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The Abandoned Son Jerome Brewer
His consciousness blurred, and at some point, someone chuckled softly in his ear, patting his head gently. "Demetrius, it's time to wake up. It's not good to oversleep." Demetrius opened his eyes. Despite blinking rapidly, he couldn't make out Acevedo Berry's face, which was gradually becoming blurry, until another person's silhouette started to form on that face. - Scarlette. Feeling something wet on his face, Demetrius instinctively reached up to touch it, finding saliva on his hand. He sat up, realizing it was all a dream. The room was dim, and a faint light peeked through the curtains. Winglet stood beside the bed, eager to lick his hand. Just as he suspected, it was a dream. Demetrius let Winglet out, drew the curtains, changed his clothes, freshened up, and had a simple breakfast. Then, he took Winglet out for a morning run. The time was barely 6 AM, and as he descended the stairs, Demetrius spotted Scarlette. Upon seeing Demetrius, Scarlette nodded at him, her sharp fe
The Abandoned Son Demetrius #1
After Demetrius left, Finlay made several attempts to turn the vacant room back into a music room. However, each time he mentioned it to Mrs. Gallagher, she became upset and emotional, reminding her of what happened with Demetrius. Worried that Mrs. Gallagher's emotions might escalate and trigger her old state, Finlay decided to drop the subject, leaving the matter unresolved. Yet, Finlay himself couldn't shake off his irritability. Every time he entered the room and saw the unused piano, an inexplicable anger surged within him. Despite dedicating years to practice, what was the point? Demetrius had effortlessly outperformed him, making his devotion to the piano seem like a mere joke. However, Finlay couldn't bear the idea of admitting defeat. He considered Demetrius incomparable to himself. With a shake of his head, Finlay positioned himself in front of the piano and pressed the keys. The high notes sounded sharp and piercing, making him realize it had been a long time since he l
The Abandoned Son Fake
"Because you're an idiot, because you're foolish." That strange voice had emerged countless times, and Finlay's fingers suddenly tightened around the table. Gritting his teeth, he demanded, "Who are you?" No one responded, and passersby heard his words, casting puzzled glances at him. It almost seemed as though he was imagining the voice himself. However, Finlay knew that this voice couldn't be a product of his imagination. Demetrius had lost count of how many autographs he'd signed. When he finished the last one, he put down the pen, rubbed his wrist, and met Finlay's intense gaze. Demetrius ignored him, preparing to leave, but he heard Finlay's slightly sharp question, "Why are you Aplorer?" Most people had already moved on to the cosplay competition area. The remaining individuals were predominantly event staff who glanced at Finlay with confusion at his peculiar words. Among these unfamiliar faces, Finlay no longer felt the need to put on a facade. He stared at Demetrius, clo
The Abandoned Son Another amount of money
It was the happiest day in the entire Class F. Laughter lasted for several minutes before finally subsiding. People passing by couldn't help but wonder if everyone had won the lottery, as they seemed unusually cheerful. "Demetrius, Mr. Stephens said this competition was very challenging. I didn't expect you to get first place. You're amazing!" Derick gave him a thumbs-up, and others followed suit. "Thank you," Demetrius said, returning to his seat. "Can I touch your gold medal? Just a look is fine," Derick leaned over. Demetrius nodded and handed him the gold medal. Instantly, people around crowded in, touching and exclaiming, "Touching it feels much better than our medal." "This is the closest I've ever been to a gold medal in my life. Thank you, Demetrius, for letting me see a gold medal up close." "Let's take a picture, let's take a picture! Mr. Stephens, come for a group photo!" Derick took out his phone and called out to Mr. Stephens, who was about to leave. "Quick, quick, q
The Abandoned Son Bus
Demetrius pulled the table closer to Osvaldo and took a seat. Osvaldo was half-asleep, having long declared his preference for solitude. Upon hearing movement, he was ready to ask the person beside him to move. But upon realizing it was Demetrius, he fell silent, shooting a surprised glance at Finlay. "How did he end up here?" People like Finlay could negotiate seat changes, but Osvaldo couldn't. Finlay abandoned the idea and gazed at Demetrius, his smile warm. "I switched classes. Demetrius, we're back together." It sounded as if Finlay and Demetrius were close, as if Finlay had intentionally switched classes to be with him. Demetrius, without a word, lent his well-organized notes to a classmate. "He's as annoying as a fly. Demetrius can't be bothered with him," someone rolled their eyes and commented. Finlay looked at the speaker, his smile unwavering, but his gaze made the person uncomfortable. It was only when the person looked away voluntarily that Finlay turned to Demetrius
The Abandoned Son Your biological father
"After I released my grip," Osvaldo suddenly fell silent, his body slipping downward until he lay motionless on the ground. Turning around, Demetrius found Osvaldo's eyes tightly shut, his face contorted in pain and fear. "He's passed out too." "Let's move them one by one," Macey suggested, undeterred by the situation. She grabbed Derick and continued, "The exit probably isn't here. Check that cabinet; exits are usually nearby." Observing the unresponsive duo, the ghost felt a pang of disappointment. It glanced at Finlay, hoping to frighten him as it attempted to emerge. Just as it started to appear, Macey pushed Derick aside, rolled up her sleeves, and forcefully opened the cabinet. Frustrated by the door's resistance, she kicked it in annoyance. Jumping back, the ghost hastily retreated, closing the door, pretending it hadn't come out. After some forceful attempts, Macey finally opened the cabinet, revealing a locked door behind it, requiring a password to open. Demetrius walked
The Abandoned Son Where is she?
He turned, locking eyes with Scarlette's profound, intense gaze. Draped in black, Scarlette possessed a slender figure, her features distant and icy. The subtle pursing of her thin lips only deepened her air of restraint. She extended a cup of warm milk to Demetrius, her gentle eyes dissolving the cold distance around her. "Morning." Demetrius accepted the cup. "Good morning. Thank you." Scarlette's eyes shifted from the snowman behind him back to Demetrius. The young man before her had fair skin, a slightly reddened nose from the cold, and fingertips tinged with redness, likely from molding the snow. Scarlette raised her hand, tousling Demetrius's hair. "Feeling cold?" As if conjuring magic, she produced a hat and placed it on Demetrius's head, tidying his slightly disheveled hair. The warmth of the milk melted the chill from Demetrius's hands. Scarlette's movements were tender, causing Demetrius to narrow his eyes as he watched the smooth contours of Scarlette's jawline. He shoo
The Abandoned Son Make friend
The manga posted on the website had amassed over a thousand comments by the time it reached its sixth episode during the second week of updates. While the website offered a recommendation, most comments indicated that readers had discovered it through Twitter. Demetrius only realized the surge in comments upon posting the seventh episode. Expressing gratitude for the support, he browsed Twitter and stumbled upon a popular blogger with over six hundred thousand followers promoting his manga. The post had garnered five hundred and six retweets, thirteen hundred comments, and six thousand likes. Many people chose to d******d the "Sunday Comics" app after coming across this Twitter recommendation. At the end of the seventh episode, Demetrius included an image to thank the blogger and everyone for their support before indulging his pet, Winglet, with treats. With his refrigerator empty, Demetrius donned his coat, hat, and scarf, making his way to the nearby supermarket. Upon arrival, he