Breaking a Promise
Chapter 6
Kohari: YAY! You guys made it up to twenty-five reviews! And thank you, DarkWolf88 for pointing this out to me. I probably wouldn't've checked until, like next week or something. You guys are the greatest! Cookies to all my reviewers (fresh out the cyber oven!). Anyway, this chapter is pretty much Tyson just looking at himself from another's point of view. Ya know, checking his flaws, and focusing on improvement. Here goes!
Chapter 6 (I said it again!)!
Nighttime was hard for Tyson. For some reason he just couldn't sleep. He crept downstairs and took a peep into the dojo. Ray and Max were sleeping peacefully. 'Like babies,' Tyson thought to himself, trying to repress a smile. They had noticed the animosity between their team's two best bladers, and had been really worried about them. And Hilary. But even so, they had no idea what was going on. Not completely, anyway. 'They probably have the gist of it, though.'
When he snuck back up to his room, he stopped for a moment by his grandfather's room, just to see how he had taken the whole situation, the whole city having heard the argument, more than likely. The bedroom was empty. 'Shoulda known,' Tyson chastised himself and went down to the kitchen to look for him in there. Sure enough, the old man was sitting quietly, with his back to the blue-haired blader, and sipping a cup of something. Though he didn't want to disturb him, Tyson walked in as though he had just gotten there and sat down in front of the still-going-strong geezer.
"Oh, hey there, little dude. Didn't know you were up so late," Grandpa greeted the boy, hiding the fact that he was tired himself.
"Hey, Grandpa," Tyson responded, and silence followed. He broke the silence by asking, "Grandpa, what was Grandma like? And Mom?"
This question seemed to surprise the old man. But his face softened as he thought about the women. "They were quite a bit like Hilary, little dude."
"Really?" Tyson was shocked by this answer.
"Yeah. Hard to believe isn't it? They were control-freaks, but they stood up for what they believed in, and they were something loyal, I'll tell ya that." Tyson listened carefully. "They had great personalities, though, I'll give them that much. Who wouldn't love a girl with brains and beauty wrapped up in one package? Hard not to, sometimes, eh, Tyson?"
"How did you and Dad get them to love you?" Tyson asked, being serious, for once, which astonished the dojo-master.
"Well," Grandpa said, thinking. "The one way to get a woman is to respect them. Sure, they like men that got money and fame, but the one pet-peeve they all have in common is that they hate being treated like toys. Ya dig?" Tyson nodded. Grandpa continued, "They hate thinking they're nothing. They hate being told it even more. They like being important to someone. They act like they love being one of the fifteen thousand Barbies of a celebrity, but what they really want, and you gotta understand it, is to be truly loved. To be the one and only of the man they love. And believe me, it ain't always a hard-sought-after rich boy with fame."
Now Tyson understood. "So all you did was show her some respect?"
"Mm-hm. Ya know, you're a lot like your dad when he was a young-in. I was that way, too, at your age. Funny, ain't it? You'll grow up in time, Tyson. But whatever you do, ain't no woman worth changing completely for. God gave you your personality. You can tweak it, but that's the way you should keep it." Tyson smiled at that. He slowly got up and went to his room, pausing at the kitchen doorway.
"Thanks, Gramps," he said before climbing the stairs.
"No prob, little dude," Grandpa whispered, knowing that the boy couldn't hear him anyway. He didn't know whether to be sad that his son's boy was growing up too fast for him, or to be happy for him that he was. 'Tis the curse of the grandparent, I suppose,' Grandpa reasoned to himself.
Back in Tyson's room, the owner was sitting on the edge of his bed, clutching a pillow. Maybe he did change. His mind drifted to all those looks people gave him when he acted conceited, which was pretty much all the time. The sighs that followed as he did his stupid dances. The shaking of heads when he started acting like a know-it-all to young bladers, saying they'd never beat him, and the children still laughed and loved him. Maybe it was time he started acting a little less selfish.
He got up and looked into the mirror that was on his dresser. Maybe it was time he saw himself from others' point of view. He thought back on the times he had insulted people, assumed he was the best, when he had, it must be confessed, lost a battle himself. He wasn't invincible. And he was just stupid enough to think he was. And act it. He wondered how his teammates must feel. How they acted and what the results were.
