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[color=lightgray][indent][indent]The smell of breakfast was what woke him from his slumber. With the constant physical activity he did, Michael tended to sleep like a rock, but the smell of pancakes, bacon, eggs, and hashbrowns brought him back to life. He slowly threw one leg over the bed and lazily sat himself up. Was he always this tired? Maybe his mom was right, maybe he [i]did[/i] need to quit the job if he was going to be this focused on his fitness, sports, [i]and[/i] trying to get into a good college. His head hurt, something to do with staying up too late the night before — or maybe overworking himself at the gym? Staying up wasn’t his fault! Between all of the obligations he had, he basically only had the dead of the night to do what he wanted.

He moved slowly, but he eventually made it up and out of the bed, grabbing the Rubik’s cube on his desk as he headed toward the door. It took him even longer to get downstairs, and when he made it to the kitchen he was still wearing his pajamas - flannel pants and no shirt. It wasn’t like it mattered, his mother was working another overnight at the lab, which left only Michael, his dad Damian, and his youngest brother Samuel at the house.

Which was probably why as he approached the table, he could hear the sounds of a Nintendo Switch emanating from the dining room. His father was still standing over the stove, flipping blueberry pancakes over. Samuel, however, was sitting at the table and pressing buttons on his Switch. The tired Mikey took a seat across from Sam and stared at him. [color=#2dabff]“Didn’t mom say not to play games at the table?” [/color]He asked as he turned the Rubik’s cube in his hands. Rubik’s cubes were easy, they had patterns.

[color=#b6462f]“Mom’s not here!”[/color] Samuel chirped in response.

[color=#2dabff]“I didn’t know that turned her rules off.” [/color]Mikey hissed as he narrowed his eyes. There was a certain bitterness to his tone, nothing out of line for an older sibling talking to a younger one, but it was still notable. In his hands, he shuffled the Rubik’s cube, getting it ready to play with while he ate his breakfast. His dad walked to the table with a huge plate of food that he dropped in front of Michael.

[color=#309b75]“Come on, Mike. Your mom’s at the lab, so that means it’s dad’s rules. And dad’s rules are: breakfast, served twice a day, video games at the table, and best of all —” [/color]Damian, his father, explained with a grin toward his younger son as Samuel’s eyes lit up with excitement.

[color=#b6462f]“We get to watch scary movies and stay up late!”[/color]

[color=#309b75]“That’s correct.”[/color]

Michael didn’t respond, mostly because he was busy shoveling food into his mouth as fast as possible. His body had a desperate need for fuel. It was almost impressive how fast he was getting through the plate, but of the people in the house, Michael certainly burned through the most calories. He tore a piece of bacon with his teeth and spoke while chewing, [color=#2dabff]“whatever! I don’t want to listen to Fortnite while I’m trying to eat, man.” [/color]He said, glancing at his father, but Damian just shrugged and returned to the stovetop. Michael would want more food after he was done with this plate, Damian remembered what he was like when he was a teenager.

[color=#b6462f]“Don’t worry about it, dad. He’s just mad because he’s never won! Even though it’s a game for [i]kids.[/i]”[/color] Samuel’s voice was undeniably smug as he taunted his brother, before there was a loud [i]THUD![/i] followed by Samuel squeaking, [color=#b6462f]“OW! DAD! MICHAEL THREW HIS STUPID RUBIK’S CUBE AT ME!”[/color] Michael had pitched the puzzle box at his little brother, tagging him square in the chest.

[color=#2dabff]“Boo frickity hoo, mom’s not here. So [i]her rules don’t apply.[/i]” [/color]Michael leaned across the table, reaching for his Rubik’s cube, but Samuel dropped his Switch and snatched the cube up in one smooth motion. He jumped away from the table as his older brother complained. [color=#2dabff]“Give it back, dude! Do you know how hard it is to find a genuine one these days!?”[/color]

[color=#b6462f]“I’m gonna mess it all up first, you butthole.”[/color]

[color=#2dabff]“DAD! HE CALLED ME A BUTTHOLE!”[/color]

[color=#309b75]“You hit him with a Rubik’s cube, big dog! What do you expect?”[/color]

Michael sunk back into his chair in frustration. [color=#2dabff]“Fine. Mess it up. It only takes me like thirty seconds to fix it! Did you forget about that?!” [/color]He demanded, with a mouthful of potatoes in his mouth. He was talking with his mouth full way more often than he would have with his mother there, but he figured if the rules were different for Sammy… they were different for him too.

[color=#b6462f]“Okay… I guess I’ll just do this.” [/color]Samuel lifted up his arm, like he was going to spike the cube onto the ground, but he tensed up as Michael jumped out of his chair, a piece of pancake still on his fork. Samuel watched closely as his older brother tore the flapjack from the fork and chewed it aggressively with wide eyes that could only be described as ‘crazy.’ He slowly brought the Rubik’s cube back down and placed it gently on the table.

