meet me there, mileven.

two.

the socializing part belonged to ted, and the rest of their priorities belonged to mike.

that was the way it had always been.

but this day would be different.

after changing into his only form of work attire, and brushing his teeth rapidly, he went on with his day.

as the boy strode throughout his room, the cheap wooden floor creaked with each and every little movement.

he then started tiptoeing, in order to keep his mother and sister sound asleep.

reaching the bottom of the cheap, carpeted staircase, he thought to himself, how was it fair that my family has to live in our own scum, whilst others get to come home to a bed of roses?

taking the last step, he let out a breath of relief as he heard his mother slightly snore through the thin walls.

making his way through the tremendously cramped living room, he grabbed a piece of stale bread from the kitchen, and made his way to the farmland.

the minty taste of toothpaste in his mouth was quickly washed down by the flavour of rye he stuffed in his mouth, hurriedly.

that was the only thing he'd be able to put in his mouth today. he couldn't afford taking food from the farm. it meant he would lose out on money. money he could nourish his family with.

he wouldn't dare miss out on that.

opening the cheap backyard door, he entered the farm.

as his bare feet touched the cold grass, he closed his eyes, huffed, and let himself take in the atmosphere.

it was time to get to work.

--

ted awakened three hours later, at eight, sometime after the first flush of morning.

the arrogant clients were about to start making their way in some minutes, so he took his place at the front of the farm.

hours after hours go by.

meals after meals get purchased.

nevertheless, without warning, ted jolted up from his spot, madly.

he clutched the skin above his heart and started rubbing the spot, seeming unsettled and uncomfortable.

a look of shock and horror then rested on his wrinkled face.

watching from afar, mike knew something was wrong.

his father was not youthful; although, this couldn't be the end of him, either.

ted moved slowly, but surely, towards mike in the back of the farm.

when he got to his boy, he laid his palm against mike's shoulder. the same petrified look never leaving his face.

"michael, take over for me, won't you? i'm- i'll, uh, just be needing... a cup of water. i'll be back," he breathed out heavily to his son.

mike only answered back with furrowed eyebrows.

"dad, is everything alright? maybe i can get you somethi-"

"no. stay here. keep working. i'll be fine, boy. just not feeling very we-"

but ted cut himself off. the hand that wasn't situated on mike's shoulder, immediately flew to his chest.

concern settled upon mike and terror upon ted.

"huh... ain't that a bite?" ted gulped, letting out a breathy laugh, though his face was far from humorous as his gaze went back to his son.

nothing about this was witty.

"i'll be back. stay here. don't move. keep this farm intact. help out with the customers," ted repeated, demandingly. gritting his teeth, specifically during his last sentence.

that's when the panic set in.

afterwards, ted reached for the backyard door handle.

"wait! i canno-"

however, it was useless. ted was inside, trying to regain his strength, and mike was now forced to put up with the rich.

numerous years spent avoiding them, all wasted.

his mind had already been freed of concern for his father, moreover being swept away by the thought of the haughty, pretentious loaded ones.

help out with the customers.
help out with the customers.
help out with the customers.

his dad's words were practically taunting him at this point.

but, thinking of his family, he knew he had to do it.

this was not the time to act selfish.

he was going to have to interact with those formal fuckers.

and so, with shame and embarrassment, he plodded his way towards the backyard's open fence. his head never leaving the ground.

still looking down, the moment he arrived at his newly discovered spot, a feminine voice reached his ears.

"who the fuck are you? where's mr. wheeler?"

correction, a vulgar feminine voice.

...

A/N: second chap heheh!! kind of imagining mike's house like charlie buckets from 'charlie and the chocolate factory'🤝🤝 n e ways.. hope u enjoyed this.. spice coming soon ;)