"Jacob! Oliver! Kathie! The dinner's ready!" Oliver's mom called all her kids from the kitchen. Oliver had just finished his schoolwork and was watching his favourite anime. He didn't bother to go for dinner or to answer his mom, who kept calling for him. After finishing another episode of his anime, he carelessly walked down and sat at the dining table, still completely engrossed in his phone.
"Oliver, I have something to say." His dad said, trying to draw his attention. "Hmm... kids, we are broke."
"What?" Kathie scrunched her face, looking confused at her father. Oliver finally put his phone down and looked at his father.
"Yes, we are bankrupt, and the only way we are surviving is from all the small savings your mom and I had for your futures, but now that even that's over, I don't think we have any other option other than telling you guys about it."
"Dad, you ain't kidding, right?" Kathie asked once again.
"No."
"I can do some part-time work." Jacob, the oldest, suggested
"But how?" Oliver asked.
"You think I cannot get any jobs?"
"No, how come we are bankrupt?"
"I had invested in something and lost all the money. I'm sorry guys!"
"It's okay, Dad. I seriously appreciate you telling us about it. I was going to move out, but I can stay longer and sell the other house. That can help with some money."
"That won't change much." His father sighed. "The only person who can help us now is Oliver."
"Me?"
"Yes, they want you to work for them."
"Wait!" Oliver chuckled in disbelief. "Why me? Why not Kathie?"
"Because she is a girl!" His mother scolded him.
"Oh, now she is a girl, okay? What about Jacob? He is older than me."
"Oliver, it's you they want for work" his father answered.
"What kind of work is this that only Oliver has to do?" Kathie questioned.
"Yes, Dad, what work is it?"
"They want him to work in their house." His dad swallowed loudly. On the contrary, Oliver just laughed loudly.
"This has to be a freaking joke! Tell me you're lying!" He said it between his laughs, but it died when he saw his parents' serious expressions. "You are so fucked in the head. I'm fucking not doing this!" He screamed at the top of his lungs before dashing up the stairs and towards his room with his phone in his hand. He didn't believe everything that had happened, especially how it was so random for them to announce such big news at a dinner table without any other conversation. The minute the door was shut, he buried himself in the bed, crying himself to sleep in sheer anger.
The next morning was spent without any conversation, with Oliver staying in his blanket the whole time. It was three in the evening when his brother entered his room with a plate full of freshly cooked pasta and a bag in his hand.
"Can you please see yourself out? I don't want to talk to anyone." Oliver blandly spoke without taking his eyes off his mobile screen even once.
"Oliver, I know you don't want to do this. I know you hate this decision, and I'm sorry you have to go through it. You don't have to if you don't want to. I can take care of it somehow. I WILL take care of it somehow. But can you just please go see them once and see what kind of work it is? Maybe you can actually do it and get Dad and us out of this mess." Jacob suggested.
"That's not going to be that easy, Jacob."
"There is nothing wrong with trying."
"Then why don't you go instead of me?" Oliver snapped at his brother, whose gaze fell to the floor. "You won't because you don't like working under someone. Right?" Oliver rolled his eyes with a snort. "Just leave me alone."
"Dad asked me to give this to you." He placed the bag in his hand beside Oliver. "It's a shirt."
"What for?"
"He wants you to wear it when you go meet them tonight."
"What? Tonight?" Oliver's voice rose.
"You guys will be leaving at five." These were Jacob's last words before he walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. Oliver threw the bag across the room as annoyance filled him.
After another hour of cursing and crying, he was exhausted and finally decided to give in and go take a shower. He took his sweet time getting ready, not giving two sh*ts about being late. He finally put on his white shirt, tucking it into his clean blue jeans. He walked down the stairs to find his father looking at him in annoyance.
"I had specifically mentioned five; it's already six. What's wrong with you?" His father asked.
"I never agreed to be ready at five. If I am going to meet them, then I go on my own time." Oliver sassed.
"Don't make this harder than it is, Oliver."
"Okay then, let's not go." Oliver turned around.
"Stop getting on my nerves and get into the car already." His father groaned.
"And you stop showing me your anger. I'm the one helping you get out of this mess, not the other way around." He received a slap across his face the second he finished his sentence.
"Mind your tongue when you are talking to me. I am your father, not your friend." With that, his father walked out of his house and into the passenger side of their car. Oliver still tried to comprehend what just happened while he walked towards his car and sat in the back seat. A tear slipped out of his eyes as the driver started the car. The journey was silent, with both the father and son not trying to have any conversation. His father was completely thrilled and excited about what was happening, smiling to himself all along, while Oliver was nervous and scared about what was waiting for him at his destination.