Asher King's life has revolved around putting up an involuntary mask to hide his true self. With successful parents boasting about his 'pretend' success, Asher feels as though the life he is living was never his to begin with, and a home of happines...
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———————————————————————— Good morning, gorgeous. You probably won't hear much from me today since I have a pretty busy schedule, but I just wanted to say that I hope you have a good day xoxo ————————————————————————
Leo's text instantly brightens my day.
He has now been gone for five days and that is honestly the longest that we have spent apart since we started dating. I think that a little bit of space is good for us, though. We both are always around each other, but we still need to learn how to fight some battles on our own. The difference now is I am stronger when fighting my battles because I met Leo.
I'm sure Leo is doing great at his UCLA visit, meeting the team and whatnot. I just don't know if I'll ever be good enough to get into a university like that if he does want to go there.
I try not to dwell on it for too long because I check the time and see that I am already running late for school.
After shooting Leo a sweet message back and getting ready for school, I find myself in the kitchen making some breakfast.
It's pretty quiet in here, with the exception of Shelly's sweet greeting. It's quite unusual that nobody is hustling around the house, but I'm not going to question it.
My parents have always had it engraved in my head that I should never be cooking for myself. I should always let someone else do the work for me. I don't think they realize I want to live for myself. That or they are too ignorant to recognize.
My luck runs out way too quickly as my mother appears. I pop the two sides of my bagel in the toaster and she immediately comes running over.
"Oh, Asher, why didn't you ask one of the maids to cook for you?" she says with a fake sweet tone.
"I didn't want to," I grumble.
"Well, it doesn't really matter if you want to. That's what they are here for."
I ignore her and grab the peanut butter from the cabinet.
I was hoping she would go away, but I can still feel her looming over my shoulder.
"Son, I was wondering if I could talk to you," she says.
I finally turn toward her with a quirked eyebrow.
"I know your father can be quite intimidating at times, but I just wanted us to talk alone for once."
I don't say anything. I just start smearing some peanut butter on my bagel before sitting down at the dining table.
It may be unfair of me to ignore her like this, but I am honestly fed up. She's had seventeen years to talk to me or at least to stand up for me.
Mother pulls out the chair across from me with a hopeful smile.
