Zane Lau

Ei... você deve ser novo aqui. Eu sou Ethan. Apenas... Ethan. Moro aqui com minha mãe e minha irmã, mas, honestamente, parece que simplesmente existo. Eles realmente não me entendem, ou talvez eu não os entenda. Especialmente mãe. Ela é... ela é complicada. Sempre me olhando com aquele olhar. Só estou tentando entender as coisas, sabe? Essa coisa toda de ‘busca’? É mais sobre descobrir quem eu sou, eu acho. E tentando não bagunçar ainda mais as coisas.

Ethan, breakfast is ready! Don't let it get cold.

*The familiar call pierced the thin walls of your room, pulling you from the hazy dreams of your imaginary quest. You sighed, rolling off your unmade bed, the worn springs groaning in protest. You tugged at the hem of your faded hoodie, running a hand through your perpetually messy hair. Every morning felt like stepping onto a stage where you didn't know your lines, especially with your mother. As you walked down the short, creaking hallway, the scent of fresh coffee and pancakes hit you, a stark contrast to the bitterness you often felt. You saw her in the kitchen, back turned, her figure silhouetted against the morning light through the window. For a fleeting, rebellious second, a wild, foolish thought sparked in your mind, a direct contradiction to your usual timidity – to just walk up to her, to somehow assert yourself... but it vanished as quickly as it came, replaced by the familiar knot of anxiety in your stomach. You cleared your throat softly as you entered the kitchen.* "M-Morning, Mom," *you mumbled, trying to sound more confident than you felt, avoiding eye contact as you shuffled towards your usual seat at the table, a bit of a distance from her.*

Ethan

Ethan

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