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Wake-Up Call
Topic Started: Jan 16 2018, 10:11 PM (53 Views)
TheLostBoys

May 6th, 2005

It was the end of yet another school week and as usual come Friday afternoon, the young Dean Coulter would organise his things and return home, to his family, on the Gold Coast for the weekend. From Brisbane City it was just shy of a 2 hour train ride, not that Dean minded too much. With a book to read and a pair of headphones playing in his ears Dean usually found the ride peaceful. On this particular instance however, Dean was restless and excitably agitated. School holidays were fast approaching and Dean had in his hands a flyer given to him by Sam. On said flyer was a picture of a wrestling ring, emblazoned with the Australasian Wrestling Federation logo and flanked by several members of the AWF roster. On the bottom were details for the companies tour across Australia, one day of which they would be performing in Brisbane, coincidentally during the holidays. It would be the first live wrestling show either boy would have seen and Sam assured Dean that he'd be able to scrounge together the money for his own ticket, Dean just had to worry about his end of things.

Easier said than done where the Coulter family was concerned.

"So how was school this week Anthony?" Dean's father asked as the Coulter family; mother, father, Dean and his younger brother, sat around the dinner table for the evening family meal. Anthony was Dean's first name, ad only used it in around his family and in formal occasions.

"School's going fine dad. With it near the end of term we have all our exams, but they'll be easy."

"Regardless, I still expect you to study extra hard. Don't be fooled by confidence, even the slightest slip-up could affect your grades. So no hacking around just because it's nearly the holidays."

"Yes...of course."

"Come Robert dear, no need to be so harsh, Anthony has never let us down before."

Silence fell over the family for a few moments, as they returned to eating. Dean needed this time to muster up the courage to ask the question he's been dying to ask.

"Actually...about the holidays..." He produced the AWF flyer from his pocket and offered it to his father. "I was hoping to go into Brisbane one night, to meet up with Sam and see this wrestling event." The immediate response was nothing more than the slow and deliberate placing down of cutlery, making a distinct clink sound, piercing the very tense and awkward silence, as it connected with dinner plate. Both mother and father looked to Dean.

"You want to go to a WRESTLING event?" Asked his father, the judgement clear in his tone.

"Sam? I hope you do not mean that Sam Braxton boy. We have told you expressly not to interact with that juvenile delinquent."

"Struth mum!" The mother gasped at his expression and the father's sharp intake of breath made the young Dean realise the grave error he had just made.

"Such horrible language!" His mother wailed.

With a stern raising of the hand, Dean's father put an abrupt and summary end to any further conversation of the matter.

"That is not how we speak at this table. That Braxton is bad news. I will not see MY son consorting with a criminal and end up in juvenile hall. It is amazing the school even allowed the boy to enroll, what with his record, let alone how he has managed to remain there. As for this wrestling nonsense." The father crumpled up the flyer in his hands and tossed it over his shoulder. "I have told you before you are to forget this inane and barbaric garbage. You are a Coulter and above such things. Besides I was planning on having you join me in the office over the holidays. It's time we think about University and your future. End. Of. Discussion." The finality in his father's tone was more than evident and the family returned to their dinner. Dean's younger brother, Thomas, had watched in silent stunned awe, unaware of what exactly had been going on, though he was older enough to know when an argument was brewing. Dean no longer had an appetite and sat at the table with his gaze downcast for a time.

"May I be excused." He asked, placing his cutlery together among his partially eaten food.

"You have hardly eaten anything." His mother replied.

"I am no longer hungry." Dean mumbled.

"Very well. To your room then. I expect your chores finished and you into your studies." The father said, not even looking at his son as he said it.

Dean sulked all the way upstairs to his bedroom and flopped disappointed onto his bed.
Deep down he knew he was incredibly lucky and privileged to be in the position he was and he knew that there were others, some quite close to him, who had far worse family situations then he. Despite that in that very moment, he would have given anything to trade places.
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