Title: Powerful Thing
Genre: Romance, self-discovery
Rating: PG-13
Length: several chapters (unfinished)
Summary: Tommy’s life was perfect. He was popular, beautiful, smart, rich and well, perfect. It was this perfection that made the first day of his senior year so miserable. If he had known it would have to get much worse before it ever hinted at getting better he would have gone back to bed until the next year. But he wasn’t privy to this knowledge when he woke at six o’clock on September second. Instead, he was under the delusion that this year was going to be as perfect as the rest of his life. And he was ready to face it full on.
Poor Tommy.
Warnings: I will update when they become apparent. Probably mild swearing, discussion at violence (both other and self directed), theological discussions, although this is not the purpose of the story.
To say Thomas Andrews was a virtuous, stuck up brat was something of an understatement, but it wasn’t really his fault. He was just raised that way. It didn’t help that he was sent away to St. Joseph’s Christian Academy each year. It didn’t help that all his friends were wealthy. It didn’t help that he lived in his excluded estate just north of Richmond Hill. It didn’t even help that he was going to inherit his late grandfather’s assets on his next birthday, which just happened to be the following April.
In fact, everything in Tommy’s life was perfect. Except – Well, there was this one thing that nagged at the back of his mind, refusing to revel itself. Most days Tommy was successful in ignoring it but every now and then it would resurface making him feel less than perfect. He hated that feeling. It made him doubt the perfection of his life. That would never do.
And it wasn’t as if his life was totally perfect. He did have the misfortune of being the middle child. That was only compounded by the fact that both his other siblings were girls and more perfect. They took every opportunity to let him know how much more perfect they were than he was himself.
The only other things that bothered him were those blasted freckles. They were dusted so lightly across his nose that hardly anyone noticed them anymore. When he was younger they were quite noticeable, and he was lucky they had faded but he still hated them. Whenever he was in front of a mirror, he found himself hating them even more. In his opinion they ruined the rest of his features, which he quite admired.
Yes, Tommy was also quite conceited. And who wouldn’t be, having grown up with his life? He was charming in appearance, not the most beautiful person in Canada, but well above the unfortunate-looking population. His blond hair settled around his head, just untidy enough to look casual, but never messy. His blue eyes were like sapphires set into his creamy skin, which never so much as had one blemish, aside from the freckles. His eyebrows, golden arches framing the jewel eyes, were even flawless.
It wasn’t just his physical characteristics that lent themselves to perfection. Tommy was very clever at school, and even cleverer when it came to convincing people. He could convince people they wanted to be his friend, he could convince people they didn’t want to punish him, and he could even convince people he wasn’t being convincing and that their actions were completely uninfluenced by him. He rarely got in trouble at school. He rarely encountered someone who didn’t like him. He rarely found himself in a situation of which he knew no way out of.
He knew when to smile, when to look solemn. His voice was smooth and he could arrange his face into any emotion in the blink of an eye. Tommy would have made an excellent con artist; except he had been raised by very Fundamentally Christian parents and anything clearly stated as unethical was completely out of the question. Of course, that left a lot of pastimes up for interpretation and he was also good at interpreting things his way.
It was the perfect direction of his life that made the first day of his senior year so miserable. If he had known it would have to get much worse before it ever hinted at getting better he would have gone back to bed until the next year. But he wasn’t privy to this knowledge when he woke at six o’clock on September second. Instead, he was under the delusion that this year was going to be as perfect as the rest of his life. And he was ready to face it full on.
Poor Tommy.
