A Different Kind Of Dysfunction - A Shameless Fanfiction (Book One)

The school gym still smelled like old sweat and floor wax, but they’d tried.

Folded chairs in neat rows, banners taped to the walls with curling edges, a cheap PA system hissing every few minutes like it needed to catch its breath.

It was the annual South Side Student Recognition Night — a laughable name for a collection of kids who barely got textbooks, but someone’s idea of hope.

Rory didn’t want to be there.

Adeline didn’t want to be there.

But Sophie had begged them both.

“If one of us is getting recognized for something other than trauma, we show up.”

So they came.

Sophie was being honored for “Outstanding Academic Persistence” — a title that meant nothing, but came with a certificate and a handshake from the principal.

She deserved it.

They all did, but Sophie especially.

She never asked for anything.

So they came.

They dressed like they gave a shit. Rory borrowed a button-down from Lip. Adeline dug out a blazer from the bottom of a donation box and ironed it three times.

They sat in the third row. Smiled politely. Clapped for every name.

The school staff beamed. Parents looked proud. Kids looked bored.

And for twenty-seven minutes, it almost felt normal.

Until Sylvia showed up.

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It started with the sound of heels on linoleum.

Too loud.

Too sharp.

The kind of walk that meant drama was about to kick in the door.

Adeline looked up — and her stomach dropped.

Sylvia stumbled through the side entrance of the gym like a wind-up toy losing power, one heel crooked, lipstick smeared, a half-empty bottle of something brown shoved into her purse.

She scanned the crowd, eyes bloodshot, hair tangled like she’d fought a raccoon and lost.

“Oh, fuck me,” Rory muttered.

Adeline didn’t move.

Couldn’t.

Sylvia spotted them and beelined straight across the gym, weaving slightly, bumping into a teacher who gasped and tried to steer her back.

She shrugged them off.

“I’m here!” she slurred loudly. “Don’t start without me!”

Conversations froze. Heads turned.

A beat of silence — then whispers spread like wildfire.

Adeline stood up, heart pounding. “Mom—”

Sylvia raised her arms like she was accepting an Oscar. “My baby’s getting a damn award!”

“Sit down,” Adeline hissed, grabbing her elbow.

Sylvia wrenched free. “Don’t touch me like I’m some drunk bitch—”

“You are some drunk bitch!” Rory snapped, standing now too.

Sylvia’s face twisted into something half-smile, half-snarl. “Oh, now you care what I am? Little Miss Perfect and her golden boy brother? Acting like I’m the problem? I made you!”