Being alone on a private island for a weekend is hard to do once you've been married for a good eleven years. Or at least it was easy to feel lonely when the wife was out and one spends all day by the pool. It was only healthy to tan for so long. So, after a small alarm set on his phone went off for the fifth time, the man once called Junior would get up from his chair and collect his things to go inside the mansion that nearly covered the little island in the ocean.
He was still tan, and fit, in his prime. He'd even been daring to experiment with growing some stylish facial hair as he had run of the house. He looked over himself ckarefully both in and out of the shower, changing out of his swimsuit, and changing into some clothes afterwards. He still wore tight clothes to show off the wonderful body he worked for, but with changing times the fashion had changed as well and he now paid a lot of money for jeans that already looked like someone poured bleach on them.
Another alarm went off on his phone, as it did every Friday, even if it was a summer holiday and they had no need to keep to so many timely matters. The alarm was always set for 15:35. And as if he actually used the alarm, the man once called Junior headed for the mansions massive first floor living room. Where, as if the alarm had actually still been important, a tan child with long brown hair sat in tight jeans and a dark hoodie that could swallow a body, red headphones blocked out noises as he tapped on a tablet as if he'd just spent the last half an hour decompressing from school spread out lazily on the sofa. The man once called Junior let the child pick it out when they were younger, so it was massive and purple, matching nothing in their home. The man leaned over the sofa' s back and watched over the child's shoulder, after a few moments, he made him jump by tapping his shoulder. Nearly knocked the headphones right off of him.
"That doesn't look like the homework the tutor told your mother who told me you need to do this weekend." He spoke with a somewhat accented, relaxed yet peppy tone. He scooted the tiny hands from concealing the screen as he picked it up:
In use was a drawing program, with lines and math. The man turned it a few different ways, before he started to smile.
"It's a very nice...drawing mijo." And handed the tablet back. He might've left it at that, not seeing much of a point to homework anyway. Had a growl not happened that was so like his lovely wife's, but much smaller. i
"It's not a drawing, Daaaaad." It dragged out to more of a childish whine, than when his wife growled though. "They're plans!" And he quickly tried to backtrack, having not meant to say it. "I mean- plans-...to do my homework later?"
" Tresy, I didn't think you actually planned on doing homework- are you lying to your father?" He could give a mean serious look. The child started to worm under it in seconds.
"Alright! Fine! It's an idea I had for a mass-scale Telsa rifle that should affectively be able to destroy a small country!" He blurted it out quickly as the room fell quiet. The look of great-Dadness turned blank for a few moments as Tresy watched gears turning before the man said.
"You know when I was your age we just called them death rays- wait, what do you need that for?" And the dad-look of focus and seriousness came back as the man once called Junior glanced down at his son. And the answer came out just as fast, "I really wanted this game that's not outyet and I figured since we were going to Japan next week anyway.." his eyes looked around the room as he trailed off rather than look at his father. He was probably mad, at worse Tresy would be grounded, or scolded for not doing his work, or-wait- he heard laughing. So his looked back to his father who was muffling the sound into the couch but he was laughing! It got louder as he stood up properly for a second. Tresy scowled, it wasn't really necessary. If it was a dumb idea, he could've just said so. But his tiny face changed when he saw the tears coming down his father's cheek.
"...dad?"

The man once called Junior simply reached a massive hand up to wipe them away. His laughter faded into tears so easily he barely noticed. But he tried to collect himself seeing fear and worry in those tiny brown eyes he helpped make. Finally he cleared his throat.
"Oh, mijo..." and he took a second more to wipe one last tear away. "That's amazing!" He smiled. "If you want to do it, then let's do it."
"What?" His son just stared. "But I havent even gotten past the design stage and won't mom-"
"-Your mother is out for the weekend. Besides, there's no harm in...just a little evil. Your grandfather would be so proud of you."
"...grand-papi? Why?"
"He loved being a villain. Even the stuff that made no sense, as a young man he'd drag me into all sorts of crazy things- I always hated it.." He added the last part not thinking until he saw those pretty almond eyes, and thin mouth frown. "But for you, mijo- let's go do some evil." And the tiny smile came back. Old boxes from the attic were unloaded with evil tech and books, outdated catalogues to order things by mail. The man once called Junior was happily in the center of it all in the living room, trying to teach a new generation tricks and trades to a hobby he always hated. But the boy was so excited to learn about old weapons, and an art from.
This was when the man knew he was happy just being called 'Dad'.