Billy, the youngest of the trio at seventeen, was always the first to wake up. His room, painted in the stark white of a fresh canvas, smelled faintly of the leather baseball mitt he had left out to dry the night before. The sun peeked through the blinds, casting a checkered pattern on the floor that slowly marched towards his bed as the day began to warm up. He stretched out his arms, the fabric of his worn t-shirt brushing against the mattress, and let out a yawn that could wake the dead. His curly hair stood in defiance of gravity, a tangle of brown that matched the unruly mess of his bed. He got.
Up and went downstairs to see both of the brothers, Steven and Kevin, already in the kitchen, arguing over who was going to make breakfast. No, you need to stop Kevin because I'm gonna make breakfast.Steven said no.No, I'm gonna make breakfast.Kevin said they're both aren't doing over who should make breakfast and they just both start making it at the same time.
Steven, the eldest at eighteen, was more laid back than Billy. His hair was a straight, dark brown that hung in his eyes, and he had a lazy smile that never quite left his face, even when he was mad. He was wearing an old band t-shirt that had seen better days, and the smell of his cologne was faint but noticeable. Kevin, the middle child at sixteen, was shorter and more muscular than both of them, with hair so blond it was almost white. He had a quick temper and was known to throw a punch when words didn't suffice. Today, however, he seemed unusually calm as he cracked eggs into a bowl, his biceps flexing with the motion.
"You know what?" Billy said, watching them both. "I'll just grab a cereal."
Steven shot him a look, spatula in hand. "You can't have cereal again, Billy. You're gonna turn into a bowl of milk if you keep this up."Yeah yeah, whatever, Billy mumbled, pulling out the box of his favorite sugary loops. He poured them into a bowl with a clatter and added just enough milk to cover them. The sound of the fridge door closing echoed through the kitchen as he grabbed the carton. He took a seat at the table, the legs scraping against the tile floor.
Kevin raised an eyebrow, the sizzle of the pan interrupting the silence. "You're gonna regret that, you know."
"Regret what?" Billy munched on a spoonful of cereal, the sweetness exploding in his mouthy
.
Steven flipped a pancake in the air with a flourish, catching it with ease. "Regret not getting a real breakfast, obviously."Yeah yeah, I've heard it before, Billy said, rolling his eyes. But the truth was, he did feel a twinge of envy as the warm scent of bacon and pancakes filled the kitchen.
The doorbell rang, cutting through their bickering. They all turned to look at each other, surprised. It was early for anyone to be dropping by. Billy set his spoon down and padded over to the door, peering through the peephole. His heart skipped a beat when he saw who it was.
"It's Mark," he called over his shoulder, his voice tight with tension. Mark was the school's resident bully, and the reason for Billy's bruised ribs the week before. Kevin dropped the spatula, the sizzle of the pan forgotten as he rushed to the door, his eyes flashing.
"What does he want?" Steven asked, wiping his hands on a towel and joining them.
Billy took a deep breath and unlocked the door, pulling it open to reveal Mark's towering frame. His eyes narrowed, and he stepped aside to let the bully in. Mark's gaze swept over the three of them, a smug smirk playing on his lips.
"What do you want?" Kevin's voice was low, a warning growl.
Mark's smirk grew wider. "Oh, I just came to talk. I heard you had a little... accident at school, Billy. Wanted to make sure you're okay." His tone was thick with sarcasm, and he didn't bother to hide his delight in Billy's discomfort.
Billy felt his cheeks flush with anger. "I'm fine," he said through gritted teeth. "What do you want?"
Mark leaned against the doorframe, his arms folded over his broad chest. "Just thought I'd stop by and see how you're holding up. After all, I don't want you to think I'm not looking out for you." His eyes flicked to the cereal bowl on the table. "Looks like you're living the high life here."
