It was a beautiful day, and Arin Sexbang was sitting in the kitchen, having a bowl of boring ass cereal for breakfast.

But he was smiling and sighing hopefully.

And that's because he was texting with his crush: Rebecca Johnson, but everyone called her Becky.

Or Beck.

One time he told her Beck was the name of a really cool band she should check out.

Their best album is maybe Colors or Morning Phase.

Guero and Odelay were really good, too…

Anyway, band name's Beck, but not to be confused with Jeff Beck, a really cool guitar player/band.

Their best albums were Wired and Beck-ola.

She should check them out too.

If she wanted.

No big deal if she didn't, anyway.

And then he shut up and felt like a complete idiot.

Anyway, they'd been texting the usual, non-flirty stuff, they always texted about, but Arin was ok with that:

"Good morning"

"Hi!"

"How are you?"

"Fine (happy emoji)"

"U?"

"Fine (happy emoji, thumbs up emoji)"

"Tired cause of math homework"

"(laughing with tears on its face emoji, crying emoji)"

"Didnt do it (laughing emoji with a big sweat drop on its forehead, happy emoji upside down)"

"Dont worry (cool emoji with sunglasses)"

"I'll let you copy mine (wink emoji, happy emoji with glasses, one hundred emoji)"

"Thnx (hands pointing up emoji with some like beams or something, winking and kissing emoji)"

Arin was staring at that last emoji, grinning and blushing unconsciously.

He couldn't be happier.

But, as his 16 years had taught him, those moments of extreme happiness never lasted long.

And this was going to be no exception because, at that moment, the kitchen's passage door opened loudly.

There, in front of him, was his dad, the legendary Danny Sexbang. He had sunglasses and was wearing a light-blue silk robe with a red star on his chest.

And he had his blue bass hanging from his neck, all the way down to his crotch.

Like usual.

"So…" Danny Sexbang took off his sunglasses and shook his head lightly. His long, curly and magnificent as fuck hair swayed sideways. "You simpin', bro?"

"What?! No!" Exclaimed Arin, but he was blushing enough to give himself away.

"You sure?" Danny asked with a sly grin. "Who dat? She thicc?" He approached his son and tried to look his phone, but he hid it in his pocket.

"Dad! Stop it!"

You may think Arin couldn't be more embarrassed, but he could.

And he would.

"Come on," Danny didn't know when to quit. "She thicc? She dummy thicc? She make that booty clap?"

Told ya.

"And I mean T-H-I-C-C," Danny clarified. "'Cause calling someone thick, like T-H-I-C-K sounds like that person's really strong or something. Like thick as a brick." Danny stared at his son and kept silent like he was waiting for something.

"What?" Arin asked.

"And that's your daily progressive rock reference, brought you by Jethro Tull," Danny said like that wasn't weird at all. "Anyway, why don't you invite her to come over, so you can take her to your room and then cum all over her. Ok, sorry. Sorry. I'm so sorry. Sounded better in my mind." And he laughed nervously and sighed.

Arin wondered how that would sound better in someone's mind, but it was be pointless, so he pretended nothing happened and started eating his boring-ass cereal.

It was soggy as fuck.

But he ate it anyway.

Meanwhile his dad, slightly embarrassed and without knowing what else to say or to do, decided to play the bass line of 'Tom Sawyer' by Rush.

"Cool song," Arin said.

"Bet your ass it is," Danny replied. "Anyway, there's a NSP concert on march, so I gotta practice," NSP is Danny Sexbang's band. NSP stands for Ninja Sex Party, but the band decided to go with NSP for two main reasons:

1. They discovered a lot of people—especially parents—couldn't handle a band with the word "party" on its name;

2. There was a porn site with the same name, and it could be very, VERY litigious.

"But you don't play bass anymore," said Arin. He knew that would make Danny slightly and unreasonably mad, but he wanted revenge for all the embarrassment he gave him a minute ago.

Danny stared at Arin. He was slightly, unreasonably and expectedly mad.

"You think is easy to play bass and sing at the same time?" He asked. "No, it's hard as fuck."

"Geddy Lee can," Arin said just to make his dad even angrier. "And he also plays keyboards sometimes."

"Well, that's because Geddy Lee is a national treasure!" Danny exclaimed. "He's Canada's best, alongside Alex Lifeson and Neil Peart, duh. But also Jim Carrey, Grimes and Robin Scherbatsky!"

"What about Nickeback," said Arin with a sly grin.

And his dad glared at him with bloodshot red eyes.

"I HAVE NO SON!" Dan yelled, left the kitchen and pushed the door as hard as he could in order to slam it, but it was a passage door, so it only swayed sideways violently until it stopped.

Arin sighed with a smile on his face, and then checked his phone.

No new messages.

That really was a shame, but he could hang out with Beck at school.

When she wasn't surrounded with all her super-popular friends.

Or those super-popular jocks.

Or her not-so-popular-but-still-popular friends.

Or her boyfriend Jim.

Or anyone else, really.

So he kept eating his last spoonfuls of boring-ass cereal.

And heard his parents arguing outside the kitchen.

"Why are you yelling this early?!" Arin's mom, Ashley Sexbang, asked. "And what are you doing with that thing?!" Ashley was probably referring to Danny's blue bass. She really, really hated it. "I've told you to leave it on your studio; you're gonna hit someone with that!"

"I just wanted to be cool in front of Arin!" Danny replied. "But he said Nickelback was a national treasure! WTF?! If he had said Avril Lavigne, rest her soul in peace, it would have been fine, but Nickelback?! Come on!"

"Honey," Ashley said tenderly, "he's just messing with you."

"Well, I hope so, 'cause if he really thinks Nickelback is a national treasure, then it's official: I totally failed as a parent."

"Oh, honey," Ashley said tenderly again, "don't let that get in your head. And also Avril Lavigne's not dead. Get your shit together."

"Of course she is!" Danny exclaimed way louder and more outraged than he should. "Or you really think the real Avril Lavigne would sing 'Kawai-i, Hello Kitty?'"

Ashley sighed.

"Shut the fuck up," she said, and they laughed, and then they started making out loudly.

Like really, really loudly.

And, obviously, Arin didn't want to hear that shit, but he also didn't want to get out the kitchen and find them kissing and touchling each other.

So he stayed where he was, took out his phone and his earpods and started listening to some music.

He chose the album Pet Sounds by The Beach Boys.

Then he finished up his soggy-as-fuck cereal and waited for a new Beck message.

But that never came.