Addicted {bxb}

XIX

The tang of marijuana smoke clung to the air, a suffocating presence in the usually sterile living room. I sat by the window, a cigarette dangling precariously from my lips. Across from me, Randy, Oscar, and Erica were sprawled on the plush leather couch, their hushed voices punctuated by nervous laughter. The exam stress hung heavy, a tangible entity that they were trying to puff away with every exhale.

"Dude, did you even finish studying Chapter 12?" Oscar rasped, his voice rough from disuse.

"Like hell I did," I muttered, dragging deeply from the cigarette. "When was the last time you saw me step foot on campus?"

I wasn't looking for an answer as we lapsed into a comfortable silence, our only companions the rhythmic puffs and the flickering light of my phone screen. Just as Randy was launching into a story about a particularly embarrassing incident with his car, the front door creaked open.

A shaft of sunlight sliced through the dimly lit room, momentarily blinding me. I squinted and made out my parents' silhouettes framed by the golden light. "What are you guys doing back home so early?" I blurted, a touch of surprise laced with defiance in my voice.

My mom barely glanced at me. "For the tenth time, Justin," she sighed, her eyes glued to her phone, "we live here."

I ignored the familiar sting of her dismissive tone. Instead, I turned to my dad, not expecting anything different but was hoping for a more welcoming response. But our eye contact was shattered the moment his eyes spotted Randy, Oscar, and Erica huddled on the couch. A low growl rumbled in his throat, a sound strangely reminiscent of the garbage disposal struggling with a stubborn can.

Randy, ever the quick thinker, stubbed out the blunt with a practiced flick of his wrist. He rose, clearing his throat with exaggerated theatricality. "Mr. and Mrs. Park, it's a pleasure to meet you, finally. I'm Randy, Justin's..." He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence as my dad completely ignored him.

My dad marched towards the kitchen with a purposeful stride, his suit jacket rippling with each step and my mom followed close behind, the air crackling with unspoken tension.

"I'll text you," I whispered hastily, my voice barely audible over the tense silence.

Oscar, with a sympathetic pat on my back and a murmured "Good luck," shuffled towards the door, followed by Randy. I watched Erica lingered behind, her hesitation noticeable.

"It's always nice to see you, Erica," my mom chirped, a smile plastered on her face but there was a forced edge to her voice that scraped against my nerves.

"Same to you, Mrs. Park," Erica replied, her smile strained.

"Tell your mom we said hi and look forward to meeting with her tomorrow," my dad who was now perched on a barstool at the kitchen island, spoke without taking his eyes off his phone.

"I will," she mumbled, then turned to me. "Text me."

I nodded, a silent promise hanging heavy in the air. As the door shut with a soft click, the silence in the room became deafening.

"I thought you guys were going to be out all night," I said just to find anything to break the silence.

"What did we say about letting outsiders into our house?" my dad snapped, his voice was sharp, laced with an icy anger but it didn't cause me to flinch.

"You guys are never home. What else-" I retorted, my voice gaining volume with each frustrated word.

"I'll check around to make sure they didn't steal anything," my mom interrupted, her voice devoid of any warmth.

"Nothing was stolen," I exasperated. "If you would just-"

A heavy sigh escaped my dad's lips. "I really wish you would take after Maricio," he muttered, his voice barely audible. But I heard him, and a fresh wave of anger washed over me.

"This again?" I snapped, my voice cracking with frustration. "I am trying! But it's impos-"

"Not hard enough," my dad mumbled, seemingly more interested in the stock ticker scrolling across his phone screen.

"Can you just listen to me!" I finally snapped, my voice echoing in the sterile expanse of the living room. The room fell silent as I stood there, my chest heaving, my anger threatening to spill over.

"For fucks sakes do you hear yourselves?" I wasn't looking for an answer then stepped closer to the counter, slamming my hands on the countertop. "I'm not like Maricio. I'm not like Erica. I'll never be the perfect image that you two want for this family! I'm building my own life and-"

My mom scoffed which caused me to look at her with a raised eyebrow. She finally broke the silence, her voice laced with a condescending calmness. "A life?" she questioned like it was the most outrageous thing she's ever heard. "Drugs? Sex? Alcohol? That's the life you want for yourself?" she shook her head and ran her hand through her hair.

"That's not going to happen, Justin," my dad added on to the conversation.

"You two don't even look at me. You're barely home but when you are home your eyes are glued to your screens. Is there something more important on the internet that you just have to see to the point you don't even acknowledge your own son!"

"Our lives are on those screens," my mom said in a calm tone.

"Yeah. And my life is here. Reality." I shook my head then took a step back, adding, "Somewhere you guys should be too."

I turned and jogged up the stairs, my footsteps echoing in the cavernous living room, hearing my dad call out, "You're going to the meeting with the Dellmon's tomorrow. Don't even think about getting out of it."

I slammed the door of my bedroom shut, the sound a solitary cry for attention in the vast emptiness of the house. I fell onto my bed, burying my face in the pillow, the anger had ebbed away, replaced by a deep, soul-crushing loneliness. I yearned for the warmth of a conversation, for the genuine concern of parents who saw me for who I was, not who they wanted me to be.

All I wanted was a single day of their attention, a day without the business talk, the social climbing, the constant pressure to achieve some unattainable ideal. All I wanted were my parents.

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