The boy is mine. You know that right?
That is to be seen. No decision has yet been made.
He already left you. He has more connections, more power, and more freedom with us. Why would he ever choose you over us?
Well not everything in this life revolves around the basis of power and stature. Some things are simply done and decided due to morals. You wouldn’t know about that now would you?
Ok. You really want to have this fight here, now, what if he hears this? Do you understand how detrimental this could be to both of our causes? One of us has to win his loyalty. If he stays on his own …. Who knows how this could turn out?
BEEP-BEEP-BEEP … BEEP-BEEP-BEEP … BEEP-BEEP-BEEP!
“Oh what the hell,” Fang muttered as he rolled in his sheets, straining to reach the snooze button atop the blaring alarm clock that lay on the nightstand to the left of his bed. As he swung his arm in attempt to hit the alarm clock he missed repeatedly, flailing wildly until at last he managed to push the snooze button.
“What in the hell kind of dream was that? It was black as pitch, and those voices. They seemed so far away, yet each word struck my ear with clarity beyond that of the most perfect diamond. It is as though they were in my head, but far enough withdrawn as to where I should not have heard them. On top of all that, WHAT THE HELL?!?! I mean really, who is this boy? Why is he so special? And WHY am I hearing about it?”
These thoughts raced his head as he struggled to make sense of it. He swung his legs out of bed and stood. He was a perfect six foot when he stood straight up, but his stature was poor at best. He refused to sit or stand straight, and he refused to listen to those that told him he would regret it later. He had long, straight, soft, and gorgeous hair for a guy. It hung in his face like a soft caramel sheet, hiding the multicolored hazel eyes that everyone adored. He never understood what anyone saw in him, personally, he believed he was nothing special.
He decided it was best to just ignore the dream. He would just shake it off; carry on with his normal, everyday routine. He slunk out of bed and rushed to the bathroom down the hall to start the blistering hot water before he could realize how chilly it had become in his house. He showered hurriedly, dried, and dressed, before he gazed out the window to see the overhanging clouds that looked fat with rain, in this cold, possibly even fat with snow. He inched back into his room, taking a moment to soak in the morning chill before the dull day’s monotony began again. He glanced at the black walls and red velvet curtains that were pulled back from his windows as a smirk lit up his face in response to his décor. The smirk quickly faded as he searched around to grab a jacket and his keys. Then he was off.
