This is written for the Game of LIFE fanfiction challenge at Shadowplay, so if I missed a formatting code please kindly let me know. Thanks!
He thinks the expression 'All in a good day's work' is meant to bring some relief after hours and hours of labor—but what they had on their hands today was just ridiculous. It was a stressful period when a storm hit the sea. However, what really wore them out are the days after it had abated. They had to fix everything that the nasty weather has broken.
After making sure that the engines hadn't been terribly waterlogged (it'd be a shame if the boat falls apart right after they leave Port-Vila), he ascends to the deck and decides to sit on one of the surviving pool lounge chairs. He knows Antonin will say something about him taking a break, but he doesn't care. Let that sniveling chef-wannabe wear himself out.
He stretches out on the chair and looks out into the Pacific ocean. Even after months of being out here, he still enjoys the soft rocking of the boat brought about by peaceful winds. He's learned that the ocean smells the greatest after a storm. It's so clean and fresh, like a brand new start.
A brand new start.
He wonders briefly the likelihood of them finding him.
"Great minds think alike." Looking up, he sees Aeron, his long, white and gray hair framing the sunglasses and the smile on his face. "Mind if I sit down next to ya?"
"No. Go ahead," he says, unconsciously scooting a little to give his new companion more room.
Aeron grunts a little as stiff joints slows down his sitting. He chuckles. "I'll tell you what, sitting would be great if it too doesn't feel like a chore all the time," he says. When the younger man grins at his comment, he asks, "How are you doing today? The boat's a lot of work, ain't she?"
"Yes, but it's all right. Everything looks like they're pretty good to go," he says. "I'm just a bit worried that the engine will fall out once we're en route."
"Eh, I wouldn't worry too much about it." Aeron grins at his engineer. "That's why we have life jackets, ain't it? Plus, that would be an added adventure!"
"Only you would be excited about getting stranded out on sea where sharks can feast on us."
"Well, sharks gotta eat too, don't they?" He stretches with a grin, saying, "It's all just part of being a man of the ocean, my boy. We benefit from the creatures of the sea, the creatures of the sea benefit from us. It's all just a part of it."
He frowns. Aeron has always been one of those cool older people, but he has times when he's also weird.
He leans back on his chair for a moment and closes his eyes. He wants to sleep. Sleep long and hard for days until all the tiredness from the last few days' work leaves him. But as it is, they only have until 8 AM tomorrow before they leave Vanuatu.
"I know I always ask you this, Greg, but what do you think of this? Sailing around the world?" Aeron asks. "Is it still for you?"
He opens his eyes. Right. Greg. He responds to that now. The past few months, actually. "Yeah," he answers their captain. "I'm...happy out here, on the sea. Although why you insist on calling me the engineer of this ship, I don't know. I still have to Google and YouTube a lot of things."
The boat captain laughs. "Well, it's because you show great potential in it," he says. "You've always been the smartest kid I have on deck. You're quick to think on your feet, and you learn fast. You may not be a qualified, licensed engineer for now, but you will be one day."
He smiles. "Thanks."
"Yeah."
"You're not just saying that because you get free labor from us, right?"
"With how much I spend feeding you children and even buying you the things you need, I don't think it qualifies much for free."
He thinks about it and shrugs. I guess he's right.
"Greg?"
"Aye, captain."
"Did you...Are you here because you're running away from something?"
He pretends to be unaffected by the question even if inside he's frozen solid. He knows the answer to that. He also knows that one day he will need to come clean. He just doesn't know if this is the time yet.
He doesn't know if he's ready.
"Why? Did you see something about me?"
"No. But I know when a kid is running from something. Actually, almost every one of you that I have here as my trainees are running away from something. I just don't know the scope of each, if it's just a personal thing or it's something bigger and life-threatening."
"Mine's not life-threatening," he says.
"Don't feel that I'm forcing you to speak about something you don't want to," Aeron says. "You're grown, all of you. All in your 20s and probably in the best decade of your lives. You're also at that point in life when you call your own shots. I'm not here to take that away from you."
"I know." He sees the golden flecks playing on the ocean waves. He decides that it may just be time to open the door just a little more. "I left because I can't stand being around my family anymore."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah. I just can't take it. I can't take their expectations. They want me to do this and that, they want me to accept how things are, to act a certain way. I couldn't take it, so I left."
"Hm. I take it that you come from money."
He looks at the captain and gauges from his expression how much about him he actually knows. Reading nothing alarming, he answers, "It's my stepdad's money."
Aeron nods thoughtfully and resumes his sightseeing of the ocean.
"You really don't know who I am?"
"You told me your name was Greg Walters."
"Yes. It is," he says, relieved yet also disappointed. "That's my name."
"So, if you don't mind me pushing a bit, were your parents pushing you to handle the family business? Inherit the throne, so to say?"
He scoffs. "I wish." The smile on his face dies. "Actually, the sad thing about it is that the expectation I talked about is that they expect nothing from me. They wanted me to be okay of being nothing, of being lost in the mix. You know, the kid who they knew won't amount to anything? They wanted me to be okay with it. Eventually I just realized that I wasn't okay with that."
"You mentioned a stepdad."
"Mm."
"So what about your mom?"
He takes a deep breath. "My mom?" he says. "Out of everyone I am the angriest with her. She had a kid with my stepdad, and after she was born her whole world revolved around her. It's like she forgot about me."
"Well—"
"I know what you're going to say. I'm an adult. What right do I have getting upset and jealous over a baby? But she's still my mom, and she was the only ally I had left in our new family. She still left me."
