Kristal||ONC 2020|| {Complete}

Chapter 3: The Lost Academy

After a hearty meal with Tiberius and his wife, Harold made his way home slowly. Every step he took made him feel breathless. Somehow under the dark skies, he could almost imagine his own breath fading into the coldness of the air. Taking a right turn at the junction of his house, Harold rolled his eyes at the sight of his cousins' Lamborghini still parked in front of his house.

How long are they going to be here?

Harold hated visitors that include his own relatives. He never once recalled enjoying an occasion with any of his cousins. Now that they are staying here, it made everything harder as he dragged his steps forward to the steps of his home. Despite having multiple plans of murdering his aunt's existence, he still loved his mother. True, she had not defended him much, but she is the only person he would trust in this universe other than himself. His mother will always be his responsibility and he hoped, one day, he would be able to turn his mother's mind around.

Harold kicked his shoes off as he stepped into the house only to be greeted by the horrendous laughter echoed in the living room. The twins were enjoying a live cooking show while their mother sprawled on the couch tiredly with her hair dangling from the edge of the couch. Ignoring their hyena laughs, Harold headed over to his mother's study and knocked onto the door gently.

Is he even ready to have this conversation with his mother?

He sighed, closing his eyes and gave another knock that echoed through the hallways.

Upon hearing the sound of the bed creaking from the inside, Harold stepped backwards before coming face to face with his mother who smiled at his presence. Gesturing for him to enter, Harold trailed behind, settling his bag on the ground before shutting the door tightly. The once bright bedroom his parents shared was still neat and beautiful. A vase of luminous and fresh red roses sat by the window, standing out from the twinkling lights of the city. On the blue bed, his mother's books laid neatly with highlighted sentences and post-it-note pasted with perfection.

"Mom," Harold called out softly, slumping himself down the couch in front of his mother's bed. "How long are they going to be here?"

"A few more days," she answered, forcing a smile on her face that Harold could see easily and looked into his eyes. "Vicky told me that her sons are renovating their home so it is going to take a while."

Harold tried not to express his feelings through his face. Looking out of the window, he licked his lips, biting the corner of it. That doesn't sound one percent logical to him, but he knew no matter what, his mother would trust his aunt regardless of his advice. Shaking his thoughts away about his aunt, he took out the folded papers from his pocket, including the additional forms he had impatiently chucked into the hind pockets earlier and handed it to his mother.

This was what he came here for.

He had been more than tempted to start on the journey without informing his mother, but something didn't feel right about acting that way. Even though he had always been compared to his cousins without his mother's back up, he knew deep down, his mother supported his career as a dancer still. She might have not attended any of his performances back then, but he caught her watching videos of him dancing from the old discs left by his father. Harold knew instantly from then on that if he were to dance again, his mother needed to know.

The last thing he needed will be watching his mother constantly being anxious about how he is living his own life.

Harold glanced down at the uneven toenails on his feet as he heard the papers being flipped gently. His mother studied them carefully one by one. He wasn't expecting a no from her, but anything could be possible ever since his father's passing. He tangled his fingers with the hem of his clothing, praying silently that she would agree with his choices. Silence had never been so suffocating for him.