Lovelies

Chapter 1:Bryant

Hearing the familiar sound of my phone’s annoying alarm, I groaned as I sat up, the morning sun piercing through my sight. “Unnghh..” I sat up for a minute, just letting my eyes get used to the sun, and it was actually peaceful in my room until my father barged in, precisely at 6:30. “Bryant! Get up, you good for nothin’ boy! I’m tired of hearing that dang alarm go off at the same time e’ry mornin’.” I shook my head, and bit my bottom lip, hiding the smile that was fighting to show, at the sight of my old man in his pajamas, and his hair all about. My father left just as quickly as he barged in, making sure to make a loud enough noise with the door slam, to wake me up completely. “Crabby old man..” I muttered, and found the jeans I wore last night, and slipped on a white v-neck, which complimented my muscular-ish form, and completed the outfit with a grey beanie over my dark hair, and a red, plaid button-down over the t-shirt.

After an interesting morning, but nothing out of the ordinary, something started to feel off to me. I came out of my tidy room from upstairs, which is usually so unkept that you can’t even open the door, and noticed how silent the whole house sounded. “Mo-” I started to call for my mother, when I heard voices from downstairs, seeming to be in the kitchen.

“Paul, are you crazy? You can’t send him out in that world alone at 18!” I heard the fear in my mother’s voice, unlike the gruff sound of my father’s. “Irene, he’s 18 years old! He needs to go out and learn to take care of himself! He’s not help around here, if anything, he’s a burden!” I snuck down a step or two, and listened in closer. “Paul, he’s our only son. He’s actually wanted to do better, unlike his sister.” I then heard my father’s loud footsteps through the kitchen, coming closer towards me. I then quickly stood up on my feet, in my black, faded converse I’d had since I started highschool. “Bryant!” He called angrily, and I came down the stairs, a little slower than usual. “Yeah, Dad?” I asked, as calm as I could. I saw my mother hide in the living room, away from us. “Bryant, get out of my house.” I did a double take. “Dad, wha-” “You heard me.” He said too calmly, as if he’d rehearsed it. “Let me get my shit together then.” My old man just stood there with his arms crossed.

I retreated upstairs, tears threatening my eyes, but there was no way I could cry now. It’d only get worse now. My own parents didn’t want me around. Life seemed to drop it’s value as I gathered my things into an old gym bag I had from my high school days in track. I only had a few things, including: My phone, Three full outfits, my leather jacket, two packs of cigarettes with a lighter, and another pair of old converse. Oh, and a wad of about $1,000 dollars I’d saved up to eventually move out. All the cash was hard-earned by long weekends at the grill in a local Waffle House.

There was so much sadness built up in me going up to my room, but when I came down the stairs, duffle bag on my shoulder, it had all turned to anger, hatred of my parents. My old douchebag of a father opened his mouth, most likely going to say something about my outfit, but I simply just stopped right in front of him. I dug out a pack of cigarettes, and popped one out of the package, and lit it right in his face. After taking a deep breath, I exhaled to where all the smoke went in his airway. “Fuck you.” I shook my head as I slammed the front door, and walked out to my faded red Cadillac Eldorado, throwing the duffle bag in the backseat, and revving the engine as I pulled out of the paved driveway. I’d never be back, and a part of me was... excited, for this new life I’d have. Alone, and free.

-Present Time-

It’s been about 10 months since then, and I can’t imagine a better life. I don’t have to worry about anyone else, I’m free to smoke as I please, and I can do whatever I want, when I want. I’ve kept down a job at the Waffle House downtown, just a few blocks from the Starbucks. But, recently, I haven’t gotten a shift, and am getting tight on money, so to keep this from happening in the future, and to make sure I have plenty of cash to keep me going, I sent a roommate request to the newspaper a few days back. I put my cell number, but so far, I haven’t gotten interest besides a few druggies down the street. Like I wanna live with them, yeah.

The apartment itself is pretty nice, if I do say so myself. It’s got two bedrooms, which is convenient, and a nice living room. The kitchen is medium sized, and has some barstools under the counter. All in all, it’s a good-sized apartment, and has these big windows in the living room, where you can see most of the town. It’s fuckin’ amazing if you ask me. Nothing better to smoke to.