Aeron smiles. "I was going to say that feeling forgotten is not a good feeling at all," he says. "I had an older brother, and he was our mother's favorite. It was an awful feeling, that. Not being the favorite."
"You weren't the favorite either?"
"No. No, I wasn't."
"Oh." He sits up and faces Aeron more fully. "So, what did you do?"
"Well I – I eventually moved out of the house, just like my older brother did, got involved in an honorable something I had been very curious about since I was younger, traveled, and eventually bought this boat." Aeron grins at him. "Now I'm training children with potential."
"So that helped, huh. Going out and doing what you've wanted to do."
"Doing the things I have done definitely built my confidence a bit more," Aeron replies, "but as far as the hurt that comes from knowing that Asher was my mother's favorite until the end has never left. I pretty much just buried it deep."
He says nothing. However, his mind hums a little with the idea that perhaps that is the same road his life is heading: living out there on his own and filling his days with things that will bury any memory or feelings he once had for his family. "You're not gonna look me up or anything, are you?" he asks. "You took a picture two days ago of our crew. You're not gonna do a reverse search on Google to find out who I am, are you?"
Aeron scoffs. "No, especially because I don't care to find out what a reverse search is."
"Good. The last thing I want is finding my parents waiting for me at our next stop."
"Turn you in and what, lose my unlicensed engineer? No, thank you!" Aeron says. At that, his crew member smiles then chuckles. Aeron grins – but it wanes down soon after. "But seriously, is that what you want for now? To stay as Greg Walters?"
"I like being Greg. Greg is just a normal guy who gets to see the world and be with a few friends and who might actually become something one day."
"You will become something one day, Greg," Aeron assures. "Maybe even one of the best of somethings that has ever been a something in this planet."
He smiles. "Thanks."
Aeron nods. After a moment, he takes a deep breath and claps his hands together. "Well, I will leave you here to relax a moment. Roman is supposed to be coming aboard to check your work for our journey tomorrow."
"Oh. In that case, I should be going with you—"
"No, no," Aeron insists, holding a hand out to stop him from getting up. "Really, all he has to do is look. I'm positive that you've taken care of everything that needed to be taken care of."
He narrows his eyes. "Too much positivity can leave us stranded out at sea."
"Like I said, the sharks need to eat, too." At that, the captain leaves, descending back down to the hull.
He debates whether to follow Aeron or stay as he said. Soon, though, he finds that he still has not enough energy to get up.
So staying put it is.
Once again, he lounges back on his chair and stares out the sea. He wonders briefly if his family is still looking for him or if they've tired of the search already. He got rid of everything that they can use to track him down at his layover in Singapore more than a year ago—his cell phone, IDs, credit and debit cards, and even the fitness watch that Adam gave him two years ago as an apology gift.
All he had left were a few change of clothes, some cash he had been saving for this, and a cyber mask that made him—the real him—impossible to be found.
Maybe they've been replaying the last sighting of him at the airport over and over again. Or, maybe, they've decided to wave his running away as one of his half-baked exhibitions, one that he's only doing because he's desperate for attention.
You will become something one day, Greg. Maybe even one of the best of somethings that has ever been a something in this planet.
He takes in a lungful of clean air, closes his eyes, and lays his head against the back of the lounge chair. He thinks of the bright stars at night and the calming hue of the skies that wakes him up many mornings.
Greg Walters' only family now is the crew of this boat. Greg Walters' home is this ship and all the seven seas. Greg Walters has no need to worry about what other people say because besides Antonin Foucault, who has nothing nice to say anyway about almost everybody onboard, the remaining eight crew members are all nice and friendly to him.
True, Greg Walters is only a lie, but he likes him much better. He's considered to have potential and is rarely lonely.
Unlike Leo Dooley, whose usefulness to the rich and famous world had ran out a long time ago and whose life sadly yet fittingly ended at a trash can in some strange city.
He doesn't need him, he thinks. And he doesn't need them. He will make the best out of this new and simple life he has in front of him and build himself a better, happier future.
. . . . .
The phone rings twice. Then, "You finally called. I'm surprised."
"Just letting you know that we're on the way to you."
"I thought you were coming tomorrow night."
"There was a storm at sea," he says. "I told you about the possibility of this."
"You did. But for a moment there I was worried thought you had changed your mind on me."
"Change my mind? When we're this close?"
"People change their minds all the time, especially when they grow a heart." She pauses then says, "Speaking of, how are the children? Are they still in good condition?"
"Stellar. A little shaken because of the incident we had, but they're all healthy."
"Good. What about the little shock absorber?"
Shock absorber? "Greg?"
"Leo. Or Greg, if that's what the little boy prefers to be called," she says. "He hasn't caught on, has he?"
"No. It took a while, but I think he trusts me a little more now."
"Good. That kid could easily become a problem if we don't keep everything under control. He's his family's little sniffer dog when he was still with them. One wrong move, and you'll end up revealing to him our whole plan."
"Don't worry. He suspects nothing."
"When will you get here then?"
"In about six days."
"Good."
"How's the Arcturion? Is it still stable?"
"For the most part. But it can't wait for another day longer than what you've said. If I don't get those kids here before it goes off, everyone on this planet will be in trouble."
"I know. We'll be there."
As he poises to click the end call button on his communicator, she says, "Oh, and Aeron?"
"Yeah."
"Don't suddenly grow a heart," she says, a smirk audible in her words. "Remember, this will benefit you too. It will give you more power than you can ever imagine."
He smiles. If she only knew of his real plan. "I know. See you in six days, Mr. Terror." Then, he hangs up.