Not 007

;one

(Two years before.)

"-ich. Roderich, Roderich, Roderich!" Roderich opens his eyes and meets those of his mother's directly above his. Startled, he flinches and his mother laughs."I'm sorry, honey, I apologise for waking you from your beauty sleep, but you've got to get ready for the charity in Berlin."

"That's today?" Roderich manages to say, his throat dry.

"Yes, and our flight leaves in an hour, get ready! Come on, go, go, go!"

Roderich groans and rubs his eyes before sitting up. He puts on his glasses and watches as his mother walks out of the room, closing the door behind her. He stretches and finally gets up. He walks to the bathroom and does his hygiene. It was the same thing, every day and it had been the same thing every day for as long as he can remember. This was annoying for him. Sure everything was okay then, when he was a kid. But now, he was an adult. A twenty-four-year-old adult man. He hadn't thought about how pathetic it was to still be living with his parents until recently, after his birthday a month ago. How nice would it be to feel...useful? He wanted to be independent and didn't want to be pampered his whole life by his parent or maids.

Once he came out of the bathroom, he found an outfit sitting on his now made bed. This was what he was annoyed of. He could've done his bed on his own, he could've gone to the laundry room himself to get his clothes. Except... he really can't. He doesn't know how to do anything. He is ashamed to admit it, but it is true. No one ever taught him how to make a bed, hell, he doesn't even know where the laundry room is located and he's been living in this house since he was born! It is humiliating. Despite being angry, he changes into the white suit and combs his hair. He grabs his cellphone and exits his room. He could hear his parents speaking from downstairs about things like who was going to be at the event. He walks downstairs, his shoes tapping and echoing as he does so.

"Roddy, honey, drink some juice before we leave! Do you want a slice of cake? Vanessa, could you bring Roderich a small slice of cake, I don't want him to spoil his appetite, but my baby boy has to eat."

"No, that's all right, I'll get the slice of cake myself. And the cup of orange juice." Roderich says as he makes his way into the kitchen.

"Roddy, do you even know where the pantry is? How about the fridge? It's okay Roddy, Vanessa can get it for you!"

"Mother, I can do it myself!" Roderich insists and opens the kitchen door. Now... where is the pantry? He had to figure these things out himself! Before he could see the pantry, he found the fridge and pulls out a pint of orange juice. But where are the glasses? In the cupboard, of course. The cupboards are fairly obvious to locate, they are above him! He reaches and opens one of the white cupboards just above him. As he reaches for a glass, he hears a snapping sound and before he knew it, the sound of glass breaking. He feels various stinging sensations as he falls.

"Roderich! Oh sweetie, are you alright?!" He hears his mother rush into the kitchen.

Roderich quickly stands.

"I'm fine," he says.

"You're bleeding, Roddy, you're not alright. Come now, get up, we'll get you cleaned up. Vanessa, please help me clean the glass!"

Roderich could barely feel the cuts over his rage. How pathetic! He couldn't even grab a glass of orange juice without hurting himself. He felt weak.  

"I just want to know things." He says.

"Oh, Roderich. If that's what you want, we'll teach you, now come on, sweety, let me clean you up. Vanessa, do we have a spare suit?"