Michael nodded and sat back down, using the side of his fork to rip off another piece of the pancake. Samuel wasn’t going to let his elder brother have the last laugh, though. [color=#b6462f]“You’re just mad because you’ve never gotten a Victory Royale.” [/color]He said with a devilish grin, and Michael immediately dropped his silverware.

[color=#2dabff]“DAD! YOUR SON’S A DICK!”[/color]

[color=#309b75]“What the fuck is a victory royale?” [/color]Damian asked as he walked back into the kitchen, dumping another pile of food on to Michael’s nearly clean plate. [color=#309b75]“And don’t call your brother a dick! He’s a kid.” [/color]Damian shook her head as he unloaded the last couple of pancakes onto Samuel’s plate. [color=#309b75]“You need to take Sammy to school today. I gotta do… house stuff.” [/color]Damian had been given a list by his wife before she’d left, but he hadn’t even started yet. Some of it, he decided, he would call Trevor for.

Michael looked up and sighed, [color=#2dabff]“after he was just a little butthead!? Come on, dad. You take him. Make him walk or ride the bus. I don’t wanna have to deal with him. And a victory royale is a Fortnite thing. It’s just what winning is called in it —”[/color]

[color=#b6462f]“And Mikey’s never won because he sucks. He even makes me lose when we play together!” [/color]Samuel said, and Michael scowled. Damian sighed and shook his head.

[color=#309b75]“Be nice to your brother! He’s gotta take you to school, little dude. You wanna walk?” [/color]Damian asked, and Samuel seemed to think about it for a minute before shaking his head no and starting to eat in silence. Damian let out a relieved sigh and smiled, [color=#309b75]“I told Joy I had it under control.”[/color]

A few minutes later, Michael and Samuel were in his car and heading down the road toward Samuel’s school first. As they drove, Michael decided — perhaps foolishly — to open up the conversation that had started at the breakfast table. [color=#2dabff]“Listen, dude. I can win a fuckin’ game of Fortnite, okay? I just haven’t yet because I don’t really play.” [/color]Michael said, glancing over at his brother only briefly as they pulled into the parking lot of the elementary school Samuel attended.

[color=#b6462f]“No you can NOT, dude! I’ve watched you play video games, and like, you’re good at everything else in life… but man when you pick up a controller you run into the wall like an idiot!”[/color]

[color=#2dabff]“You’re lucky I didn’t run this car into oncoming traffic, you little brat!” [/color]Michael clapped back, slapping the steering wheel. He did not give a vocal response for the simplest reason: he did not have one. Samuel was right, he sucked at video games, it was so embarrassing sometimes. Video games were meant for children, and Michael even liked playing them! But he had no Victory Royales, no Fall Guy crowns, no Warzone Dubs… He barely even made it through 2K’s career mode.

[color=#b6462f]“Listen, dude. If you can get a SINGLE Victory Royale, I’ll do all your chores for a [i]month[/i]. I mean, it’s like, pathetic at this point. You embarrass me when you join my lobbies and you don’t even have the umbrella.” [/color]

Michael swallowed his pride and nodded. [color=#2dabff]“You have a deal.” [/color]He said through clenched teeth. Samuel grinned and threw open the door before he froze with eyes as wide as a deer in the headlights. Michael knew something was wrong, something was horribly wrong. Cautiously, he asked in a gentle voice. [color=#2dabff]“...everything okay?”[/color]

[color=#b6462f]“I forgot my backpack! Usually mom grabs it, but she’s not here so I just… forgot. Can we go back and get it!?” [/color]Samuel was having a moment of crisis. His backpack had his whole life in it, including most importantly the homework he’d worked so hard on the night before. Homework, he’d found, was a lot harder when dad was helping him with it instead of his mom. It wasn’t his dad’s fault; Joy O’Connor was a once-in-a-lifetime genius, and Damian O’Connor was a retired professional football player. The gap between them when it came to math, even fourth grade math, was astronomical.

[color=#2dabff]“What!? No! I have to go to school too… I’ll just text dad. He’ll grab it for you, okay? Don’t worry about it, just go to class. If your teacher says anything, just try to ignore ‘em. Dad’ll be here lickety split, we both know he’s got nothing better to do, alright?” [/color]Michael said, and Samuel meekly nodded, the look of despair still in his eyes. Michael got it. He’d had the same fourth grade teacher, and Ms. Wik was a fucking bitch - though Michael would never vocalize that to Samuel.

He reached across the center console and ruffled Samuel’s hair, and grinned. He was trying to reassure his little brother. As much of a little shithead as Sammy was, he was ultimately Michael’s little shithead, and he wouldn’t change his brother, or really any member of his family, for anything. [color=#2dabff]“Trust me. You’re gonna be fine, and if you’re not? Me, you, and Ethan will go TP her house. Got it? Now go get it done.”[/color]

Samuel seemed to accept this and he nodded, [color=#b6462f]“okay… Thanks, bro.” [/color]He opened the door and returned the thumbs up that Michael gave him. A sacred promise between brothers.

