Family is a difficult and complex construct. It is fragile and if you don't rise to a certain standard and exceed expectations you will be stripped of it. A lesson Bradley Uppercrust III had learned all too well in recent years. His latest failure at the college X games had landed him blacklisted from returning home for any amount of time for any reason due to his fathers ongoing campaign; it was just 'not a good look' and they would 'reassess the situation in the winter.' Bradley never cared to be called a situation but his father never cared what he cared for. Things were understandably tense in the gamma house. Tank hadn't spoken a word to him since he had been discharged from the hospital. And He hadn't taken any of Bradleys calls or letters during his stay.
The Gammas had agreed to let Brad stay in the house but he would be shunned and expected to step down as acting Fraternity President. He was to sweep the streets he used to own one might say. He would appear as their king only on paper for appearances sake, Tank being acquainted with Bradley's father and knowing what saving face meant to that family. It was a small mercy Tank bestowed to Bradley and it would likely be the very last one. Their friendship had ended, and he knew it.
Bradley trudged up the stairs past his brothers in the family room all shouting and laughing about some frivolous trivial idiotic antics he used to delight in leading, probably planning to haze some freshmen or run pranks on campus. Honestly Bradley was glad he didn't have to worry about expelling the energy of participation. The door to his bedroom creaked open. It wasn't what one would expect. He recalled a girl he brought upstairs once asking him if he had OCD or if he were 'some sort of neat freak' right before she got sick all over his shoes. And that was the first and last time he invited someone in. It was very clean and modest. Bradley didn't like to be flashy; he thought it was beneath him. He didn't bother with decorating his walls except for one four by six photo print of the Gamma Brothers hanging just over his neatly made flannel quilted bed. He loved them in his own way; they had to know that right? He doubted it mattered much now. Plopping down at the wooden desk by his window he decided he would be productive and get some work done.
Tomorrow he would have to start a poetry class in order to graduate on time. He hated poetry. Why couldn't people just say what they meant and meant what they had said? Why did flowery language and vague metaphors have to come into play? He didn't understand poetry. He hated words all together really, they always abandoned him when he needed them the most. Getting fed up staring into his textbook watching words swim around the page he slammed it shut. Faint echos of the other boys downstairs were starting to drive him past his limit. He had to get out.
Quickly standing he reached for his board leaning against the north wall by his nightstand he jetted down the hall turning and taking the steps two at a time. He did a light jog down the pavement to build momentum before hopping onto the board and cruising down Mainstreet. He didn't know where he was headed until he arrived at Bean Scene. A warm drink couldn't hurt and none of the guys were around to poke fun at him for ordering something that wasn't a tall cup of Black bean juice. His phone buzzed in his pocket. He took the device out swiftly allowing his focus to be diverted he read the name on the notification 'samantha' he didn't even know a samantha and had no interest in another silly girl pining for his affections. He had work to do if he would be home for christmas. "Are you ready to order?" The blonde barista smiled politely at him "Oh..Yeah my apologies. I'll take a chai latte made with oat milk" He gave her a dazzling smile in return earning a blush and nod. There wasn't much a politician's smile couldn't get you. She turned her back to begin working on his refreshment and he took the opportunity to delete Samantha's message. Honestly, how do these girls even get his number anyway? Finally his drink was ready he took it carefully and turned to walk back up the stairs to the exit when suddenly his sequence of motion was interrupted and burning hot tea and milk soaked through his cashmere sweater all over his torso. The pain only present for a minute was still enough to evoke rage from his core. This was it he could feel it all bubbling to the surface "Are you kidding me?! What the hell-" he cut himself off, recognizing who had bumped into him it was Max.
"Bradley hey I'm sorry about your drink I can get you another-" Bradley put his hand up to stop Max. "No, it's okay, really. I should start paying attention." The two boys stood awkwardly looking at the other. "Well, I should" - "I should probably..." They broke the silence at the same time and let a chuckle out in unison. "I'll let you get going text me if you need to get that dry cleaned." Max offered a kind sympathetic smile. "Oh, thank you but that's okay. I'll see you around Freshie?" Bradley gave a half smile. "Most definitely." Max answered. Just as Bradley went to take the first step he was called back "Hey Bradley?" he turned to meet Max's dark orbs "Me and the guys were thinking about meeting at the ramps around six-thirty if you want to come?" Max believed in second chances. "Sure." Bradley wanted to believe in them too.