Behind the Lights (Tommen legacy 1)

Chapter One

RORY- Age 17
    Fucking bullshit. The only thing that has been running through my mind this past car ride. Fucking Bullshit. I stare out the window of the backseat of my father's Range Rover as we ride through the gummy, bland town of Ballylaggin. We had planned this move for months, but I never thought my parents would do it. I miss Dublin, my friends, My team, and my school. Ballylaggin has none of that. I have been here since we visited my mother's brother and his wife, Aunt Aoife, for Christmas. Four Years ago. My Father, Rugby star Johnny Kavanagh, and My mother, Shannon Lynch, have talked about visiting, but Dad's game schedule and all of Mom's charity events never allowed time. Not to mention, my vigorous rugby schedule took up most of my time.
"This is nothing like Dub, Da," I told my father, sitting in the Rover's front seat. He placed one of his large hands on our black lab, Har lan, who took the front seat over me. I swear he loves his dogs more than his children sometimes.
"Never said it was Rory," he replies.
"yeah, well, you said we would love it here. It's where you and mam meet and all that bullshit, but dead honest, this town is bullshit,"
"Watch your tone. We haven't even gotten to the house yet, so calm your tits," I ignored by him; I stared out the window and watched the heavy rain pour down. Sensing my annoyance, my younger sister, Caoimhe, pulls her eyes from her books, scooches closer, and lays her tiny head on my shoulder. Caoimhe takes after our mother. She is tiny, shy, and frail, with long brown hair and light freckles dusting her rosy cheeks. She is the Complete opposite of her twin sister Eden, who stands at 5'10 and might be the definition of an annoying, stuck-up posh girl.
"Rory," Caoimhe nuzzles her cheek in my shoulder, "It'll be grand here; I'm excited," she says, her voice so soft you wouldn't even catch her as excited.
My dad looks back at her with a vast grin flashing across his face. I lock eyes with him, and my face instantly matches his. It is such a rarity for Caoimhe to be happy these days. Her anxiety was so bad in Blackrock that she wouldn't get out of bed, plagued by horrors I couldn't imagine. She wouldn't eat a thing, and she lost significant weight. It worried our whole family half to death. It was one of the main reasons Dad retired, and we decided to move somewhere with less bustling activity and press.
"See Rory," my dad says, putting his eyes back on the road, "I have a great feeling about moving here! And you are going to love Tommen. It was where I became friends with all your uncles and, most importantly, your mother,"
"Ew, Dad! Don't talk about that shite," I Gag every time my father talks about my mother. He is so in love with her it is sickening. I can't even fathom the amount of times I have walked in on them kissing in our old kitchen.
"Jaysus Rory, I didn't even say anything,"
"Sure, but you were thinking it, Dad," This comes from Caoimhe. I look at her in astonishment; this is the most she has talked about today, more than most days. I can see Da's grin from the rearview mirror. We are thinking the same thing. Maybe this is a fresh start for Caoimhe. Perhaps she will start coming out of her room and living. And that is all I need to hope for to love Ballylaggin.

~~~~

We arrived at our new house thirty minutes later. It is up on a hill stuck in the middle of a forest. There are a few houses near us but nothing too close. It's more significant than our house in Dub and less modern. Its exterior, adorned with intricate Tudor-style half-timbering, showcased the craftsmanship of a bygone era. Tall, narrow windows with leaded glass punctuated the facade, glowing warmly through the hard rain.
CeCe, Da and I grab a few boxes while Dad lets Harlan explore the vast yard surrounding the house. My Mam, Eden and younger brother Liam were forty minutes behind us in the SUV.
Inside, the interior revealed a masterful interplay of old and new. The foyer boasted a grand staircase with a carved wooden fence, while crystal chandeliers hung from lofty ceilings. Yet, the rooms were thoughtfully designed with modern furnishings that complemented the historic backdrop – plush sofas, sleek lines, and state-of-the-art technology discreetly integrated.
"Jaysus", I called to my dad, walking in with Caoimhe behind me, "how much did this place cost?"
"That's your mother's, and I's concern."
"This place must be ten times our old house!"
"Again, that doesn't concern you," he rolled his eyes at my comment. "Now, Caoimhe, why don't you pick out your room and unpack your things? I'll be up in a minute."
She nodded and rushed up that grand staircase at the front of the house. Harlan comes bustling in, soaking wet and tail wagging a minute after following her up.
"Rory, come in here for a minute," I followed my father to the modern kitchen at the end of the hall. It's dressed in sleek modern finishes, but the essence of vintage and Tudor stands in backdrops and cabinets' ornate patterns.
"Son, take a seat," I followed his hand painting to the island, where I sat. I look at my father now. Look at him. He seems impeccably grand for his age, with a still muscular body at 41. You can catch his age when he smiles, his eyes wrinkle at the corners, or the slight gray seeps through his brunette hair. I stand two inches taller than him at 6'5, but I always feel like the little ten-year-old boy at his dad's level when in his presence. He could hold the palm of the world in his hands.
"Rory, I know this is a big change, and you are not happy to leave your friends in your team, but I don't want you to complain in front of your mother or Caoimhe," he looks at me with big, expectant eyes. My parents never pressured me in sports or school, but they always expected me to treat people with kindness and try not to hurt anyone intentionally. And I have lived by those rules my whole life. I vaguely know not all experiences in Ballylaggin for my mom were good. She has a very troubled and hurtful past. She told me about one day when I asked why she attends all her charity events and why she constantly has us volunteer at women's and children's shelters and other places. It's hard to think about my mom in those situations when she is the most caring and thoughtful person I know, but there's no use in trying to erase the past, so the best I can do is give her the best future; what my dad has been trying to do for the past 26 years.
"I know you believe this move was just for Caoimhe's benefit, but it wasn't all that okay, and I want you to understand. Tommen has a very prestigious rugby program, the academy isn't far, there is a dance school a few miles away from Eden, and Liam will find the best education here for his big little brain. All okay, son,"
"I know, Dad," I say, guilt inflicting my blood. During the whole car ride, I complained about moving here, but I didn't think about what Caoimhe was going through; she probably thought I was blaming her. I made a mental note to apologize to her later.
"Thank you for being so understanding, son; you don't know how much I appreciate it, how much everyone does," he says, walking behind me and ruffling my hair, "I'm going to go help your sister. Ma's car will be here soon. Go freshen up, and the Gibsons will be here in an hour."
"like Gibsie?"
"No, like the mayor." I stop. I can't tell if he's being sarcastic. Seeing the confusion on my face, he gives me an arched eyebrow, "Yes, Gibsie, now go clean up. You smell like a teenage boy,"
I give him a nod, but I'm stuck in a daydream. The Gibsons are coming over. As in Gracie Gibson. My Gracie.