With that out of the way, Michael quickly wrote a text to his dad to bring his brother’s backpack to the school and then he drove off, headed toward the high school where his own life awaited him. As he drove, he schemed in his head - how was he supposed to get a Fortnite Victory Royale? That game was fucking hard; he didn’t even understand how his brother did so well in it, but then he and his brother had never won together before… Did he know anyone in BHHS who was good at video games…?[/indent][/indent]

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[hr][right][color=lightgray][sub]Small FT: [color=#eab147]Dylan[/color] [@smarty0114][/sub][/color][/right]
[indent][indent][center] [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fExPl8H3HlA][i][color=#3adc56]“I told my mother, my brother
My sister, and my friends
Told the others, my loves,
both past and present tense
That every time I see you, everything
starts makin’ sense
Do your thing honey!”[/color][/i][/url][/center]
As Nicky Snyder sang, he scribbled with his pencil on a piece of printer paper he’d snatched when Phoenix had looked the other way. Frankly, Nicky didn’t see the point to a homeroom class like this. Shouldn’t they be in classes where they actually learned something? Or, if not that, doing anything else? He didn’t get why there were so many requirements in high school. It was high school. Arrive. Do school work. Leave. Why was it anything more than that?

He was doing an excellent job of ignoring everyone else in the world, but maybe it was the THC that was still flowing through his bloodstream that kept him locked in on his ‘artwork.’ Bobbing his head up and down to the music that was blasting in his headphones, Nicky was currently doing his absolute best to make a Flip-o-Rama reminiscent of the Captain Underpants books he and Dylan had read in the past — and sometimes in the present. The future? Most definitely.

[center] [i][color=#3adc56]“Ain’t no other man can stand up next to you[/color][/i]
[i][color=#3adc56]Ain’t no other man on the planet does what —” [/color][/i][/center]

Nicky’s shitty whisper-singing came to a rapid close as he felt his headphones ripped off his head. He whipped his head to the side, shooting a glare in the direction of whoever it was. [color=#3adc56]“Mikey, what the FUCK?! I was jammin’, dude. You never break someone’s concentration while they’re jamming.” [/color]

[color=#2dabff]“I need a favor.” [/color]Michael sighed, shaking his head. Wasn’t there anyone else in this class who could win a game of Fortnite? His only options to win the bet with his younger brother were Cheech and Chong? Michael wasn’t sure who Nicky thought he was fooling, he could still smell the scent of marijuana radiating off of him. People knew, Nicky. They definitely knew.

[color=#3adc56]“What!? Aren’t you elite! Get the elite to do it - this ain’t a charity case, broski.” [/color]Nicky said, before turning his attention back down to his drawing. He did, however, let his headphones fall around his neck. He was listening, for whatever it was worth. It was also made quickly apparent that he wasn’t done talking, [color=#3adc56]“man, you gotta be truly desperate to come to me for help. This is gonna be some of the dumbest shit I ever heard, huh?”[/color]

[color=#2dabff]“I need you to get me a win in Fortnite by Monday.”[/color]

[color=#3adc56]“What?! That’s a ridiculous request! That’d be like me telling you I need a date to homecoming and the part-”[/color]

[color=#2dabff]“Done. Easy.” [/color]Michael said, ready to make a trade offer that was heavily Nicky sided if it meant he could finally have that stupid umbrella that had eluded him for so long. [color=#2dabff]“I’ll get you a date, and you, the date, and Dylan can kick it with me and the boys the whole time. King treatment.” [/color]Mikey didn’t think to ask his friends if that was okay, but then he found himself not really caring. Chances were, the only one who might say anything was Theo - and Theo could be drowned out by others.

Nicky thought about it. Michael grew visibly frustrated, but Nicky seemed to be enjoying this temporary exchange of power, [color=#3adc56]“yo, Dyl. What do you think? Deal… [i]or no deal?[/i]”[/color]

[color=#2dabff]“This is stupid! This is like a hold up. What else could you two [i]possibly[/i] want!?” [/color]Michael was getting openly exasperated, and quickly remembering why he did his best to avoid this particular duo.

Dylan slowly spun his chair around, slouching with his arms across his chest. [color=#eab147]“You come to us, on this day of celebration, and you ask for a favor?”[/color] Dylan said, his voice contorted into what might’ve been the worst Marlon Brando impression ever performed. He almost asked Mikey to kiss the ring, but he figured that would be pushing his luck. Besides, there was something else he wanted wayyyy more than a kiss from Mikey O’Connor. A boy was simply not complete without his bullhorn. Dylan steepled his fingers and grinned over them at Mikey, a fox in teenage boy’s clothing. [color=#eab147]“Tell me, Michael, how good are you at breaking and entering?”[/color]





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