It isn't...but maybe you could look for other options if you're so miserable with your job...I know it's easier said than done, but that's why I'm here to help."
Brian shook his head slowly. "There's no other jobs here for me, Matt. None. I've looked. I've looked for jobs where I could possibly be accepted." He rolled his shoulders.
Matt sighed in defeat, submerged into silence as he gave a slight shiver from a chilling breeze. "I'm sorry..."
"It's not your fault." He wet his chapped lips, only making them sting a little worse. "My grandfather passed this curse down onto me."
They finally apporached a bench, Matt taking a seat, motioning for Brian to join him. "If you don't mind me asking, what curse are you talking about?"
Brian took a seat, stretching out his legs. "He was a rich, pompous asshole...Only cared about himself. He found himself a good girl, Marian, she was rich, but she wasn't like him." He crossed his arms, watching his shoe laces twitch in the wind. "When she realized his was cheating on her with another broad. Well...Marian had a background with witchcraft. She cursed him and all his grandsons..." He paused. "She gave him the gift to heal to go along with his curse because "even ugly beasts have some good in them."" He quoted her before sighing, "The curse will be broken when a "Tiger Child" finds his mate...Finds someone to love him for all he is...So far, the curse hasn't been broken." Brian rolled his eyes. "And it never will." He stood abruptly. "Unless I end it." Then, he began to walk off as if he had just came to a conclusion.
"What do you mean?" Matt asked with wide eyes, feeling slight whiplash from the change of Brian's pace. his voice rose some over the wind, "End it how?"
Brian continued walking, leaving Matt behind on the bench, his head dipped down to sheild from the wind.
"Wait! Brian, please!" Matt called, not yet chasing after him.
A patch of freezing fog had settled upon the road up ahead where Brian was walking.
It wasn't long before the fog swallowed Brian whole.