3 - of punchable look and violet eyes

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Saturday, 08:10 AM.

After the agonizing days of sitting through classes with a pounding head, the weekend pranced into the spotlight, blessing the ever-grateful Abel with freedom.

Unfortunately, these moments were always gone at the speed of light, so he definitely should take advantage of them as much as he could, especially when the long-awaited convention was now within his grasp.

I can't stop smiling right now...

Abel usually embraced the routine of sleeping in, but when it came to cosplay events, all of his fatigue abruptly vanished into nothingness, perhaps reduced to atoms - something Thanos would say. He precipitously sprang in and out of the shower, and not even minutes later, he was already preparing his costume.

Yesterday, the beauty salon had flawlessly transformed Abel's black hair into shades of the vibrant skies, bearing resemblance to that hot detective. He then had his short bangs pulled to the back, although a few strands rebelled and fell into his forehead. Regardless, he batted his brows and impishly grinned in the mirror.

There's no doubt I perfectly impersonate him. He's like my long lost twin, after all.

Buttoning his gray blazer, he tightened up his tie. Now, he simply needed to brush his clothes off any visible wrinkles and buckled his belt, and voila, Abel Eastwood was ready to hypnotize his fans and other cosplayers in the entire convention.

Before leaving his room, he made sure to strike one last pose. Seeing his reflection flooded his veins with a large volume of dopamine. Remember Abel, it's all about showing off and confidence.

The moment he touched down the stairs, Abel quickly garnered attention... but it apparently wasn't the kind he sought for. He gripped his jaw as soon as he was met with a punchable look of Jethro and that stupid condemning glare from his father.

Wait, Dad? He blinked.

How shocking. His parents were actually - not that Abel gave a fuck anyway - right there, chilling on the sofa as if they were holding some sort of a reunion. Well, these two were hardly seen throughout the entire week, bustling their asses like they often claimed. For them to make a cameo... perhaps Abel was residing in a parallel universe or something.

"The next time I see you, you'll change your hair back, yeah?" Dad warned, lowering his gruff voice to try to sound intimidating, but it was not even close. "You look like some uneducated delinquent."

Welp, never mind that theory then. Abel was still living in the same dimension like everyone else. His supportive father spurted out crap as usual, never bothering about anything else but commenting on every decision and action his youngest son had made. They never care about what I said, so why the hell should I care about their words?

"Okay, I guess I'll see you in a million years, Dad." Abel never knew he could snort so loudly; yet another ability he wasn't aware of. Meanwhile, his gaze hovered over the family picture on the beach once more.

"That's not how you talk to your father, young man," Dad immediately lashed out, showing no signs of backing down. "Don't ever give me that kind of attitude."

"Sure thing, father," Abel retorted. "I have other attitudes in store. Please feel free to choose which one you like the most."

"You little-" Before Dad could storm towards Abel, Mom swiftly snatched his arm and pulled him back, cutting off his vitriol. Even from afar, Abel could see the veins popping out of Dad's neck as his knuckles grew white. So much for demanding respect.

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