𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐓+𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐒 ✭ 𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐍

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Phil stepped up the few stairs in front of his house. Vision dancing across his home in a single flash.

The house looked like a cut out from Architects Today magazine. On the hill, windswept as it was, had been build a house from such alien materials that local kids rumoured it to be a secret government base. Sometimes when out riding they would beg to pass it and then file past looking out of the corners of their eyes, not wanting to actually turn their heads and gawp. The sides were polished concrete and the door a slab of shiny stainless steel. The windows were taller than a man and more reflective somehow.

When Phil entered his house code, the multiple cameras slowly turned to identify him. The moon peaked out from behind mountains releasing a white sparkling haze into the air. The inky night would cave on the lavished house.

Only a few seconds later his front door clicked, unlocking itself inviting Phil inside with an uninviting vibe.

With one arm wrapped around his football and the other dangling a dirt crusted backpack, he turned his head watching the quiet dark blue haze of his house envelope him whole as his door shut behind him.

Silence.

A terrible sound Phil was used to by now.

Taking in a deep breath he tossed his bag watching it slide across the extremely clean floor. He stepped further into his house, throwing off his shoes as he walked not bothering to remove his mix matched socks as he continued. Putting his body on auto-pilot; he cleared his mind, pressing the fabric of his socks into the tiles beneath his feet walking over to his lounge area. One subtle step at a time. With no parent even there to bother him; he shifted his feet over the carpeted floor curling his toes around each individual thread of the rug, feeling the softness between his clothed toes and the expensive fabric.

He closed his eyes, letting the sound of dense cloud fill his ears and drown out the remainder of his hectic thoughts.

"Come on son, you've got this boy!"

Phil opened his ocean eyes as England's bright sun reflected off particles of gold in his young irises. His soft, small palms clenching around a ball's spherical shape, gliding his fingers across the almost microscopic bumps of the dented football. He shot his head up, his breathing heavy as his dad stood 8 feet in front of him; Mr Lester crouched down awaiting for his son to come darting towards him.

It was noticeable, Phil had an extraordinary gift for hurling balls across a field and darting for a touchdown.

Phil bolted across his dispatched, grassy backyard, ball clutched tightly in between his sweaty arm and side. He quickened his pace at an all-time sprint trying to prove himself worthy of his father. His tiny head ringing a crowds chant in his mind as his darting meant life and death. Like eagles soaring across the clear skies and a herd of cheetahs racing through vibrant meadows, he collided harshly into his dad's chest earning a grunt then a quick laugh. Intertwining with the happiness; Phil's frame started to be lifted up from the ground.

"Phil! Phil! Phil!" Micheal crowed, placing his gifted child on his shoulders, the amazing feeling of being close to one another creating a bond as they both chuckled and screamed out of excitement.

Phil shoved his ball to the ground, throwing his arms up in triumph, letting out a growl and a screech.

Then, emerging into the fame, Phil's mom came outside. Her well-manicured slender finger's doing their best to make it through the broken slider door of their out-dated house. The walls inside had a slight musky yellow to it and the old wallpaper began to drip away from the originally white painted drywall. Her eyes welling up in tears as she held a few scrambled pieces of paper in her hands.

Swiftly, Phil was taken off Michael's shoulders and placed on the ground as his dad rushed to her side. "What is it, Katherine?" He questioned, furrowing his eyebrows together in utter concern as he dipped his head over the wrinkled paper's in her hands.

"They like me," Those words slipped so easily passed her lips in complete shock. She began to tremble in place, as Michael's facial concerned expression slid off his face like ice cream off a child's cone and contorted into complete excitement. "They're promoting my fashion!" She lost her breath as she threw open her arms tossing her acceptance letter in the air, letting it float carelessly while Micheal pulled her into an embrace.

Phil shook his head taking in a deep breath opening his eyes in the process. He looked around his home for a bit, reminding himself how busy his parents must be.

Money can buy you most things, but money, can't buy you love.