"Jonathan!" Johnny's father yelled, "You had better be ready to walk out the door in five, young man! No exceptions!"
"There's my old man for you," John "Johnny" Shepard thought as he heaved himself out of his bed, "I don't have to leave for school for another hour, and he wants me ready in five minutes." Johnny groggily went through his pile of clothes laying adjacent to his bed, carefully sniffing each one to find a pair of jeans and shirt that had the least hint of an odor on it. Johnny's room was in shambles. His walls were covered in posters advertising and promoting everything from bands to off world cities like the Citadel and Omega.
"Omega's nothing but a hive of crime and the Citadel is buried so far down in red tape toting lobbyists that you'd turn into a lawyer trying to figure out where the nearest toilet is," Johnny's father, Douglas Shepard, would say. He had become increasingly embittered as his years of life wore on. John justified it by taking into account his father's previous record as being a highly decorated Alliance marine. He pulled on a black shirt and jeans and finished off the outfit with his prized pair of Earth made cowboy boots and matching studded leather jacket. It had taken him a year to save up enough money from his job as a farmhand to buy both of them, but it was all worth it.
The Mindoir sun hurt his eyes as the rays poured through his window. He put on his pair of sunglasses after he had done all of his bathroom needs and gathered up all of his school books. He stomped down the stairs of his house and made a quick turn to head out of his front door.
"Don't you think you had better eat something before you leave?" said Douglas from the kitchen. Johnny sighed and closed his eyes, wishing his father was a little less inquisitive this morning.
"I'll just get something at school, no big deal," called out Johnny from the foyer.
"Nonsense," replied Douglas, "I don't want you eating that produced by the hundred slop they serve at that school."
"Oh God, here we go," Johnny muttered. He walked into the dining room and took a seat at the dinner table. From his seat he could see his father toiling over a sizzling skillet of eggs.
"There were so many times I wished I could have had a proper home cooked meal in the Alliance that it almost made me want to cry," Douglas said as he sat a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast down in front of Johnny. "Any person that refuses a home cooked meal is just a damned fool." He only nodded, hoping that his father's thoughts would end up on something remotely suitable for dinner conversation.
They sat in silence as they each dug into their breakfast. Johnny looked up to see his dad looking at his breakfast over his glasses. His buttoned shirt was slightly stained with bacon grease.
"Want seconds?" asked Johnny through a mouthful of toast.
"No, I was just thinking about how the way the oil is pooling on your plate looks like the spatter off this turian I popped one time," Douglas said in a flat monotone. Johnny choked on his food.
"Dad, really?" he shouted. Douglas laughed.
"No, son, I was thinking about how you remind me so much of your mother. God rest her soul." Johnny looked up. His bright blue eyes gleamed like diamonds behind his blond hair that was pushed down over his face from the black beanie he was wearing. He was confused. He did not know how to respond to this sudden change in tone. He cleared his throat and hastily rose from his seat and pushed his breakfast away.
"I guess I should get going ," was all that he could think to say.
"I'll see you when you get home," said Douglas. Johnny looked over his shoulder to see his father sitting in his seat still. He gave an awkward smile as he finally walked out of the door.