BLONDE | cobra kai

one.

"UNO!" shouted Maximilian Jackson from the cramped room. "I'm victorious once again!" he declared triumphantly.

"Alright, you win," chuckled Matthew Jackson. "But seriously, it's time to take out the trash. I asked you an hour ago."

"Fine, fine. But if that ferocious chihuahua outside devours me, avenge me, father," Max joked as he gathered the cards into a box.

"It's just a chihuahua," Matthew rolled his eyes teasingly.

"Exactly. Those little guys can be deadly," the blonde quipped as he headed to the kitchen to grab the black trash bag. "With malice," he added before stepping out the door.

Max spotted a middle-aged man emerging from his apartment, also lugging trash bags. "Hey, I'm Max," he jogged over to the man. "My dad and I just moved into Apartment 20," he said with a friendly smile.

The man didn't turn around. "Great, more immigrants," he muttered.

"Actually, we're from San Diego," Max pointed out. "But anyway, I was just wondering if you've been having any issues with your water pressure. Our sink's been acting a little weird lately," Max chuckled awkwardly, questioning his decision to ask.

The man glanced at him. "Oh, bottles go into the blue bin," he said.

"Listen, May," the man began, mangling Max's name. "I've lived in this dump for over 10 years. The pipes don't work, the fountain's full of piss, and the only good thing here is that I don't have to talk to anyone. So, nice meeting you. By the way, you also eerily resemble someone I used to know, which is disturbingly scary. It's like looking at him. Ew," the man said, grabbing his empty bucket and shuffling away to his car.

"Okay... well, have a nice day, I guess," Max sighed, feeling thoroughly perplexed. 

Max pushed open the door to his apartment, finding his dad engrossed in TV. "So, did the chihuahua get you?" Matthew quipped, laughing.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm halfway gone," Max joked back. "You start school tomorrow," his dad reminded him.

"Yeah, I know," Max rolled his eyes and settled beside his father. He reached for a beer bottle and took a sip.

"Hey, hey!" Matthew intervened, snatching the bottle from Max's grasp. "You're 16, don't do that to yourself," he scolded.

Max sighed. "It's okay when you drink yourself into oblivion?" he countered, staring at his dad.

"Excuse me? What did you say?" Matthew asked, anger flickering in his eyes as he shifted on the sofa to face his son.

"I'm just saying, sometimes you get so drunk you barely move. I don't know if you're dead or not," Max said, tears threatening to escape, but he held them back.

"Listen to me, once you're old enough, you'll understand the crap I'm going through," Matthew said, gripping Max's wrist tightly.

"Dad, you're hurting me," Max whined, attempting to free himself from Matthew's grasp.

"Pathetic," Matthew muttered, releasing Max's hand. The teen dashed to his room and locked the door. "Tomorrow is a new day," Max repeated to himself, a mantra for hope.

___

Max grabbed his tray of food and thanked the cafeteria lady before scanning the room for a place to sit. He noticed three guys at a table engaged in conversation. "Hey, is it cool if I sit here?" Max asked tentatively.

"Sorry, the table's really blowing up right now. I can put you on the waitlist, but it's probably next semester at the earliest," the boy responded, teasingly.