A tall, middle-aged man opens the door. On top of his head sits a brown, patched top hat, and a cigar hangs from his mouth, unlit. He spreads his arms to embrace me, revealing a grease stain on his dress shirt. His hug is lung-crushing and lasts for over 5 seconds.
His shirt smells of expensive cologne, which is almost over powered by the scent of metal.
He shakes hands with Michael (for a significantly shorter time period than when he hugged me), and ushers us inside.
His house is nice, despite the fact that there are so many antique newspapers, bills that he should probably have payed, flyers, and a whole lot of scrap metal sculptures. On every surface sat some kind of statue, the most prominent a guitar made of gears and wiring.
"Sorry I haven't cleaned up." He smiles, picking up a stack of important-looking papers and tossing them into the recycling bin.
He points us toward a couch, which was 'broken in', to say the least. I sit neatly on a cleared spot, whilst Michael just falls onto the cushion beside me.
"So. What do ya wanna know?" Uncle Moons claps his hands together, sitting across from us on an old TV. He looks a bit too heavy to be sitting on an antique, but I don't mention it.
"How about how you knew who I was?" I lean forward, and he snaps open a beer. He hands one to Michael, then takes a swig of his own before answering.
"Well, girlie, me and yer adoption mother were in touch, ya see. She agreed to let me know occasionally how ya were doing. Sending pictures and such every now and again. So, when I saw ya, I knew who ya were." He gives me a half smile, and makes sure his hat is straight.
"Uhh...." I give Michael a look as he drinks his beer in silence.
"Are you my actual uncle?"
"Yep, by blood and everythin."
"Well." I shift awkwardly, and Michael pats my knee.
"So are you seriously the only one beside her in the family?" He speaks up for the first time, and gives me a small side smile.
Uncle Moons laughs.
"Closely related. Yer Grammie only had two kids, and your mum's...er.....not doin so well. You have a couple nieces and nephews though."
I stiffen. "I have siblings?" My brain is trying to process all of this new information. Siblings? Nieces and nephews?
"Yah! Yer momma had two kids before, but sent them with yer pops, then she got preggers again, and when he wouldn't take you, she put you up for adoption. Nobody really knows what happened to em, but the kids are still around. One is in Toronto, the other in San Diego, I think." My uncle shrugs, then stands up.
"We should go." Michael's hand brushes against mine, and we stand. Uncle Moons sees us to the door, and as soon as we are outside, he slams it. A nice guy, but really, really weird.
When we get back to the house, Calum hooks his arm around mine, and drags me to a limo, the others following.
"What's going on?" I look around, confused, and Ashton giggles.
"We're going out for drinks!" He grins, squeezing my knee gently.