The Rise of the Heir

Chapter 3

Theo's boarding room door creaked loudly as it pushed open, making a painful sound that seemed to be complaining under his weight that afternoon. The musty smell of the damp walls immediately overwhelmed him as soon as the doorknob was turned. Theo didn't bother turning on the lights; he left the cramped room lit only by the dim light from the ventilation hole above the door.

He flopped down on the thin cotton mattress, the springs already digging into his back. His back and ribs, which had been hit by the wooden beams earlier that afternoon, suddenly throbbed violently as soon as they touched the mattress. Theo closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to ease the physical pain that was slowly spreading throughout his body.

Just as he was trying to calm himself, the phone in his jacket pocket vibrated.

The name "Mom" flashed on the screen. Theo stared at it for a long moment, blankly. He took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and then pressed the green button.

"Hello, Mom?" Theo's voice was hoarse.

"Theo? Where are you? Why is your voice like that?" Risa's voice on the other end sounded high-pitched, but this time there was a hint of panic that she quickly masked with firmness. "You must come to Papa Danu's house tonight. Wear clean, neat clothes. Don't wear that courier jacket or your work uniform. I don't want Papa Danu to start asking questions about your job again."

Theo massaged the bridge of his nose, which was throbbing with stiffness. "What's wrong, Mom? I'm so tired today."

"Rian was accepted into Armagenda University, Theo. By invitation," Risa paused, her voice suddenly softening, heavy with the burden she had been carrying alone. "I know you're tired. But please understand my position in this house. I need you to appear secure in front of them, Theo. If you keep avoiding me and living a difficult life out there, Papa Danu will have even more reason to cut our allowances. I'm doing all this to secure our position in this family. Come at seven, okay? I beg you, don't be late."

Tut.

The line was disconnected abruptly. Theo lowered his phone slowly. He was stunned. For the first time, he realized that his mother's anger and demands weren't just pure hatred or simply about Theo's late father, but fear disguised as anger.

His mother was trapped in that big house, risking her pride to survive under the mercy of her new husband. The dimmed phone screen displayed a wallpaper of his girlfriend, Agatha. The photo had been taken a year ago during their date in the flower garden.

Agatha smiled broadly with her distinctive dimples. All this time, that photo was the only thing keeping Theo from going crazy amidst the pressures of life in Monia.

A W******p notification sounded. The screen lit up again, interrupting the image of the sweet photo with a long string of messages.

Agatha: [Theo, I'm sorry I have to send you a message like this. I don't know where to start, but our relationship must end here. Yesterday, Justin came back from London. He went straight to my mother, bringing a business proposal for my family's cake shop, which was on the verge of bankruptcy.]

Theo choked. His breath suddenly caught in his throat. Her fingers trembled as she scrolled down the screen.

Agatha: [Honestly, Theo, I'm tired. I'm tired of watching my mother cry every day over the mounting grocery bills. Yesterday, my mother begged me on her knees to take Justin back. You're a very good man, Theo. You've always been there for me. But your kindness can't save my family from bankruptcy.]

Agatha: [I can't be selfish anymore. I can't continue living in uncertainty with you while my house is on the verge of foreclosure. I need someone who's resolved their financial problems to support my family, not a blue collar worker who has to sacrifice his own food allowance just to buy me a birthday present. Please, don't look for me again. I'm truly sorry, Theo.]

The phone slowly slipped from Theo's grasp, falling with a thud onto the cold tile floor.

The dorm room suddenly fell silent. The sound of the creaking old fan and the noise of traffic from the highway outside seemed to vanish from Theo's hearing. Theo's chest heaved rapidly, but his lungs felt empty, refusing to take in oxygen.

All this time, he had been willing to endure the world's ravages because he thought he had one safe place to return to: a pier called Agatha. But now, even that place had chosen to cast him out, the burden of life too heavy to bear together.

Theo rose from the bed. He didn't cry with weak sobs. Instead, his jaw clenched so tightly that the muscles in his neck and temples bulged with tension. His gaze was blank, staring straight at the cracked mirror on the wall.

"Menial laborer..." the word escaped his lips, slow, dry, and broken.

The air in the room suddenly felt hot and oppressive. Theo gripped the edge of the nearby wooden table. The frustration, anger, and physical pain he had been holding in since yesterday combined, creating an overwhelming pressure in his head.

CRACK!

With one violent jerk, Theo overturned the wooden table. Books, a water bottle, and an old alarm clock left by his father were thrown against the wall, shattering into pieces.

His breath came in ragged gasps, carrying the scent of dust in the room and the pungent smell of blood from his parted lips. Theo grabbed a plastic chair in the corner, smashing it repeatedly against the floor until it shattered into sharp pieces. One of the sharp plastic shards cut his ankle, bleeding, but Theo didn't even look up. The stinging pain on his skin was nothing compared to the utter devastation of his soul.

He leaned his forehead against the cold concrete wall, his hands clenched into fists until his knuckles were white and trembling violently.

"I've followed all your rules, Dad," Theo thought, his teeth chattering with rage. “I suppressed my ego. I gave in to Mother. I kept quiet when everyone insulted me. I worked until my body was broken to give Agatha a future. And what was the result?”

Theo slowly straightened himself, turning to face the cracked mirror that hung crookedly. He stared at his own reflection—a young man with a bluish-red face, a uniform torn at the shoulder, and knuckles bleeding from gripping the shards.

But slowly, the trembling in his hands stopped. Theo's chest, which had been heaving wildly, began to stabilize. All the explosive anger suddenly subsided, solidifying into a cold, deep calm in his eyes.

He wiped the blood from the corner of his lip with the back of his hand, then picked up his phone, its screen now cracked a thousand times on the floor. Agatha's text still flashed there, but Theo had no intention of typing a reply. He turned off the screen, put it in his pocket, and walked to the bathroom to wash his face.

As the cold water splashed against his face and his wounds, Theo stared straight at his reflection in the sink mirror. There was no more doubt, no more self-pity. The patient and ever-compromising Theo had run out on this boarding house floor.

Tonight, he had to go to his mother's house. And for the first time, Theo would come not as a guilty, submissive child, seeking to satisfy his mother's ego, but as someone ready to take charge of his own destiny.