Harold is a professional and talented fifteen-year-old dancer who disappeared from the dancing world after 2nd October 2010, causing his name to be left forgotten and his father's beloved dance academy to fall under the hands of their opponent. His...
Harold sat next to his mother silently during dinner. After being nagged for being late, he wasn't really in a mood to argue. Besides, he felt slight happiness knowing that his cousins and aunt would be leaving tonight. At least, his comfort would be back. No more midnight karaoke in the living room or unpleasant scent during tea. Aunt Vicky still couldn't cease her bragging about her sons. Sometimes it hurt him, knowing how his mother had nothing to say but merely agreeing.
"Well, thanks for the dinner," said Vicky, pushing her hair backward as she patted onto her sister. "I will be sure to drop by anytime. It's kind of you to host us. I would love to stay, but my boys have finally found a temporary home for me. How sweet?"
He barely concentrated on the rest of their conversation only to sit down at the chair they had prepared in the garden. His legs were sore from intense training and his body had been craving for rest, but he wouldn't grant them those. He needed to push past his own limits. Perhaps maybe, sinking himself in between his practices was a way to make him forget how messed up his own world is. Reaching out to massage his sore muscles, Harold glanced towards the twins who were heading towards his direction.
"You don't seem like you have lots to say," teased James, reaching out to brush his fingers onto Harold's hair, flicking the bug that has just landed on it. "You are afraid of your mother, aren't you? A mother's boy. How long do you think you are going to protect her?"
"It's none of your business," muttered Harold softly as he watched the flowers danced with the evening breeze. "Get lost. I don't wish to see you again."
Right at that moment, Vicky called out for her sons. Harold breathed in the cold air that soothe his lungs as he watched them drove away in the overdressed vehicle. He exchanged glances with his mother before heading back into their home. Even though his house was a small one unlike his cousins, he had been glad that he maintained the home through legal money. At least there is a safe roof above their head.
"What did you tell the twins?" Samantha asked facing her only son. "I told you to be nice to them. Not to argue with them. You need to learn how to respect your own cousins. They are the only family you have other than me."
Harold bit his inner lips, turning to look out of the window. He had grown accustomed to these ever since his father's passing. The need to actually succumb to his cousins' needs were more important than his apparently. Without saying a word, he headed over to the kitchen, picking up the used plates and placed them in a sink. He didn't want to cause an argument, not because of the twins and because it wasn't worth it. He pressed his lips together, trying to prevent himself from arguing with his mother as he heard her throwing him lectures about how they are family and everything.
"Look at me, Harl!"
The younger turned around, facing his mother. He wiped his palms with the cloth before meeting her eyes.
"I know how much you care for them since my uncle passed away, but mom, you need to remember something. I lost my father because of them. I am not saying you have it any easier, but each time I set my eyes on them, I can only remember the void that was created," said Harold softly. "Besides, you really need to wake up from your dreams, mother. They are not good people."
"Are you saying I am a bad mother now, Harold? I took care of you for years and this is the way you are going to repay me?" Samantha questioned, her fingers tapping onto the dining table.
"No," he muttered with a lower voice. "No. You are just too blind to see who is the best for you even when you lose someone who had been clearly protecting you all these while."
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