Max. He was always nice to everyone. He gave second chances to everyone. He had friends galore. He was special. He was sweet and sensitive. And many thought he was good-looking to boot. And so, every time he couldn't muster up a smile when things went wrong, there was a trail of frowns too.
Ray. He was polite no matter what. Wise, and gave advice when needed. He never went around telling people they were no good like he did. Sure, he could be a tough critic, but it was for the good of the blader, and not just for the heck of it, and because he was on the same team as the world champ.
Kai. He didn't say much, and he could be a tough critic as well. Even more so. But, he was rich and had always provided them with everything they had needed. And he had always been there for them, no matter what. The ony exception to that was before their team had been started, and that time in Russia when he had turned on them. But then, he had been bribed.
And he, Tyson, was nothing like them. He had seen plenty of times when people told them they hated him. He had seen chat-rooms where people talked about him, calling him a pig and conceited, not knowing he was seeing all their comments. It was true. He did need to change. Starting with respect. He had always thought the world revolved around him. That everyone would bow down to him if he gave the word. No. He had been wrong. From now on, things would be different. He would give a little more, and take nothing. He would respect.
And he would start with Hilary. She deserved it more than anyone. She had always been there to help. Even when Tyson had yelled at her, ripped her training schedule in half, and all the other mean things he had done. She was constantly their cheerleader, standing up for them, and rooting for their side, no matter what problem arose. Maybe that was what attracted him to her.
Maybe she'd give him a second chance if he proved he could change. And he would. 'Please, Hilary,' he prayed as he lay down to go to bed at last. 'One more chance. That's all I'm asking...my princess...' And with that, he fell asleep.
Kohari: Okay. I know. Very lame. Don't bite my head off about it. Anyway, review for me, and tell me what you think. I know I said don't bite my head off, but I guess flames are welcome. If I get 35 reviews (I know I'm asking a lot, but hey...), I'll continue. And remember to tell me what you want to happen. After all, this is your entertainment. It's not about what I think. I just write it. Anyway, Byes!
Chapter 6
Kohari: YAY! You guys made it up to twenty-five reviews! And thank you, DarkWolf88 for pointing this out to me. I probably wouldn't've checked until, like next week or something. You guys are the greatest! Cookies to all my reviewers (fresh out the cyber oven!). Anyway, this chapter is pretty much Tyson just looking at himself from another's point of view. Ya know, checking his flaws, and focusing on improvement. Here goes!
Chapter 6 (I said it again!)!
Nighttime was hard for Tyson. For some reason he just couldn't sleep. He crept downstairs and took a peep into the dojo. Ray and Max were sleeping peacefully. 'Like babies,' Tyson thought to himself, trying to repress a smile. They had noticed the animosity between their team's two best bladers, and had been really worried about them. And Hilary. But even so, they had no idea what was going on. Not completely, anyway. 'They probably have the gist of it, though.'
When he snuck back up to his room, he stopped for a moment by his grandfather's room, just to see how he had taken the whole situation, the whole city having heard the argument, more than likely. The bedroom was empty. 'Shoulda known,' Tyson chastised himself and went down to the kitchen to look for him in there. Sure enough, the old man was sitting quietly, with his back to the blue-haired blader, and sipping a cup of something. Though he didn't want to disturb him, Tyson walked in as though he had just gotten there and sat down in front of the still-going-strong geezer.
"Oh, hey there, little dude. Didn't know you were up so late," Grandpa greeted the boy, hiding the fact that he was tired himself.
"Hey, Grandpa," Tyson responded, and silence followed. He broke the silence by asking, "Grandpa, what was Grandma like? And Mom?"
This question seemed to surprise the old man. But his face softened as he thought about the women. "They were quite a bit like Hilary, little dude."
"Really?" Tyson was shocked by this answer.
"Yeah. Hard to believe isn't it? They were control-freaks, but they stood up for what they believed in, and they were something loyal, I'll tell ya that." Tyson listened carefully. "They had great personalities, though, I'll give them that much. Who wouldn't love a girl with brains and beauty wrapped up in one package? Hard not to, sometimes, eh, Tyson?"
