Walking To the Moon

II

There is nothing that a high school teenager likes more than a cool morning breeze entering the window his mother had just opened, now covering his naked skin.

"If you don't get up in the next five minutes you'll be late again!" Melissa's voice took on a higher tone as she spoke with anticipation.

Bryant groans as he turns face down pulling the blanket over himself.

"No, no, no, no no! You're getting up now!" She pulls away the blanket. "Get up now!"

"Fine!" Bryant yelled and got up from the bed only wearing underwear. "Get out I have to dress up!"

"It's not like I gave birth to you and so I have seen you naked then. Get dressed and come downstairs to eat something before you leave."

Melissa, a forty years old woman was a striking figure of elegance and poise. She had a head of radiant blonde hair that seemed to shimmer under the softest of lights that her son had inherited. Her height, taller than most, commanded attention in any room she entered, and it accentuated her air of confidence.

Bryant's mom had a penchant for always being impeccably dressed. Her wardrobe was a collection of stylish, fancy clothes that spoke to her refined taste. She often wore high heels, which added to her already statuesque presence, and her graceful stride was almost royal. To some she might have appeared intimidating, with her sharp features and a demeanor that exuded authority. But Bryant knew better. He understood that beneath her composed exterior was a heart of gold, overflowing with love and devotion for her son. Her occasional sternness was merely a testament to her unwavering determination to provide the best for Bryant and ensure his future was filled with opportunities.

As she was walking to the door she stopped and turned to look at her son one more time. "And make it quick!"

Bryant made his way toward the cozy bathroom. He reached for his toothbrush and toothpaste, his reflexion waiting for him in the mirror above the sink. As he squeezed a dollop of toothpaste onto the bristles, his gaze accidentally wandered to his own face. There, in the reflexion, he saw them. Two unwelcome pimples. New ones. They seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, angrily red and impossible to ignore. Bryant stared at his reflexion, a mixture of frustration and resignation coursing through him. It was as if his face had decided to betray him at the worst possible moment, just when he wanted to feel confident and put-together. Sighing, he begun brushing his teeth, his thoughts drifting to the complexities of high school life. Pimples, it seemed, were just one more challenge to navigate in the minefield of adolescence. As he rinsed his mouth, he couldn't help but hope that these unwelcome guests would pack their bags and leave as quickly as they had arrived, allowing him a moment of peace.

He picks some random clothes from the closet as none of them seemed to matter anymore now that he knows his face isn't looking good and goes downstairs. In the dining room the curtains were pulled allowing the morning sun rays to illuminate the room and land on the table. A dark silhouette sitting at the end of the table, hardly to see his face as the light was coming from right behind him. His broad shoulders were moving as he held out his hands to pick up the coffee cup. Victor Stafford, because he is the one we are talking about, is his father and the authority of the house. Even Melissa was just a bit afraid to stand up to Victor sometimes. 'Vick' as family calls him is a celebrity manager and the toughest of all. His clients all feared him as he showed no empathy for anyone. Bryant took the seat next to him as usually.

"Didn't you forget to say good morning?" Victor's thick voice made the teenager flinch.

"Good morning, dad!" he said as he was expected to from the beginning.

"Maybe if you weren't hanging out all night you you'd be able to wake up early to go to high school. It's you final year, you should be more enthusiastic about it." Vick spoke while looking at his iPad reading some emails.