Not The Life I Wanted

Rough Morning

~~~~~~~~8 years ago~~~~~~~~
"You're going to be a doctor or an athlete, nothing else! This artsy crap will get you nowhere, you hear me Brad?"

A crushed Bradley Uppercrust iii looked up at his father meekly, as the man shoved a torn drawing in the boy's face. "Yes father, I understand..." he mumbled.

"Good kid," his father chuckled sarcastically, walking out of his room.

Bradley frantically looked around his room, searching for something to save him from his predicament. His father had stormed in while Bradley was working on another drawing, a particularly difficult one that he was rather proud of. Bradley shuddered as he recalls the disgusted look on his father's face when he was holding the art school campus tour invite that had come in the mail that day.

"Now, would you care to explain why I just found this in the mail?" his father had asked, sneering down at him.

"Oh!" exclaimed Bradley, covered from head to toe in charcoal dust, "that's a letter from Duckburg's School of Art and Design! I was thinking about applying. I actually have a few pieces over here that I was going to show you and mother before I sent them in!"

Bradley winced, remembering the sound of his father ripping his drawing from his hands, tearing it into pieces.

"No son of mine is gonna go to school for this girly bull! I've worked so hard for you to have the perfect life. You aren't about to throw it away!"

As Bradley's eyes began to water, he glared at the floor of his bedroom. "This is how it's supposed to be! He only wants what's best. For me or for him? Hell if I know anymore!" He grumbled, shoving his easel on the ground, ripping his art pieces from the wall. "Doctor or an athlete, huh?" He chuckled grimly, "why don't I show you how good I'll be at both?"

~~~Present Day(post X Games)~~~

A older, now jaded Bradley Uppercrust iii groaned as he woke up from a particularly rough night. His fellow fraternity members had all been out partying the evening before, and had woken him up from his petty sore loser nap quite late. They had all agreed to take the loss in stride, well, except for Bradley. His mind was reeling with visions of the Goof boy's smirking face after his team's victory. It pissed him off to no end. Worse yet, he was expecting a disappointed call from his father any moment now.

Soon, Bradley will have completed his 6th year of his Doctorate, something to be celebrated, right? Not to his parents apparently. Despite his father demanding that Bradley either have a doctoral or an athletic path, once he decided to pursue both, his old man became obsessed with all of it. If he was failing classes, it was constant nagging about his grades, no mind paid to his success in sports. If he was excelling in his academics, he would receive constant lectures about what he lacked in sports instead. He just couldn't ever be happy for him, and his mother never interfered.

Bradley was fed up with all of it, hating Max Goof for refusing to join the Gammas. He knew that if he made an alliance with the first threat that had appeared in years, he would've gotten through just fine. But instead, Max just HAD to stick by his pathetic friends! It was embarrassing enough when Stacey had told him off at the Bean Scene, but losing his winning title had been a new low. They still won, they prioritized friendship and all that other crap and still came out on top. It made Bradley sick to his stomach.

'Maybe he was onto something with the whole friendship thing?' he thought, 'these past few hours have been extra rough with everyone giving me the cold shoulder.'

He wasn't exactly in the best standing with Gamma Mu Mu, especially Tank, but they had agreed to talk things out a little while after the event. Bradley could see the look of sympathy in Tank's eyes when he had finally made it back to the house. The larger boy was the only one to know about the pressure Bradley's parents put on him, so it seemed that, despite practically leaving him to die, he was still willing to work things out. Tank didn't quite know everything though, just that his parents love and affection was entirely based on how well he did in college. He was oblivious to Bradley's past love for all things art. Hell, everyone was! His father had made sure of it, swearing Bradley to secrecy when it came to his "girly" hobbies.

Tank's sympathy with his situation was the most notable silver lining currently, and Bradley began to find himself rather grateful for his friend. It was a different kind of gratitude than he was used to however, one that came with guilt. He wasn't used to guilt. He was fairly certain he wasn't a fan though.

His train of thought was interrupted by a groan from a Gamma on the floor below him. He sighed, finally deciding to get out of bed and go get something to eat, instead of wallowing in self pity all day, as much as he loved the idea.

He slipped on a sweater, and straightened up his hair, in attempt to uphold at least some of his charming reputation. Although, given the fact that at least half of the school had witnessed him being launched into space, it seemed unlikely that it would work.

As he closed the door to the frat house behind him, he inhaled the morning air, preparing for whatever humiliation might come his way, just from being seen out in public.

Bradley mindlessly walked for about 10 minutes, before coming across the place where his downfall first began. The Bean Scene.

He considered turning tail and finding a different coffee shop to drink away his sorrows, caffeine-style, at, but finally decided on entering. "Might as well get it over with now, can't let that Goof kid taint every place on campus," he muttered.

After begrudgingly stomping down the stairs, and finding a spot to settle in near the back corner of the restaurant, he began to study the menu, his concentration being broken by the very one thing he didn't want to hear right now.

"Ah-hyuck!"

Max Goof had just entered, P.J. and Bobby at his heels, and they all looked so incredibly happy.

Bradley had to hold back his puke.