The alarm on Brendon's phone blared with an intensity he hadn't heard since the last day of school. He instinctively pulled his comforter over his head and groaned into the warmth. Without even checking the time, he knew it was way too early to be awake on a summer morning.
Brendon was not a morning person- especially not during a vacation. This was mostly because of the strain being at home put on his relationship with his mom. Their two bedroom apartment was small as it is, so when he was home for the summer, the space felt even tighter. Yelling matches were the only consistent thing the two shared. Brendon's mother was quite the alcoholic and didn't hesitate to include her son in her violent drunken tirades.
He went out of his way to avoid his mother as much as possible, trying not to catch her while she was in between drinks or arguing on the phone with some bill collecter. As an extra precaution, he got a job at the local gas station about a month before school let out. He'd been saving about 60% of checks and giving the rest to his mother to keep her at arms length when she was angry. It had worked pretty well, and he was able to spend more time alone than being chewed out for the first summer since elementary school.
When he wasn't working a shift, he could be found locked in his room with his music at full volume and one of his friends on FaceTime. Staying up late to play video games and text his friends made being at home bearable. Unfortunately, Brendon would not be spending the next three weeks of his summer this way.
It was six o'clock in the morning in the middle of June and Brendon was expected outside of his front door in an hour. He could've easily gone for another four or five hours of silence, but this was no normal, annoying wake-up call. His dad was picking him up and taking him to his place in Las Vegas.
Brendon and his father had an uncomfortable relationship. The man had struggled with addiction since his early twenties and was in and out of Brendon's life. He occasionally sent a birthday or Christmas card but only saw his son a handful of times over the course of the past seventeen years. As adulthood began to swiftly creep up on him, Brendon figured that he would at least give his father one last chance before giving up on reconciliation... forever.
He forced himself to sit up and rub his eyes. Groggy and patched, he grabbed his glasses from his bedside table and took in the sight of his bedroom. Clothes, both clean and dirty, were strewn about the floor among random receipts and pieces of old homework. Empty bottles of water and iced coffee were in endless rows beside his bed, on his desk, against his walls. Brendon's room typically reverted to this state when school let out. The one thing that was out of place was the duffel bag that he had packed and placed by his door the night previous. If there was one thing he hated more than waking up early it was waking up early to pack.
He tossed his comforter to the side and swung his legs over the edge of his bed. He stood up only to lay down on the small patch of tile he kept clear and began his new morning workout routine. 25 pushups, 50 squats, and 75 sit ups. Only when he finished did he let himself drink from the water bottle he'd brought to his room the night before.
He took a deep breath and tried to convince himself that it would be a good day. He was already packed. He had about $400 in cash. And, at the very least, his mother was still asleep.
Grabbing his phone, Brendon walked into his bathroom. He sent a couple of random texts to his friends and checked the notifications he missed while sleeping. Given that he was awake nearly six hours ahead of schedule, there weren't as many as usual. He set his phone and glasses down on the counter and looked in the mirror. Even with his vision blurred, he could tell his hair was a mess.
He stripped out of the boxers he slept in and started a hot shower. As the steam fogged up his mirror, Brendon felt himself really start to wake up.
