Chapter Text
I woke up at the same time as always, two hours before my first class. The curtains of my room were closed, however the sun, powerful as always, enlightened the room with it's shining. I sat on the edge of the bed, looking at Floof in a corner of the room while a tear escaped the edge of my eye because of a loud yawn coming from my mouth. It was the same routine everyday, nevertheless I was happy about that fact. Wilbur says i'm a control freak, but after all, this routine is the one getting me to college. It's exhausting being me, I get up at five in the morning just to get prepared for the next eight hours of study with two recesses of half of an hour, I have the entire book of quotes by Niche, Dolstoievsky, Confucius, Aristotle, Socrates and Rousseau stuffed into my brain like a mantra. I do all of this while keeping a close relationship with my father and taking care of who is supposed to be my old brother and the annoying gremlin we call Tommy. I am also the captain of thirteen clubes, (I don't even know the purpose of half of them but I need extracurricular activity in my resume) and I'm keeping a 3.86 G.P.A through this entire senior year I have left.
I walk out of the room followed by the dog that stares at me curiously, In front of me there's a door that leads to will's room, tommy's is in the first floor because after a couple of near deadly accidents in the stairs down, Phil finally decided Tommy was just not up to the second floor level... yet.
When I get downstairs, I immediately regret it. The living room rumbles with the yells of Wilbur and the loud laugh of our younger brother. I gaze at the not so pleasant performance taking place there.
Tommy has no pants on, just his underwear and his casual pajama t-shirt, he's running around the room being chased by Wilbur that has the kid's pants in his hands.
"tomehSTOPITYOUSONOFABITCHPUTYOURPANTSON"
I instantly made the attempt to head back to my room when I heard a loudTHUD!
I look back, Tommy struggling to get Wilbur off him while he slaps him across the face with his own trousers.
"HAHA GOTCHA BIT-"
He is cutted by the younger, somehow giving him a light but painful kick in the crotch. Wilbur is crying on the floor by the time I decide to actually do something.
"PHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIL" I shout.
"wassup, mate?" he yells back.
"Tommy and Wilbur are fighting!"
There's just a few seconds of silence before I hear him speak again.
"So?"
"Tommy is not wearing pants!"
"AGAIN?!?" The sound of footsteps fills the house.
We all know what's coming. Phil gets in a matter of two seconds, he places his hands on his waist, almost like a disappointed mother looking at her reckless sons... Which is almost what is happening right now.
"Tommy! How many times do I have to tell you? PUT SOME f*ckING PANTS ON!!"
wilbur laughs.
"Oh you think it's funny, mate? YOU THINK IT'S FUNNY?" he looks back at me "You, get ready for school" he points at tommy "GET YOU PANTS ON AND LET'S GO IT'S GETTING LATE" Finally he looks, dead in his eyes, at the older of us "you get some breakfast ready for your brothers and GET OUTTA HERE"
We get the instructions right away, it's only a matter of two minutes when Tommy has pants on, Wilbur is on with breakfast and I'm picking a good comfortable shirt I can use today.
I know Phil loves us, I can see it when he laughs, when he goes on little trips with us, but right now... I really feel bad for him. It is true that he has to handle the single dad madness everyday of the week at any time, and I have to be honest, I know we're not easy to handle. He usually gets on with it, and we appreciate his efforts. Yet, these past weeks have been different, that's why I feel sorry for him.
Phil's a great writer, a couple of Pulitzer awards and he was gaining money like crazy. The demand it's just too much. He blew up very quickly, outselling his novels like no other has before, he's been doing interviews, public events answering questions about his books and giving autographs to his fans. He sounds pretty busy, doesn't he? Now add the fact that he told me he was trying to get a new book published by the end of the month. The premiere of his new work is in three weeks tops, but writing a whole new book is a lot of work for a man, so it's reasonable he's overwhelmed lately. He loves us, but I think he's getting even more stressed with our sh*t than he usually does.
I have breakfast with them before everyone departs to their own destiny. There's a car waiting outside for Tommy to take him to school. I see this guy Tubbo in it too, he lives near here so they are picked up together. I know Tubbo from a very early age, he's the son of one of the editorial bosses that publishes my father's work named Jschlatt. They're wealthy, very wealthy, so it's not a surprise Phil made an alliance with them to get his writings into the public. We also have money, I mean, like I said , Philza's talent has brought a lot to us, thanks to it we have a very privileged life.
I don't plan on living out of my father's money the rest of my life, maybe Wilbur does, but then again, my vision of life is completely different. I've worked my whole life to be one of the best in everything. I've given up my social life, my supposedly "friends" and interaction directly with teachers and classmates so that I could concentrate completely on my studies. I sit in front of the laptop on the desk beside my bed. I'm ready for class. This is the safe way to guarantee I will not get distracted with absolutely anything that makes me even doubt my dream of going to a prestigious university. I only go out of the house to go to the library almost daily, except for weekends of course.
The house is so much calmer after those two leave the place. I still have five minutes left. I look at the window that faces the city, I wonder what every tiny insignificant person would be doing. Probably all of them have dreams, but they do not have excellence or discipline. Of course I would like to be relaxed and laid back like them, but I can't afford that. Phil always says he's proud of me, but that I should take some time for myself too.
"the library my personal time Phil"
"Son... you know I mean other things"
"It's okay Phil, I want this" And just like that, he respects my decision.
I have no time for friends, no time for adventures, no time for romance.
Oh romance! one of the purposes of human nature, and still, such a waste of time. I think some part of me longs for that feeling, for the excitement, the butterflies, the wrong things that you don't want to ever stop doing. But I don't have time, plus, you can't really miss what you haven't experienced.
"It's starting," I smile.
Maybe I will go to the library today.
Maybe today is going to be different.
