"Emily, is that you?"

Upon arriving at your house, you hear your dad's voice calling out your name from the living room. His voice sounds strained, so despite the tiredness from school, you put on a joyful respond, "Hey, Dad~"

Peeking from the side, strangely, you notice how the TV's off—and with him sitting on his lazyboy? This.. is definitely off. There has to be something. Moreover, you notice your mom is also there, sitting beside him.

"Oh—hi guys," you greet awkwardly—putting your bag beside the sofa.. and sit beside your mom.

"How's school, Emily~" your mom asks. Despite her attempt to appear cheerful, her eyes betray a sense of worry—even her smile seems forced. You've known her all your life. This is not her happy smile.

"It's.. the usual.." you reply hesitantly. Your mind racing with questions as you squint your eyes in suspicion, still trying to piece together the puzzle of their unusual behavior. Switching your attention to your dad, you notice how.. he's thinning?

"Dad, are you stressed?"

Mr. Winters' eyebrow raised slightly, but he immediately masked it off with his usual witty attack. "Stressed? There's nothing wrong with my handsome face—are you insulting me young lady?!"

Rolling your eyes at his predictable reaction, you try to explain, "You just.. you look like you've lost some weight.. and by some—of your—weight—I meant a.. lot.." your voice trailing off as you realize how awkward the conversation has become.

"Nah, I'm still as handsome as John McClane—" when a sudden cough interrupts him. The worst part is.. this one's different from before. This sounds more serious. Alarmed, you quickly stand up and rush to pat his back—while your mom hurriedly offers a glass of water.

"Mom, what's wrong with dad?" you demand, frustration evident in your voice. Despite your dad's alarming coughing fit, your mom remains silent.

"Come on! By now, you should've stopped keeping this—whatever this is! What. is going on?!" you add, growing increasingly irritated by their mysterious behavior. You quickly move to sit on the armrest of the lazy boy, beside your dad—worried and frustrated by his never ending cough.

Eventually, the coughing fit subsides. However, instead of addressing your questions, your dad interjects, "I just need you to listen to me—"

"Are we going to act like you didn't just—?!"

"be careful in choosing a partner, Emily—"

"oh here we go again—ok. Fine! If you want to stick to the normal routine—" you stand up, distancing yourself from your parents.

If acting normal is what they want, then so be it. But the worst thing is what they'll get from me.

"If you want me to stay like a child—you should've just framed me!"

"Em! Watch your tone!" your mom roars.

With a look of exasperation on his face, your dad snaps, "God! Your statement is exactly why you're still a child!"

"I'm so tired everytime you and Tyler start to play God in my—"

"Play God—?!"

However, John's words are cut off by another fit of coughing. Your mom rushes to the kitchen to fetch water for him—her movements frantic. Feeling awkward and unsure whether to approach, you stand still—but your mom's sudden shout from behind breaks your perplexity, "Enough! Why are you two fighting like this?!"

"Mom, tell me! Is dad sick?!"

Your hands start to tremble. Seeing your dad like this breaks another set of something in you—since your heart's already broken. "Can everyone tell me what's going on?!" your words reverberate in the room, leaving you feeling helpless. But despite your plea, they remain silent.

In the aftermath of his constant cough, frantically, your dad continues between his ragged breath, "I'm just—trying to look out for you, Em—! You're still too naive—"

"Please—" you start, but then frustration takes over as he still picks to talk about this topic and chooses to ignore your plea. "I'm not naive, Dad—! Oh. My God! For the millionth time—I don't need your protection!" you retort, voice breaking.

"You know what?! You should be grateful—to have a dad like me—!"

"Johnny Winters!" your mom stops him from saying anything further—

"Grateful?! To have a dad who's only watching the same thing over and over again?! What should I be proud of over a tacky dad?!"

"Emilia Winters!"

But it's chaos. Too late to quell the rising storm. Still stunned in his seat, your dad sits there in shock by your outburst, choking, "How dare you—"

"I hate you, dad!"

You declare, voice trembling with anger. Stunned into silence, both The Winters sit there, speechless. Your mom's hand goes to her temples, massaging the pressure points even though it's got no point—while your dad sinks back onto his lazyboy, deflated as you rush upstairs and slam your door.

