Chapter 4 ✔️

1 day before...

Betty Blake sits on the beige armchair with her back straight and her eyes focused on the task at hand. She was more than prepared for the questions that would be thrown at her today, for the backlash that her son's coming out had caused. It's not his fault. Not at all. Because there's nothing wrong with him. In fact she knew he was special from the moment she laid eyes on him. Granted, she was bone tired and half asleep from exhaustion, but she knew.

So she was more than happy to go to war when Ryan Pierce asked her, "And how do you feel about your son's bisexuality? Are you disappointed that you could've spared the drama if he was straight."

Betty Blake is a fierce woman. No one crossed her and made it to the other side without some emotional damage. And the tell tale signs of her displeasure always rested in her eyes. They'd go a harsh black and narrow ever so slightly, causing a sharp crease in between her brows. Just like there is now.

"I love my son. He's the only thing that I'm proud of in my life besides my fans and accomplishments. I didn't turn my back on him when he smoked at 16 or drank at 19. Not when he dated that god awful singer who had no manners. So, how dare you think for a second, that I'd turn my back on him after this, when he's done nothing wrong. I'm not disappointed in him for 'not being straight' I'm disappointed that he grew up in a society where being gay is a bigger scandal than being an abuser."

They called Jefferson's mother 'Firetongue' because she didn't hesitate to chew out someone who'd offended her. Jeff prides himself on being her son because it means he just might be that awesome one day.

"Nice work." He tells her as she collapses onto a similar couch that her son had a month prior. They don't often get this time together, so sometimes it can border on the awkward side. Jefferson hadn't seen his mother in 3 weeks, since she'd given him that rousing speech about his happiness... and all that jazz.

"Thanks sweetheart." She smiles and ruffles his hair as he comes to sit next to her. He slouches and rests his head of curly hair onto his mother's shoulder. She takes his hand and draws small stars on the palm. Jefferson buries his face into her sequined top and giggles,

"Mom, that tickles!" He squirms uncontrollably, then sighs, looking down at his hand, "Why stars?"

"Hmm?" She says, rubbing her son's scalp absentmindedly with her fingertips.

"Stars. Ever since I was little, you always traced stars on my hand. Why?" He asks her, looking up at her like a child. Seeing him like that made Betty's heart sink. She was reminded of the childhood that she could never give him. She was always too busy flying around, going to premieres and award shows. She just wishes she was there more often when he'd been growing up. When he looks at her like that, she's shown exactly what she'd missed in his youth.

Betty smiles, a little melancholy, "Because you're my star. I always knew you would be. And every day you continue to prove me right."

Jeff just exhales, content on her shoulder. "I love you, Ma."

She kisses his head and pulls away, "Alright, now you're getting mushy. You ready for that appearance on Thursday?"

"What appearance?" Jefferson questions her, getting up to get a drink.

"To that university."

Jeff pauses. Then remembers, some speech he's supposed to give about life in the business.

He nods in acknowledgement, "Oh yeah. Sure. It'll be good to be near kids my age again." He jokes.

"Is that supposed to be funny?" His mother asks incredulously, pushing his shoulder. They share a huff of laughter and Jeff scoots closer to Betty again and wraps his arms around her.

"I forgive you for not being around."

"...Thank you."