Tag, You're It ⚣ Brallon

One

It's September 11th, 2016. The day before school starts. Dallon Weekes is staring at his computer screen at 2:00 am obsessing over a pastel aesthetic blog like any regular teenage boy.

His phone buzzes, in which he has just received a new text message.

Mel: damn dallon back at it again with the aesthetic blogs

He sighs and looks at the time, his eyes getting wide. He usually loses track of time and ends up staying up all night staring at men that are about an average of 12 years older than him.

Dal: shut up I lost track of time now let me sleep

He closes out of Tumblr and goes over to his history, clearing it all due to the massive amounts of yaoi and porn that he's searched throughout the day.

Dallon closes his laptop and slides it under his bed, laying his head down on the pillow beside him and tucking his legs under the blanket. He slowly closes his eyes and drifts off into a peaceful sleep, awaiting the next day to come.

-

Dallon's alarm clock goes off at 6:15 am, in which he slams the shit out of the snooze button because he got 4 hours of sleep last night.

Once the alarm goes off again, he finally stands up and wanders out of his room and downstairs to go grab an apple for breakfast.

"Hey, sweetie! Today's the big day!" His mother says from the kitchen where she is making pancakes for breakfast.

"Huh?" He says in a half-awake haze.

"The first day of your junior year! You've only got one more year until college." She smiles, looking back down at the pancakes and flipping them perfectly.

"Oh yeah, I guess." He sighs, running his hand through his hair. "I'm gonna shower and get dressed and stuff. I'll be down here by the time breakfast is done." He says while rubbing his eyes.

"Alright, sweetie. Cya in a bit." She says in an all too giddy tone.

Dallon stumbles back upstairs and slides his pajamas off, grabbing a towel and heading into the shower. He washes his hair and body in about 5 minutes.

He jumps out of the shower and stares in the mirror, running his hand through his wet hair. He grabs a bit of concealer from his sister's makeup and dabs it on a small pimple on his forehead. He's asked before if he could use some and she never said no, so he assumed he could use it.

Dallon sauntered into his bedroom, putting on his every day outfit. A pair of skinny jeans, a t-shirt, and a zip-up hoodie that he found on the floor. He sighed and grabbed his phone from his nightstand, checking Twitter and Instagram for any big announcements from last night. No big news.

He slides his phone into his pocket and strolls downstairs. Smelling the sweet, filling scent of the pancakes. He sees his dad at the table reading his newspaper, having a cup of coffee by his side.

"Well, first time I've seen you out of your room in a while, son." He smiles. Dallon rolls his eyes because he's made that same joke every year for the past 3 years. "Oh, quit that. I'm only joking around with you."

Dallon sits at the table across from his dad, looking at the massive pile of pancakes in the middle of the table. He grabs two and puts them on his plate, grabbing a bit of butter to slather the two pancakes.

"Oh, don't you need a bit more food? You are a growing boy, after all." His dad says to him, folding his newspaper and sipping on his coffee.

"Nah, I'm fine, dad. I don't wanna become fat like you." Dallon says with quite a bit of sass. He gets a gasp from his parents.

"Dallon James Weekes! You do not speak to your father like that!" His mother exclaims, using her spatula to make multiple gestures.

"Well, I mean, I'm not wrong..." He says under his breath, cutting into his pancakes.

"Your tone with me has changed quite a bit, Dallon. Care to explain why?" His father says demandingly.

"You expect way too much from me. I'm not the uber-masculine son you wished for. And I sure as hell will not play football." Dallon says in a slight mumble while putting a bit of pancake into his mouth.

"Well fair enough, Dallon. I'll let you just grow up to be like your uncle." He says with an overwhelming bitterness.

"Okay, dad. First of all, she's my aunt and she's fine now. Second of all, I'm not trans. Plus, I don't even know why it's so wrong that she's decided to live her life as a woman."

"Oh, of course, we've raised a faggot."

Dallon slams his utensils on the table and stands up, going over to the door and sliding his shoes and backpack on. "I'm walking to school. I'm not putting up with your transphobic bullshit today, dad."

He walks out, slamming the door behind him. Adjusting his backpack, he looks over at the group of popular kids all taking selfies together at the bus stop. He scoffs with disgust and walks faster to avoid the narcissism.

Hopefully he won't make a fool out of himself on the first day. But he probably will because he's a tumblr kid.