"Emilia, apologize to your dad!"

On the frame of your door, your mom stands firmly on the ground, her hands placed on her waist. You're slumped on your bed, your face facing down to a pillow as you wiggle in irritation, muffling, "I'm so tired—of everything changes—in my life!"

Before in a jolt, you sit straight with the pillow still intact on your face—hands gripping on the edges. Slamming the pillow to the bed, you turn and defend yourself, "I just—I'm so tired of everything! Of—of uncertainties—of—people leaving! And for once—I want something constant that's just there. Not changing. Constant!"

Sighing in resignation, Mrs. Winters drops her hands on the sides and slowly approaches. Getting into the bed, she waits until your angry, desperate glare finds hers.. until she declares,

"But life.. is a war, Emily."

Confusion and disappointment cloud your features as you furrow your eyebrows. With patience in her voice, your mom continues, "Emily.. in this life.. you'll meet people, you'll met with circumstances, with moments.. and you'll learn. Every. single. step. of the way," her tone grows more resolute as she adds, "and you have to learn. If you don't, then what's the point of living?"

It's a harsh truth to swallow—but deep down.. you know she's right. "I understand if you're angry.. or maybe something happened in school—anything—" she pauses, before her gaze sharpens like a dagger, scolding, "but you never. take it out on anyone."

Her stern reprimand brings you back to the present, reminding you of your actions. With a heavy sigh, you relent, letting go of some of the anger that had been consuming you. Despite the turmoil raging inside you, you know that you can't stay angry forever. Guilt washes over you as you remember the disappointment in your father's eyes when you lashed out..

How everything.. took a sharp wrong turn.

"Casualty never sounds good in the first place, right?"

"I'm sorry.. I just—"

"Apologize to him yourself~" her tone carries a hint of playfulness as she speaks, and with a pout, you reluctantly nod.

Sighing, acknowledging your confusion at your age, she smiles patiently. "And yes, everything changes, because that's the essence of this life, Em," she pauses before she adds with a gentle smile, "of us, humans." Mrs. Winters says softly, her words carrying a wisdom that seems to extend beyond her years.

"We learn.. we change.. we develop."

Darting your eyes to the corner of the room, you throw yourself back onto the pillow, pouting in resignation. "Either way, what's life without a little bit of spice, right?" Janet jokes while playfully pinches your cheek, eliciting a pouting smile from you. "You're still so. young, Emily. You still have all the time in the world to figure it out."

You smile back, feeling your mother's words enveloping you like a warm blanket. Mrs. Winters extends her arms wide, inviting you to a big hug, and you immediately give in, "Sorry, mom.."

But an uncomfortable feeling also seeps through your skin in your mom's embrace.. Until you finally summon the courage to ask, once again,

"Mom.. What's wrong with dad?"

Your mom falls silent, her body going rigid. Slowly.. she pulls away and stands up from the bed. With a heavy sigh, she closes her eyes before giving you a slight nod.. and extends a hand. Silently acknowledging.. that she will reveal the secret they've been keeping from you.

"You know what? You should've seen me when I gave that Homerun back in Cali,"

Liam, being the class clown that he is, boasts to the crowd. The after-party is held at Wyatt's. Since his parents are rarely around to begin with, well—it's easier to hold parties at his extravagant home. He keeps talking.. and talking.. Animatedly recounting highlights of the game and throwing in a few exaggerated details for good measure. But not until his gaze drifts to the corner of the room..

"Oh sheesh, even Tyler couldn't pull that one off like—me.."

and his voice trails off, his smile faltering just a little. His initial cheerful demeanor shifts as he is stunned. His gaze locks into a familiar place right in front of the pillar. A girl laughed, gracefully rocking a cute white top wrapped under her brown long leather coat.

Eve.

It's automatic.

Whenever she's around, it's like his settings are made just for her. He stares at her longingly, and at some point—her gaze also finds him. For a brief moment, time seems to stand still. Initially, her eyes go wide with the unexpected encounter, not like she didn't know he'd be at this party—at his own home, duh. Eventually.. she gives him a faint smile, sadness lingering in her eyes. They exchange longing glances before finally, she retreats.. and leaves.

