Gray Heroics: Book 1

Keep It Righteous: Chapter 3

"Do you have everything you need?"

"Yeah, I have everything."

"Everything?"

"Yes, mom... I have everything. I have to head out now if I want to make it on time by normal means." A little back and forth ensues between the young man and his mother as he finishes up tying the last of his shoelaces on his right converse sneaker. A young man with a very fair and slightly pale complexion, shaggy and somewhat short raven hair, eyes a neon-like jade color that anyone would swear glows if they were standing near him in a dark room, a lean and strong physique adorn by a white t-shirt, red sport wristbands on each wrist, fitted blue jeans upheld by a stylish belt with studs all throughout its length, and of course the pair of red gym shoes on his feet. He looks to be no older than 18 judging by his youthful, yet strong features and his height of 5'11 & 1/2.

"Alright, just making sure. Buuuuut... I do think there is one last thing you're missing on your way out, Tyson." The mother insists in a rather singsong tone while presenting a gesture. Her arms extend and spread expectantly as her son stands up from where he's sitting. Without failure or hesitation, Tyson turns to face and approach her welcoming arms for an exchange of embrace. The mother hugs him with thorough affection, while the young man minds his strength while returning the effort to the best of his ability.

"That's my boy." She says affectionately and gives him a few gentle pats on the back before their hug inevitably ends.

"I love you, too, mom." Tyson responds with a grin, soon bending over to pick up his gym bag from the floor and places the slang over his head.

"Alright, I gotta' go." He tells her and follows up by leaning in to place a kiss onto her cheek.

"Bye, mom. Bye, dad!"

"Have a productive day at work, son." His father calls out from the living room.

"Bye, honey." His mother bids him farewell in turn before he heads on out, then shuts and locks the front door as he heads down the steps of their porch. 

With haste behind his steps, Tyson  hustles his way to work -- a clothing & accessory chain store that focuses on selling merchandise that derives from the ever-lasting and ever-changing fashion trends that hail from the subculture of punk, goth, and everything else in between. 

Nearly halfway through the ten minute walk, his cell phone begins vibrating within his pocket. He plucks it out, sees that it's from his co-worker, Alexecute, and accepts the call before bringing the device up to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Yo, boss. Don't suppose you're willing to share what you learned now? I saw your text about waiting until the next meeting, but you know there's no real team privacy in that building. Moochers will hop on our case like flies nosediving right into a pot of honey." Alexecute reasons, presently sitting at her bedroom desk. Her right hand supports her chin, while her left mindlessly taps her mechanical pencil away at the wooden surface in front of her.

"Yeah, I know, I know. But it's the most convenient place for all of us to meet without possibly sharing or giving away too much personal information."

"B'aah... C'mon, we've been teammates for practically two years now, and I even have your phone number!"

"Yes. Yes you do... Which you're only supposed to call me through for emergencies." Tyson reminds her.

"I know, but I've called you plenty of times now. We're super cool. Plus, my parents even have your number, too. You're like... My albino cousin at this point!"