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The Art Of The UnderDog Chapter 28
A knowing smile played on Lady Guila’s lips as she responded, “Sometimes, people’s pasts leave marks on them that can be sensed by those who have experienced similar pain and heartache.” Her words were cryptic, and Tyler felt a mix of curiosity and trepidation. “Anyways, all I am trying to say is that you should focus on yourself and while you are at it, you are going to get pulled down by those that hate you and by the ones you love and care about. They might love and care about you as well and may think that their opinion is right but they’d be wrong because a person’s opinion is only good for him at some point, and not someone else because your thought might not apt because you might not be able to fit in the person's shoes to give an advice” lady Guila said calmly. Lady Guila’s words of wisdom resonated deeply with Tyler as he calmly listened to her advice. Her perspective on focusing on oneself and not letting the opinions of others dictate one’s path struck a chord within him.
The Art Of The UnderDog Chapter 29
Tyler continued to gaze at the photograph with a mix of curiosity and confusion evident in his furrowed brows. He was captivated by the image, which seemed to hold some hidden significance that eluded him. With a slow exhale, he reluctantly tore his gaze away from the photo and turned back to his Eve, where he settled down. As he reclined, his eyes caught sight of his friend Ron, who was also staring at the picture with an enigmatic expression, much like a dragon lurking in the background of a distant realm. Tyler was at a loss for words, struggling to decipher the emotions evoked by the photograph.Unable to comprehend the enigmatic scene portrayed in the picture, he found himself repeating the words softly, as if the act of verbalization might provide some clarity. Alas, the mystery remained unsolved, and he felt a fleeting sense of childlike bewilderment before swiftly regaining his composure, locking his emotions away like secrets in a hidden vault.Just as Tyler was trying to gat
The Art Of The UnderDog Chapter 30
A moment of silence ensued. It was as though he didn’t know what to say. Tyler didn’t know what to say to her. He wasn’t expecting her to pick and her picking caught him off guard. “Have you changed your mind?” She asked with a straight tone. It was obvious that she didn’t have time for little chit chats. Tyler took a moment of silence, held his breath before he gently released it with an answer coming out. “Mother, I am in Milan”.Tyler said gently, with his eyes closed. He waited for her next line of action. The only thing he heard was silence. A very loud silence. “Mom, please I…” Tyler was still about explaining why he wanted her to come but before he could, she dropped the call. Tyler was talking to himself . He stared at the phone and a prick of emotion tingled in his chest. He gritted his teeth in slight anger. The abrupt end to the conversation left Tyler in a state of disarray. He had hoped for a chance to explain himself, to bridge the chasm that had formed between them
The Art Of The UnderDog Chapter 31
With a heavy and confused heart, Tyker mustered the courage to extend his hand for a handshake with Andrea. However, Andrea didn’t even bother to offer his other hand in return, but instead, he shot Tyker a bewildering and rather disgusting stare. It was as though he was irritated by Tyker’s mere presence. The way Andrea stared at Tyker made it seem like he had stumbled upon something utterly repulsive on his hand. Feeling self-conscious, Tyker looked down at his hand, quickly checking to ensure there was nothing remotely disgusting on it.“I just moisturized my hand,” Andrew said with an air of calm disdain in his tone. “I’m sorry, I can’t accept a handshake now.” Tyler felt a mix of embarrassment and annoyance, but he managed to conceal his true emotions behind a forced smile. After all, he had faced far more demeaning insults from people than the one he received from Andrea.With a nod of his head, Tyker settled back into his chair, feeling a mix of confusion and disbelief washing
The Art Of The UnderDog Chapter 32
Andrea took deliberate steps, each footfall carrying him deeper into the dimly lit room, an enigmatic aura surrounding him. Tyler’s gaze remained unflinchingly fixed upon Andrea, an intensity that seemed to carve a path from head to toe, scrutinizing every nuance. A palpable tension simmered in the air, creating a charged atmosphere that crackled with unspoken words and unresolved emotions. In the depths of Andrea’s eyes, shadows danced, painting his gaze with an almost eerie darkness that mirrored the weight of the moment.“Tyler,” Andrea’s voice rippled through the room once more, its timbre a fusion of determination and significance that seemed to resonate against the very walls. This time, his words bore a renewed strength, as if he had drawn from an unseen well of resolve. The echoes of his name hung in the air, waiting for a response that seemed suspended in the tension.However, Tyler maintained his silence, a spectator to the enigma that was Andrea. Seated in stillness, he stud
The Art Of The UnderDog Chapter 33
Tyler’s brows furrowed in response, the question a puzzle he grappled to decipher. The waves of his confusion met Andrea’s gaze, locked in a battle of wills and perceptions. “I beg your pardon?” Tyler’s voice bore the undertones of both frustration and bewilderment, the contours of his expression mirroring the storm of emotions swirling within him.In response, Andrea’s features shifted, a ripple of disgust crossing his countenance like a storm cloud eclipsing the sun. The look, a venomous concoction of emotions, seemed to burn with intensity, as if every fiber of his being had been ignited by a hidden flame. In that moment, the unspoken exchange took on an almost palpable form, a battlefield of emotions that seemed to echo within the walls of the room.The room, once a haven of unspoken complexities, became a battleground of emotions as Andrea’s words cleaved through the air like a sharpened blade, each syllable cutting deep into Tyler’s core. The venom in his tone was palpable, an at
The Art Of The UnderDog Chapter 34
Tyler’s response was a guttural growl, a sound that resonated with the primal intensity of a wolf halting its charge on the precipice of attack. His command, like a thunderous decree, echoed through the room, his voice a mixture of raw power and unyielding determination. His stance, a visual embodiment of his resolve, seemed to carve an invisible boundary between them, an unspoken warning that Andrea dared not ignore.Andrea’s smile, a wisp of sly amusement, seemed to dance upon the edges of his lips as he placed his hand upon Tyler’s shoulder. The gesture, an intimate touch that defied the tension of their encounter, was juxtaposed against the words that followed. “Poor dog can only bark but have no action,” Andrea’s words were a taunt, the sting of his mockery a provocation that cut to the quick. His words, a calculated strike, cast a shadow of doubt upon Tyler’s resolve, a challenge to the very core of his being.Tyler’s features, already a fiery red, seemed to blaze with an intensi
The Art Of The UnderDog Chapter 35
Tyler’s abrupt awakening was marked by a sudden jolt, his body surging upwards from the comfort of the bed, perspiration trickling down in rivulets across every contour of his face. His heart, like an overenthusiastic drummer, pounded relentlessly within the cage of his ribs, the muscles around his eyes exhibiting small, involuntary twitches as they struggled to focus on a seemingly inconspicuous point in the room. A potent cocktail of fear and anxiety was painted across his features, each emotion etched vividly as his breaths escalated into an almost aggressive rhythm.Surveying his surroundings with a gaze that seemed to comb through every inch of the room, Tyler’s eyes scoured as though in search of an elusive answer. Then, in the midst of this tumultuous tempest of emotions, a realization slowly unfurled within him like the petals of a blooming flower. “Oh dang it!” He snapped. It was all but a dream, a figment of his subconscious weaving a tapestry of surreal narratives. A sigh,
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