"How did you and Dad get them to love you?" Tyson asked, being serious, for once, which astonished the dojo-master.
"Well," Grandpa said, thinking. "The one way to get a woman is to respect them. Sure, they like men that got money and fame, but the one pet-peeve they all have in common is that they hate being treated like toys. Ya dig?" Tyson nodded. Grandpa continued, "They hate thinking they're nothing. They hate being told it even more. They like being important to someone. They act like they love being one of the fifteen thousand Barbies of a celebrity, but what they really want, and you gotta understand it, is to be truly loved. To be the one and only of the man they love. And believe me, it ain't always a hard-sought-after rich boy with fame."
Now Tyson understood. "So all you did was show her some respect?"
"Mm-hm. Ya know, you're a lot like your dad when he was a young-in. I was that way, too, at your age. Funny, ain't it? You'll grow up in time, Tyson. But whatever you do, ain't no woman worth changing completely for. God gave you your personality. You can tweak it, but that's the way you should keep it." Tyson smiled at that. He slowly got up and went to his room, pausing at the kitchen doorway.
"Thanks, Gramps," he said before climbing the stairs.
"No prob, little dude," Grandpa whispered, knowing that the boy couldn't hear him anyway. He didn't know whether to be sad that his son's boy was growing up too fast for him, or to be happy for him that he was. 'Tis the curse of the grandparent, I suppose,' Grandpa reasoned to himself.
Back in Tyson's room, the owner was sitting on the edge of his bed, clutching a pillow. Maybe he did change. His mind drifted to all those looks people gave him when he acted conceited, which was pretty much all the time. The sighs that followed as he did his stupid dances. The shaking of heads when he started acting like a know-it-all to young bladers, saying they'd never beat him, and the children still laughed and loved him. Maybe it was time he started acting a little less selfish.
He got up and looked into the mirror that was on his dresser. Maybe it was time he saw himself from others' point of view. He thought back on the times he had insulted people, assumed he was the best, when he had, it must be confessed, lost a battle himself. He wasn't invincible. And he was just stupid enough to think he was. And act it. He wondered how his teammates must feel. How they acted and what the results were.
Max. He was always nice to everyone. He gave second chances to everyone. He had friends galore. He was special. He was sweet and sensitive. And many thought he was good-looking to boot. And so, every time he couldn't muster up a smile when things went wrong, there was a trail of frowns too.
Ray. He was polite no matter what. Wise, and gave advice when needed. He never went around telling people they were no good like he did. Sure, he could be a tough critic, but it was for the good of the blader, and not just for the heck of it, and because he was on the same team as the world champ.
Kai. He didn't say much, and he could be a tough critic as well. Even more so. But, he was rich and had always provided them with everything they had needed. And he had always been there for them, no matter what. The ony exception to that was before their team had been started, and that time in Russia when he had turned on them. But then, he had been bribed.
And he, Tyson, was nothing like them. He had seen plenty of times when people told them they hated him. He had seen chat-rooms where people talked about him, calling him a pig and conceited, not knowing he was seeing all their comments. It was true. He did need to change. Starting with respect. He had always thought the world revolved around him. That everyone would bow down to him if he gave the word. No. He had been wrong. From now on, things would be different. He would give a little more, and take nothing. He would respect.
And he would start with Hilary. She deserved it more than anyone. She had always been there to help. Even when Tyson had yelled at her, ripped her training schedule in half, and all the other mean things he had done. She was constantly their cheerleader, standing up for them, and rooting for their side, no matter what problem arose. Maybe that was what attracted him to her.
Maybe she'd give him a second chance if he proved he could change. And he would. 'Please, Hilary,' he prayed as he lay down to go to bed at last. 'One more chance. That's all I'm asking...my princess...' And with that, he fell asleep.
Kohari: Okay. I know. Very lame. Don't bite my head off about it. Anyway, review for me, and tell me what you think. I know I said don't bite my head off, but I guess flames are welcome. If I get 35 reviews (I know I'm asking a lot, but hey...), I'll continue. And remember to tell me what you want to happen. After all, this is your entertainment. It's not about what I think. I just write it. Anyway, Byes!
