The Next Day
Adonis woke up before dawn. He opened his eyes lazily, but upon seeing the clock, he sighed: it was only five in the morning.
He got up slowly, put on his sports clothes, and went out for a run. He needed to clear his mind.
—"Seriously, doing this feels really good," —he murmured to himself as he ran. —"It seems I kept the habit after those twenty days of punishment. Something good had to come out of all that,"— he added with a brief laugh.
The fresh air helped him think. He kept running as the sky began to turn orange and he saw the sun rising on the horizon. A beautiful sunrise illuminated the landscape.
But his mind was fixed on something else. He knew he had to finish it all today. Today he had to convince his parents.
As he ran, his ideas began to fall into place. He thought and rethought his arguments, until suddenly a way out occurred to him. A clear idea to convince them.
—"That's it..." —he whispered, feeling the tension ease a little.
When he realized it, the sun was already high in the sky. He returned home panting and sweaty.
—"Ha... it's already seven. Two hours running non-stop. I'm crazy... or my body and stamina are," —Adonis thought with a half-smile as he opened his front door.
Upon entering, he saw his father already awake, sitting in the dining room with a cup of coffee in his hand.
—"Oh... good morning, Father. I hope you slept well," —said Adonis, trying to sound charming as he caught his breath.
His father looked up from his cup and observed him from head to toe.
—"Good morning, Adonis. I see you woke up early... and almost killed yourself running," —he said with a slight smile, though his eyes scrutinized him attentively.
Adonis scratched the back of his neck, somewhat uncomfortable.
—"Bah, nothing serious. I just wanted to clear my mind."
His father took a sip of coffee and set the cup on the table.
—"Clear your mind for what?"
Adonis swallowed. It was early for such questions, but he knew he couldn't avoid them.
—"Well... to think about everything. About these days... about the punishment... and about what I want to talk to you about today," —he said, striving to sound sincere.
His father arched an eyebrow curiously.
—"Ah. I see. And does that include revisiting the idea of going to Greece?"
The silence grew heavy for a second. Adonis took a deep breath and nodded.
—"Yes. Exactly that."
His father narrowed his eyes, thoughtful.
—"Sit down."
Adonis obeyed instantly, his pulse still racing from the run. His father looked at him calmly, but with a more serious tone.
—"You know you didn't completely convince your mother yesterday," —he said finally. —"It was too improvised."
Adonis averted his gaze.
—"Yes... I know. That's why I've been thinking better about how to explain it."
His father gave a slight nod.
"I'm listening."
Adonis swallowed again. Here came the hard part.
—"Dad... I know I caused problems. I admit it. But I want to show you that I can be responsible. That if you let me go to Greece, it won't be just a whim. I'm willing to meet conditions. To send you letters, video calls, reports. Whatever you want."
The father said nothing, but listened attentively.
—"And... about the Academy," —Adonis continued, striving to sound confident. —"I researched more. It's very good. I want to study there, not just for the prestige, but because I want to change. To stop being... problematic."
The silence stretched for a moment longer. His father sighed and leaned back in his chair.
—"Are you really decided on this? You can't do things half-heartedly."
—"Yes," —Adonis affirmed more firmly.
The father nodded, with a glint of complicity in his gaze.
—"You're going to have to repeat all this in front of your mother," —he warned finally. —"And even more clearly. Straightforward. No excuses."
Adonis nodded immediately, feeling he had at least made a small advance.
—"Done. Today itself."
His father smiled faintly.
—"Good. Go take a good shower. Seriously. You look a mess. Then we'll have breakfast calmly and see how we approach this with your mother."
Adonis smiled too, more relieved.
—"Yes, Dad. Thank you."
He got up with some renewed energy, feeling that for the first time he had a real chance of succeeding.
Adonis went up the stairs almost two at a time, still sweaty, but with a spark of determination ignited in his chest.
—"I have to do it right..." —he murmured as he opened his bedroom door and looked for clean clothes.
He took a quick but careful shower, cleaning himself well so as not to give his mother more reasons to scold him. As the water fell on his head, he mentally rehearsed what he would say:
—"I'll be clear. No beating around the bush. I'll explain my plan. I'll show them I'm ready..."
When he finished, he dressed quickly and looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes had dark circles from lack of sleep, but they shone with resolve.
—"I can't mess it up," —he said in a low voice.
He went back down to the ground floor. The smell of warm bread and freshly brewed coffee hit his stomach hard, reminding him he hadn't eaten for hours. In the dining room, his father was serving plates while the twins playfully fought over a piece of butter. Upon seeing him, one of them shouted:
—"Big brother! You finally showered!"
—"Ugh, finally!" —added the other with feigned drama. —"Mom said you smelled horrible."
—"Yeah, yeah, very funny," —replied Adonis, ruffling their hair as he passed.
His father turned and smiled warmly at him.
—"Come on, sit down. Eat something. Your mother is on her way."
Adonis obeyed immediately. He poured himself juice and took bread, though his hands trembled almost imperceptibly.
A few seconds later, his mother appeared in the dining room doorway, her brow slightly furrowed and her expression serious.
—"Good morning," —she said in a dry tone.
—"Good morning..." —everyone replied in unison, though Adonis's voice came out a little quieter than he wanted.
She sat on the other side of the table and interlaced her fingers on the tablecloth. Her eyes settled on him with tense calm.
—"So... I was told you want to revisit yesterday's topic with us," —said his mother, in that voice that allowed no nonsense.
