These aren't the stories your mother told you.

No.

These are the other stories.

The Kissing Game.

Written and narrated by Luke Condor.

My mum always said I was a special boy, that it was going to change the world, make a name for myself, my family.

I only truly discovered what she meant on the day I lost my virginity.

My dad never said anything. He mostly stayed in his room and watched reruns of the Tour de France, occasionally

shouting down for food or drink or some sort of massage.

You'll be fine, my mum said, as you try to pat down the sticky out bits of my hair.

Just go, relax.

Try to enjoy yourself. Just, you know, be yourself.

Be yourself. At the time, the words bounced around my mind but barely registered.

They were just nonsense words, little more than noises that sounded nice. Be yourself. The oven time had dinged, and my

mum turned to open it up, an eruption of steamy meat spices billowed into the kitchen. My gaze

followed the fluffy white scent to the ceiling, half expecting my dad to stir. He remained silent.

Don't worry about him, my mum said.

He's proud of you.

I'm not so sure, I said, as I held out my hand,

taking note of the visible shakiness.

Sometimes I feel like he doesn't even realize I'm here.

Mum tuttered,

...