Disclaimer: This writer does not own anything related to Geronimo Stilton (with the exception of the fan fiction and original characters). Geronimo Stilton and everything related to the franchise is the property of Elizabetta Dami, Scholastic and Atlantyca.
Please be warned that this particular chapter contains heavy usage of foul language.
That morning got to be one of the worst days for me! My alarm clock didn't seem to work the way I wanted to, and as a result, I woke up at quarter to 8! Good thing that my gut feeling does help me out, although it wasn't going far enough. And then, I got my shower, dressed up, had my breakfast and left for work. As I didn't have much time left, I got there with my car.
Before I moved on to all the worst things that I had today, I should give a proper introduction to myself. Likely because I am a gentleman at my own, or if that's something to be desired. My name is Geronimo Stilton, and I work in The Rodents' Gazette, one of the prominent and popular newspapers here in New Mouse City. While it wasn't that surprising that it might as well hold the highest daily sales, but the lack of new content surely held the newspaper back from its golden days when my father, William Shortpaws Stilton almost annihilated The Daily Rat; heck, the shares are now almost equally distributed. More on that after I finished lamenting on everything.
I work as the Chief Editor of the newspaper itself and also a journalist when you talk about me on my own. It's surely hard to tell when was my birthday, but should I ever know my actual birthdate, it has to be other than 29th of December. And judging by my looks, you might think that I am in my mid-30s, and you should be that close because I am 33, or that's what I was told based on my date I was adopted; December the 29th, 1984. I am 5 feet 10 inches and 161 pounds if anyone wanted to know me more.
But back to what I should talk about. I was almost late for work, and right at that moment, my father stood in front of me. He's in his 60s, but judging him by his cover would mean disaster. He walked to me as if he doesn't like me at all. I don't know what's going on, but he must be calling me lazy, just like every single time whenever he asks you to work like a machine or calling you a dumbass.
"Well, well, what did you get from an untrustworthy guy who sleeps like a fuckin' hog?" he asked.
I chose to not answer this time not because I was too scared, but I was defiant towards my father over my status as a puppet Chief Editor. I had been too scared to talk about it for the longest time in my life, as I loved my current job. I couldn't just let my father take it away from me, so I stay put and let him keep going with all his reasoning. But this time, I was determined that I had enough with all the things he had said. There's no way that I will turn back.
"Look like it's the same old Geronimo Stilton who is just a goddamn pussy to even say anything. Should I ever knew this earlier, your sister would be taking over the reins. And I don't think you will stand a chance at all; because you don't belong anywhere. Looks like adopting a baby doesn't look like a profitable investment after all."
"Father, look, I know I am adopted and you favor my sister for her looks and everything, but you are wrong about me. I took responsibility as a man and I had taken this newspaper to a level we are in now. And that's all I could explain. Is that enough to convince you?"
"Are you implying that I should just shut the fuck up and spend my life doing nothing at all?!"
"No, father, that never crossed my mind. In fact, you had more than enough time to play golf. And it wasn't wrong to visit here to look at the situation once in a while. But I saw you visiting this place more often than usual. Is there anything wrong with you?"
"Well? Do you want to lose your spot? Don't forget that I still have the power to take back your position!"
I don't want to do this because I love my job, but I'm afraid that I will have to defy him one day. Or if it is today.
"I am sorry, father, but maybe you should ease up a little. It won't hurt to maybe do so if you plan to live longer," I gave him an advice. Sounds anticlimactic, but I don't think to defy him with a threat will do me any good just yet. You don't simply fight fire with fire until you know how to deal with it. The next second, I realized that he's giving me a slap in the face. It was so fast as if he knew that I had planned to tell him this.
"You're lucky that I never take your position this time. Defy me again, and I swear that you will be wasting your life being a servant to me! Understand, asshole?!"
"Capiche," I replied while I bowed.
Before he left the room, he shouted at me again, "And don't expect the Daily Rat to take you either once I had myself or my favorite daughter on your seat, loser!" before slamming the door. It really hits me, despite being used to it.
From the way he sees me, I knew that he hates me a lot and he can't just wait to have my sister, Thea to take my reins. It doesn't need me a PhD in Comparative Philosophy to tell me how he wanted things to be. He always is in her favor, no matter what. He gave her things that she wanted as a child, and most of the time, she doesn't care a lot about me. Sure, at least I got what I wanted, but even then, my father always pursues me to give up my passion. He said I would have done better as a translator because I am good in French, Dutch and Italian. Still, I didn't have much animosity towards him, because I was an adopted child to him; basically, a step lower on the hierarchy than a child born on his own blood.
But I wonder, how will things change if I ever work on the Daily Rat. What I was worried about working on there was that I might be betrayed or worse, my father won't consider me his son. I loved him so much for considering me as a Stilton or at least supplementing me with basic needs, but I was worried if nothing will work out. I don't want this to happen to me.
I got back straight to work, and it's a literal wreck today. I had too many internal problems to solve, and quite a pile of letters asking me for sponsorship, requests, and even death threats come right at me. Not something that I'd say that I like as a chief editor of a newspaper even though I'm a fan of writing things to everyone. Yet that's common because I am an important person in New Mouse City. It's either they like you or they hate you; 'in between' doesn't virtually exist even though there's such thing as controversy.
Things are about to get shaky after all, until I saw a 6 feet tall, well-dressed man with a top hat by his side, as if he was a British from the Victorian era, knocking the door. His slicked back solid black hair and a very fair complexion, being a mix of Asian and European define him. The morning dress he wears at an almost daily basis with his top hat; along with the manners he practiced was very well gentlemanly that you can't tell if he is either Victorian era time traveler or just a man born under normal circumstances. And yet that man is someone who I know; whose name is Sam Rasmussen, and even though he is my friend, in the newspaper business arena, he is a different man of a certain caliber.
He is the Chief Editor of the Daily Rat, my competitor; friends outside, rivals inside.
So... I'm finally back after a long hiatus, mainly because I've been posting on my DeviantArt more often. And also that I'm using a VPN for that because... well, some really nasty problems. Anyways, I'll be back to regular weekly release until the final chapter, so.. stay tuned?