Adonis swallowed and lowered his gaze for a second before raising it again. His father, sitting beside him, gave him a more understanding look, almost encouraging him.
—"Yes. I want you to really listen to me."
His mother didn't move a millimeter.
—"Go ahead. We're listening."
The twins fell silent, sensing the tension even if they didn't fully understand it.
Adonis took a deep breath.
—"I want to go to Greece. To Heliconios Academy. But I don't want you to think it's a whim or a crazy idea. I have reasons, a plan, and I'm willing to accept conditions."
His mother arched a skeptical eyebrow.
"Go on."
His father made a subtle gesture with his hand to encourage him to continue.
Adonis clenched his fists under the table to calm himself and began to explain.
—"Mom, Dad..." —he said calmly. —"I know we talked about this last night, but I want to make it clear to you that I didn't come to ask for a whim. I've thought a lot about how to do it right."
His mother arched an eyebrow.
—"I'm listening."
—"If you let me go to Heliconios Academy, I want it to be formal. Let's talk with the administration, with the tutor. Let you yourselves sign the enrollment. I want to go officially. No running away. No secrets."
His father nodded slightly, encouraging him with his eyes.
His mother, on the other hand, didn't move. She just watched him sternly.
Adonis swallowed.
—"I want a clear plan. For you to know everything: the dates, the contacts, the accommodation. I won't hide anything from you. And while I'm there, I commit to sending you letters or calling you every week."
His mother narrowed her eyes.
—"And why all this sudden formality?"
Adonis gripped his glass a little tighter.
—"Because I've already learned what happens when things aren't done properly. I don't want to worry you again. I just want you to give me the chance to prove that I can do this the right way."
A heavy silence fell.
Finally, his father spoke:
—"Son... would you really commit to all that?"
Adonis looked up and nodded, firmly.
—"Yes. I swear I would."
His mother let out a slow sigh. She seemed to be wrestling with herself.
—"I'm not giving a yes yet," —she said, in a lower but still firm tone. —"But I admit you're at least thinking more seriously."
Adonis breathed, relieved even though he knew it wasn't won.
—"Thank you. For listening to me."
His father smiled at him proudly, while the twins clapped without understanding much, happy about the less tense tone. Once the conversation at the table was over, his parents had gotten up to go to their study to talk in private. But before they got too far, Adonis stood up abruptly and went after his father.
—"Dad!" he called in a low but urgent tone.
His father turned, surprised.
Adonis grabbed his arm firmly. His voice came out almost trembling, but firm.
—"Dad... I don't think I can convince Mom on my own. Please... help me. I really want to go to that Academy. Please... help me." —His expression softened, revealing a mix of pleading and childlike anxiety. —"Yeees, pleeease..."
His father looked at him for a few seconds, reading his face attentively. Then he sighed, defeated.
—"Alright..." —he said, placing a heavy hand on Adonis's shoulder. —"I'll talk to her."
Adonis felt immediate relief and almost wanted to hug him, but restrained himself.
—"Thank you..."
His father frowned a little, but smiled faintly.
—"But listen to me well," —he said in a lower, more serious voice. —"I see you're really distressed about this. I don't know what motive is making you so determined, but I suppose it must be important. That's why I'm going to help you."
Adonis swallowed and nodded his head, attentive.
—"But..." —his father added, raising a finger in front of him. —"If we manage to get your mother to agree and we let you go, you will fulfill EVERYTHING you promised today. And if you don't, I'll be the first one on a plane to bring you back. Understood?"
Adonis sketched a small, tremulous smile, but full of determination.
—"Yes, Dad. I promise."
The man gave him one last squeeze on the shoulder before walking away to where his wife was waiting to talk.
Adonis stood for a moment in the middle of the hallway, letting out a long sigh and letting his arms fall to his sides.
—"Please..." —he murmured almost as a plea to the void. —"Let it work."
With one last glance towards where his parents had disappeared through the door, he turned slowly and walked towards his room.
Adonis entered his room dragging his feet, his head full of a thousand different scenarios. He closed the door carefully and let himself fall back against it.
—"Please... please..." —he murmured to himself, his voice laden with anxiety.
He approached his desk and saw the bottle with the golden flower. He took it in his hands, seeking some calm in its faint glow.
—"I don't have much time left..." —he whispered, resting his forehead against the cold glass.
The daylight filtered through the window, illuminating the room with soft, orange tones. Outside, the wind rustled the leaves, and in the distance, the muffled laughter of his brothers playing in the garden could be heard.
Adonis breathed deeply. He closed his eyes, trying not to think about the nerves eating away at his stomach.
—"Dad... I trust you," —he said in a thread of voice.
He turned to sit on his bed, carefully placing the bottle on the table. He rubbed his face with both hands, exhaling forcefully.
—"Alright... calm down, Adonis. If you want them to believe in you, you have to be calm. You have to show them you can be responsible." —He let out a small, humorless laugh. —"It sounds easy when I say it out loud..."
He looked at the flower again, which seemed to glow with a soft, constant pulse.
—"Two moons... and I've already finished one," —he murmured, his jaw tense.
Suddenly, a soft knock was heard at the door.
—"Big brother..." —It was the voice of one of the twins, barely audible.
—"What is it?" —replied Adonis, making an effort to sound normal.
—"Mom and Dad are calling for you."
Adonis felt a lurch in his stomach. He swallowed with difficulty and stood up.
—"Alright... I'm coming."
He stood for a few more seconds looking at the flower, as if seeking courage in its glow, before turning and leaving the room with slow but determined steps.