Wyatt's expression immediately falls. The messy loud conversations from the crowd fainting in the background. For anyone who knows him, his silence is pretty.. unnerving.

Tyler, who's been beside him all along, glances at him knowingly—offering a comforting pat on the back. "I'm gonna get you a drink," he consoles, sensing his bro's need to be alone. Turning away briefly, Tyler heads off to fetch the drink, leaving him in his moment of silence.

However, before Tyler returns with the drink—Dominic arrives, intending to console his bro after also witnessing the earlier interaction. He places a comforting hand on Wyatt's shoulder, saying, "Hang in there, bud," as Liam solemnly nods. Dominic lifts his head—to find Tyler, already returned with the drink.

Their eyes meet, and for a moment.. the air crackles with tension. Even Liam goes tense, glancing between the two in nervousness—when Tyler unintentionally bent the drink he brought for him.

Liam, watching his drink almost get wasted in horror, "Not my—" decides to swiftly steal the drink before any more juice spills from it. Irritated to the core, Liam rolls his eyes, about to throw a good scolding—before the scene turns into a childish banter.

"Anything on my face, Cavill?" Dominic asks, raising an eyebrow, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Yeah, arrogance." Tyler retorted, a smirk playing on his lips.

With a scoff, Dominic's lips play a smirk before he retorts, "Huh, funny. Not as arrogant as someone who wants to have it all, though," his voice laced with mockery.

Tyler flew off the handle as he scoffs—giving a signal of what's about to come. But before he could throw another high quality comment, Wyatt bumps their shoulders and storms off—leaving Tyler and Dominic in a sudden uncomfortable guilt.

They intended to approach him—but they moved at the same time! They tried to walk in a different way—but unexpectedly moved to the same place! Acknowledging the same irritation, they glare at each other—before finally releasing an infuriated scoff, and end up storming off in opposite directions.

With a plastic cup in hand, Tyler stands near the billiard table while his teammates play—laughing and joking as they take their shots. Lucy Burns joins him in a conversation—however, although he laughs along, his gaze occasionally drifts across the crowded room, as if searching for.. someone. Until suddenly, Scott's voice cuts through the chatter, calling out, "Your turn captain!"

Tyler sets down his red cup on the corner of the billiard table and rolls up the sleeves of his black jersey jacket. Luke tosses him the cue stick—and Tyler catches it smoothly, readying himself. He lines up his shot, aiming carefully, but when he strikes the cue ball—it ricochets awkwardly, causing the balls to scatter haphazardly across the table. Tyler grits his teeth in frustration—the table erupts in laughter while Luke can't help but tease him, "I knew he's only good at baseball,"

"Take that back or I'll remove you from the team, champ,"

Tyler shoots back. Luke scoffs as the others laugh and cheer with a chorus of 'Oooohs.' While turning around the table to position himself near the ball he failed to shoot, Cavill flashes a winning smirk as he finds Luke's reaction exactly like how he wants it to be.

He bends over the table, ready to adjust his shot.. when Lucy slides under his arm and grips the cue stick with him! Taken aback—not like he already got used to it by now—he retreats, while Lucy looks up at him with a mischievous smile and declares,

"I guess I'll show you how it's done, captain."

The crowd's excitement grows with more enthusiastic 'Oooohs.' But Luke and Scott exchange puzzled glances, sensing the awkwardness in Tyler's gesture. Uncertain of Lucy's intentions, Tyler scoffs inwardly. Wondering if she's flirting with him–or just simply trying to annoy him.

Despite Lucy's distracting presence, he manages a polite chuckle and responds, "Let's see what you've got then, Red." Lucy beams up at him, clearly enjoying the attention. Reluctantly, Tyler releases the cue stick to her, but midway through.. his gaze drifts to a peculiar.. yet disturbing sight just outside on the beach.

It's Dominic. Sitting on the white sand among the crowd..

Kissing some girl.

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Cecylia Costania @rcpcswrites