The Counselor

Chpt 1. Rebel for the kick of it

Matt smiled as his tan; spidery fingers typed away on his banged-up MacBook. Hunched in an old computer chair, his blue sweatsuit shifted with him. He adjusted the clip holding his red-streaked bangs away from his face. His thick-rimmed glasses illuminated the code he'd written.

Smiling, his gold earrings bobbed with the song, "Phoenix", playing in the background. He was almost there; after months of hacks and bugs, he was now witnessing the best system in the world crumbling at his feet. "Just three more codes..." he mumbled.

A creak from a distance immediately made him pause. His honey-brown eyes widened. "Crap."

A pair of flats creaked as they climbed onto the first steps. This only made him type faster. The footsteps grew louder as they went from the third to the fourth stair. He typed faster.

A hand went to dark pink lips, "Matt? Matt, are you all right?" A feminine voice called; a look of concern colored her dark brown eyes. She continued to climb. Her black jeans swished from her untucked-in pink blouse.

"Come on. Come on. Come on..." He whispered as he typed in the last few numbers and letters. The footsteps finally began to seize as they went to his bedroom door. The woman knocked, "MATT!" she called.

JUST ONE MORE! He typed in the last letter. There was a moment of silence until he heard the heavenly words, "Welcome to the Pentagon," the computer spoke.

"Yea!" His fists pumped in victory as he turned to see his mother, a sickened glaze in her eyes. His arms dropped in surprise.

***

A man sat in a dark hotel, horrified at what offended his laptop and eyes. He still had his tank top and boxers on from his short nap. He brushed the strands of his black hair from his eyes as he stared at the address.

He shook his head, this couldn't be. That was the address. He clicked in closer, the red blinking dot way too close to the green. It was only a few meters away. His gray eyes shifted to the brown dresser – his phone buzzing. Picking it up, he answered the call.

"Yeah, I saw it too." He absent-mindedly clicked on the green button, "Just saw some names," squinting, "It's under Timothy Louis Adalhard." There was more talk on the phone.

"Right away sir." Throwing it down beside him, he rubbed his bleary eyes before grabbing his white shirt off the floor.

Next thing Matthew knew he was downstairs in their run-down kitchen; his parents yelling and walking around him - telling him how his punishment will surpass anything he'd ever had.

Knowing he was in trouble, he still couldn't keep a smirk off his lips, "Well, since you can't ground me, I guess I'm off the hook."