Days Are Numbered

1: Mr. Vikentiy Yaroslav

"STOP!" Noah's voice boomed as his wet locks fell on his face. At this point, he stood tall over his mother's small frame, who despite her efforts, appeared short.

"Look at you!" She yelled through sobs. "You were gone for days, and now you show up drunk and reeking of nicotine, and God knows what else. Please, Noah," her voice reduced to pleas.

"You know your father wouldn't be happy to see what you have become," she added, wiping away her tears along with her mascara.

"I don't give a damn! He's dead! He died because of you, and I hope his many mistresses come for his wealth, so you can both go to hell!" Noah yelled. A clap cut through the air and landed on his cheek, causing him to drop with a thud. He knocked his elbow against the coffee table, cursing and grimacing in pain. Seeing the result of her action, Cordelia's anger faded as she rushed to help him, only to be hissed at and shoved away.

"Get off me!" He snapped through gritted teeth.

The butler, who was standing by, rushed in to help the drunk teenager to his feet. Cordelia watched them leave and broke down into sobs, reaching for her bottle of red wine. "God, help me with my son. I've made a lot of mistakes, but I don't want him to pay for my mistakes. My husband is gone, and I don't want to lose my only child," she muttered through tears.

A sniper from the next building watched the scene through his scope, as he had been doing for quite some time.

************

Noah woke up to the screeching sound of a vehicle pulling into their driveway. He grunted and screamed into his pillows before sitting up, only to be met by the stares of his butler, Mark. Mark was old, in his fifties, yet he stood tall and strong, in a posture that Noah couldn't understand most of the time. How could one force his spine to get into that posture? How could anyone stand so straight?

"Your breakfast is ready," Mark said to the youngster, who shot him a glare.

"Ugh, can't you leave me alone! Christ!" He groaned.

"Of course, as you wish," Mark replied before turning around and heading for the door.

"Wait." Noah called out, "My head hurts. I can't do anything right now. Bring my breakfast and some meds for the hangover," he ordered with a flat tone. Mark bowed and left.

Noah reached for his phone, stumbling upon texts from his friends.

"The party was hot!" - Jay

"You left your stuffs here. I wish you stayed longer." - BabyGirl

"Man, you were wasted!" - Ned

"I'll be waiting for you at the restaurant. We have a live concert tonight, but before that, we must go shopping and shoplifting." - Antonio

He smiled at the texts, replying to BabyGirl, "Yeah, but my mum was a pain! She wouldn't stop calling. And she even hit me in the face. I'm gonna sue her one of these days. Love you, horny."

To the last text from Antonio, he responded, "Yeah, Mum would be so mad, but she must understand that my dad was rich, and I inherited his wealth. I don't need to go to school. By the way, I attended two classes this year. That's enough." He rolled his eyes as he set his phone aside.

"Today again," he smiled at himself, thinking of how he had sued restaurants, stolen, and blamed the shop for false accusations, and worse.

A knock snapped him out of his thoughts. Mark came through with his orders. He grabbed the spoon and fork after Mark had placed them beside him. He took a bite and grimaced before spitting the food out on Mark.