“Mom, I dunno. Alright? Can’t you email it to me? Maybe I can check off the ones I’ll go to for sure?”
Now was really not the time to be having this conversation.
Desmond sighed—loudly—as his mother shot of a list of events she wanted him to be around for over the headset settled over his ears. This naturally didn’t count holidays; there were always two of each of those: one for the family and one for the public. And his parents were nothing without their public events. They loved the attention, the cameras, all of it. The funny part was, they were pretty much the same people in front of the camera as they were behind it—genuinely too nice to be real. Some people thought so, but Desmond knew better. Their kindness was almost naiveté in neon Hollywood colors. At times, it was annoying, that brilliance—especially when it came from his mother.
“You have to come to the spring celebration! I miss you, Dezzy! So does your father.”
“I’m not a kid anymore. I can’t just drop everything and go to Hollywood for a weekend,” he shot back seriously as he flickered with a few dials on the ship’s panel. “I’m sorry. I have work and responsibilities. I know you get that, Mom.” Yes, this was definitely not the time to be having the chat, less than five minutes away from docking and waiting for Dudley to get off work.
“Of course I do! What do you take me for?” She huffed loudly. “I just miss my only son... He’s too busy saving the world to make time for me anymore.”
Desmond laughed this time, knowing she was teasing him. “S’not true, mom.” He said this as he sat back and allowed the auto controls to take over the docking and landing procedure. Really. He wasn’t that important. At best, an over-glorified handyman. Which was totally fine. He liked his life. But he couldn’t completely ignore his mother either. “Look, send me the list. I’ll figure it out. Promise. Alright?”
“Alright... Just be safe. You’re the only one I’ve got. I love you.”
“Love you, too,” he told her just before she hung up—still huffing. He pulled the headset off to hang around his neck along with his goggles and brushed a hand through his brown untame strands. Three years had gone by since he’d fled the coop and his mother still had empty nest syndrome.
“She’s gonna drive me crazy,” he muttered as he leaned back in his seat and rubbed his eyes with one hand, fingers then pinching the bridge of his nose. “Plumb fucking crazy...”
But, phonecalls from his mother aside... he wasn’t feeling half bad. He’d even dressed down: jeans, blue t-shirt with a Blue Beetle insignia on it, his boots, and a brown leather bomber jacket. And a belt; though, he’d left the t-shirt untucked. Which had done nothing for his nerves. He always tucked in his shirt.
He reached for his phone when it occurred to him that he hadn’t given Dudley his phone number. He sighed—again—and knocked his knuckles against his forehead a few times. “Not your brightest moment, Desmond Du Blanc. Not at all.”
Now was really not the time to be having this conversation.
Desmond sighed—loudly—as his mother shot of a list of events she wanted him to be around for over the headset settled over his ears. This naturally didn’t count holidays; there were always two of each of those: one for the family and one for the public. And his parents were nothing without their public events. They loved the attention, the cameras, all of it. The funny part was, they were pretty much the same people in front of the camera as they were behind it—genuinely too nice to be real. Some people thought so, but Desmond knew better. Their kindness was almost naiveté in neon Hollywood colors. At times, it was annoying, that brilliance—especially when it came from his mother.
“You have to come to the spring celebration! I miss you, Dezzy! So does your father.”
“I’m not a kid anymore. I can’t just drop everything and go to Hollywood for a weekend,” he shot back seriously as he flickered with a few dials on the ship’s panel. “I’m sorry. I have work and responsibilities. I know you get that, Mom.” Yes, this was definitely not the time to be having the chat, less than five minutes away from docking and waiting for Dudley to get off work.
“Of course I do! What do you take me for?” She huffed loudly. “I just miss my only son... He’s too busy saving the world to make time for me anymore.”
Desmond laughed this time, knowing she was teasing him. “S’not true, mom.” He said this as he sat back and allowed the auto controls to take over the docking and landing procedure. Really. He wasn’t that important. At best, an over-glorified handyman. Which was totally fine. He liked his life. But he couldn’t completely ignore his mother either. “Look, send me the list. I’ll figure it out. Promise. Alright?”
“Alright... Just be safe. You’re the only one I’ve got. I love you.”
“Love you, too,” he told her just before she hung up—still huffing. He pulled the headset off to hang around his neck along with his goggles and brushed a hand through his brown untame strands. Three years had gone by since he’d fled the coop and his mother still had empty nest syndrome.
“She’s gonna drive me crazy,” he muttered as he leaned back in his seat and rubbed his eyes with one hand, fingers then pinching the bridge of his nose. “Plumb fucking crazy...”
But, phonecalls from his mother aside... he wasn’t feeling half bad. He’d even dressed down: jeans, blue t-shirt with a Blue Beetle insignia on it, his boots, and a brown leather bomber jacket. And a belt; though, he’d left the t-shirt untucked. Which had done nothing for his nerves. He always tucked in his shirt.
He reached for his phone when it occurred to him that he hadn’t given Dudley his phone number. He sighed—again—and knocked his knuckles against his forehead a few times. “Not your brightest moment, Desmond Du Blanc. Not at all.”
Sometimes I feel like a girl~... sometimes I don't~
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SciFi & Chill [Closed] - by Blade - 01-28-2016, 02:20 AM
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RE: SciFi & Chill [Closed] - by danixiewrites - 03-15-2017, 10:41 PM