𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 |𝟏𝟖+

11 || Daddy Issues

Daddy Issues - The neighbourhood 

𝔚𝔚𝔚
Adrik

Vlast' kholchet vlasti.

Power wants power.

My father was one of the dumbest men I'd ever encountered in my life, yet that phrase was arguably the most impressive thing that'd come out of his dried up mouth.

The phrase lacked any phonetic pleasantries and at first listen, sounded like something out of the mouth of a fifth grader - but that was the impressive part.

My father hadn't gotten that far in his academic career.

He could barely read let alone stay sober enough to learn what his words truly meant. But I drew my own conclusions. A theory that was simple to my seven year old brain but too complex for his.

Our world revolved around power.

And the hunger it created amongst its victims was nothing but a clear depiction of how doomed humankind was.

People craved it, no one was safe from it and in southern Moscow, it seemed that the more power one obtained, the higher the stakes were.

It was a game.

The win was temporary, and constantly topped. The players were never satisfied and hungry for more. And the higher you got, the harder the play was. Because now, you weren't competing with just anyone. You were in the big leagues.

Little did I know at my young naive age that the notion didn't just hold true for the city of Moscow. It went beyond Russian borders, all over the world.

I'd long ago grown out of the league in Russia, but the statistical probability of winning this game was nearly impossible.

And so I waited, stayed patient until an opportunity presented itself.

I only ever played games to win, this was no different. So if anyone could succeed, it was me.

"Check."

The older of the two feeble minded lookalikes leans back in the chair opposed to me as a self satisfied smirk takes up his features.

I put that satisfied look on his face, only to take it away.

Chess was a game of patience, strategy and most importantly, silence. It was arguably the one source I derived an ounce of enjoyment from. But even I sometimes grew bored with the progress coming from my opponent and needed to take matters into my own hands.

He'd moved his knight to f3, and in protecting his queen, he'd compromised his king. I move my pawn up to e4. "Checkmate."

I watch the confidence drain from his face. It sends a surge of ease through me, almost making up for the disappointment of lousy opponent.

Dima gets up, allowing his twin to take his seat and begin to arrange the chess board for a new game.

Feo was better than his brother when it came to strategy, meaning the chances of this game lasting more than three and a half minutes was more likely.