Chapter One
In Which Our Hero Eats His Emotions.
Derek Venturi could not sleep. Which, to those of you who know him, is something quite out of the ordinary. Now, for us everyday people, we are aware that sleep deprivation is often tied to something emotional. Like your conscience or your heart. But as Derek Venturi has never suffered from either appendage, he naturally assumed it had something to do with his stomach, like gas or hunger. Poor boy, how sadly mistaken he is. However, Derek Venturi is not completely oblivious. Derek knew he had a problem. Not a small, this-sucks-but-I-can-deal problem, but a big what-the-fuck-is-this kind of problem. In other words he was royally screwed. He was shit out of luck. But he had figured that in ignoring the problem, it would eventually go away. So four am that night or morning Derek decided to fix the problem the only way he knew how. He was going to go binge on whatever food he could find in the kitchen.
Two hours and close to fifteen hundred calories later, Derek rubbed his aching stomach and tried to ignore the empty, painful feeling located in a area rather close to his heart. He sat at the kitchen counter with his head in his hands trying to metaphorically bury his head in the sand. Eventually over eating and lack of sleep took hold and Derek pillowed his head on his arms and fell into a deep, yet troubled sleep.
This was how is step-mother Nora found him a couple hours later. She stumbled into the kitchen sleepily, anxious for the coffee that would get her through the crazy McDonald/Venturi week day morning. She let out a surprised yelp at the sight of her step-son and the mess of food surrounding him. Oh Geez, she thought as gazed around at messy and empty kitchen. Guess we're having cereal for breakfast. She turned the coffee pot on and turned to wake up Derek. She gently shook his shoulder and called his name. He mumbled something incoherent, and continued to sleep. Nora looked her step-son in confusion, unsure of what to do next. Luckily George came into the kitchen, having smelt the sweet smell of a strong pot of coffee. Nora turned to him, gesturing at his sleeping son.
"George! Wake him up!" Nora whispered loudly. George looked her blankly for a moment, still half a sleep. He then noticed the mess in the kitchen, and the sleep cleared from his eyes.
"Der-ek!" He yelled. He roughly grabbed his sons shoulders and shook him awake. Derek jerked awake in confusion, Where the hell was he and why was his face sticky? Nausea rolled around his stomach, brining into focus the copious amounts of food he had consumed last night. He swallowed heavily in order to keep the contents of his stomach where it belonged. George tapped his shoulder, and Derek gingerly turned around on the bar stool to face his angry father and concerned step-mother. He grimaced at the sight of his fathers face.
"Derek, get up and clean this mess up. NOW!" George thundered. Nora ran soothing hand down her husbands arm.
"Come on Derek, I'll help you." She put an empty container of ice cream in the garbage and began wiping down the counters. Derek slowly got of the stool and began cleaning. George looked on perplexed, stunned by his sons easy acceptance. Deciding not to question a good thing, he ambled of to collect the newspaper. Nora took the opportunity to have a little talk with the silent Derek.
"Derek do you want to tell me what this is about?" She swept her arms around the kitchen, indicating the food. Derek's gaze followed her arms and his stomach did a little dance.
"I was hungry." Nora looked at him in disbelief.
"Hungry? Derek I've seen you hungry. This is not hungry. This is what we call stress eating."
"Stress eating? Nora, do I look like the type of person that 'stress eats'?" Derek snorted and rolled his eyes. But Nora caught the look of uncertainty that flashed in his eyes a moment before his false bravado took over.
"Something is bothering you Derek. I can tell. But you don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I just think you should at least admit to yourself that you have feelings, so that you don't eat your way to a heart attack." She laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder and then began getting the cereal out for the rest of her children. Derek put the last dish in the drying rack and began to leave the room. He turned around at the last minute.
"Nora, for the record. I Derek Venturi never have these feelings that you spoke of. I'm completely feeling free. Now if you'll excuse me I have to go grab the shower before your eldest daughter." And with that he left the kitchen.