Strings Of Iron (Spicynoodles)

Chapter Four: A Lazy Workaholic And A Wasted Latte

Red Son didn't usually treat himself to sweets.

It's not that he disliked them by any means. If anything he had the biggest sweet tooth in his family, which was a surprise considering his overwhelming love for a rich bowl of spicy noodles.

Whenever he felt proud of a new invention that didn't blow up in his face, or a minor win against the wretched Newdle Boy, or accomplishing his absurd amount of tasks in a shorter time than usual, he would treat himself to a delicacy he stumbled upon in his early 90's.

Of the few good memories he had with his father, trying new recipes and baking in the oversized kitchen while he sat on the counter next to the bowl of chocolate liquor his father was preparing. Red Son would spend most of the time not paying close attention to the steps his father was taking, mainly just babbling on about the more significant points of his day out in the garden or the interesting little trinket he put together.

But he could simply never forget the first time he tasted his father's homemade Belgian chocolate, no other memory could ever compare.

While those memories were precious, they were in the past.

He was an adult now, he didn't have time for sweet Belgian chocolate, or long unwavering rambles. He needed to work his ass off to prove to his parents he was deserving of those dear moments again, those words as sweet as chocolate, the creamy caramel filling of their embrace.

Red Son shook out of his daze as he heard a wrench clatter on the fancy floor of his workshop. It had slipped out of his hand because of his incessant daydreaming, he was slacking. Lazy. But still working. He had been trying to install new boosters onto a fancy red racecar. It was sleek and had golden/yellow accents adorning the rear and front wing, as well as the barge boards.

Red Son tried to be proud of it, he really did. But the boosters just wouldn't enhance the car over a merely 345 MPH and he needed them to go over 350 if he wanted to get anywhere. Damn it, couldn't he just get this one thing done without it BLOWING UP IN HIS FU-

Red Son sighed and patted down his crackling ponytail. He wiped the car grease off of his forehead with a dirty cloth before throwing it back onto a side table. It's been days since he last slept, it was no wonder he wasn't up to his full potential. He could barely tell left from right, somehow he kept himself up for work and got no work done for the past 4 days.

A weight settled in his gut, he would have to tell his parents why nothing had been getting done. He would have to tell them why he was covered in grease yet there were no clear changes in any of his inventions.

He clenched his jaw as little embers began to linger in the air around his hair.

Whatever, that time would come when it did. All he could do now was... keep distracting himself until that time did come.

The sun flashed in his eyes through the curtains, he squinted at the sky. Was it already morning? Already? He needed to go get some coffee, he felt exhausted but couldn't seem to fall asleep. He'd have to buy more melatonin, how many bottles had he dug through now? 3? 4? Who was counting, he didn't even know why he was so restless. Was it stress? No, it couldn't be, he didn't have anything to stress over. Wait- what was he gonna do again?

Oh right, coffee.

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The car door slammed shut as Redson ducked out of it.

He was outside of a quaint little cafe, the neon sign above the door read 'Water Way Cafe' in glowing cyan letters. He squinted at the sun and shivered at the cold he couldn't really feel. He pulled up his scarf and stepped into the sweet little cafe.