Wreckles
Super-Earth
- Joined
- Jul 17, 2011
It came as a surprise to everyone, including Hugo himself, when he finally called home and told her that he was coming home. Several years had passed since he left home, perhaps to find himself or just to escape the daily life in a quiet American suburb for a while. Italy, France, Germany among other places, these were countries he had visited with some of his friends to begin with. Emancipated and starting out so innocently, their original thoughts were to just have a long vacation, to live out some of their wishes and see the world before settling down somewhere to create a family. They found themselves in need of money and stubborn as they all were, none of them called home and told them about their situation. Too much partying, too many drugs and reckless lifestyles, it came as no surprise when they slowly but surely descended into the darker side of life. Beginning modestly, from mere conning the wealthy tourists but criminality is a gateway, they moved on to more dangerous scenarios and before they knew it one of them had been arrested for armed robbery and drug possession.
The group of friends dwindled and soon there was only Hugo and his friend Matt left. They had been strongest, the wittiest and made friends with the right people. Hugo and Matt were too clever to be ensnared by simple things unlike the others and within six months in France they were well known names for drug dealers. From a simple viewpoint, their life was good. They had money, they threw wild parties and eluded the police in clever maneuvers. But the downside of using stronger and stronger drugs is appalling, soon Hugo and Matt found themselves in spots they would easily have gotten out of if their minds were not dulled by heroin or any of that other filth they used. Matt got caught, Hugo didn't.
His weary heart told him that it was time to return home, to recuperate and see how life would treat him in the country he grew up in. His mother had cried when he called, and now it felt so incredibly odd to touch down on the soil that raised him. Not much had changed at the airport, the scenery was the same and it felt like time had stood still for nearly three years. His father waited for him at the parking lot, Hugo was slightly taller than his father, measuring at 5'9". Hugo wore shades out of habit, even during night as the sunlight felt like needles on his eyes when he had used drugs. Clean as he was now, he still had a lot of recovery to do. His hair were a shade darker than blonde and the eyes a mixture of green and grey, no longer holding the same vigor he had when he left. In his prime, Hugo had maintained a very delicious body, he had spent three to four times a week at the local swimming hall and other than that he enjoyed hectic runs in the forest which gave him a athletic body over the time. Now his former strength was dissipated, diluted by drugs and a generally unhealthy lifestyle. Yet he still carried himself with pride, determined to reach the heights again.
Hugo had kind features which served great as deception when he had been a drug dealer, his nose was sharp and he had always been able to put on the perfect fake smile which could charm most of his onlookers. A scar was a memento from the time in Italy where he had been too brave or too foolish, it stretched over his left eyebrow in an upward line but still looked small, only to disappear completely when he smiled. One he so expertly greeted his father with now.
His father walked up to him with stride in his feet and gave him a hug only a relieved father could give. His arms wrapped around Hugo who returned the gesture, the beige leather jacket he wore made the characteristically noise when leather was stretched. Despite the lingering warmth from what looked like it would become a nice early spring day his father was shaking and for a moment Hugo thought his father was going to cry. He pushed the man who had raised him away and took off his shades, folding them into his pocket and gave his old man a meaningful look. "Hello dad." That was all he could say, for he felt very little right now. It felt like the proper thing to say and if Hugo added one of his nice-boy smiles he could have his father believe anything.
The two men talked briefly, his father mostly about how his mother was and how glad she was when she heard he was coming home again. No questions were asked of what Hugo had been doing, no doubt his father did not want to break the weary spell between them, and Hugo knew his father withheld many questions that would be brought up when he felt that Hugo was not prone to run away anymore. They were driving home where his mother was waiting and only to make conversation Hugo asked how Jenna was doing. His father took the safe route and made jokes about who knew what teenage girls was thinking. Hugo had never forgotten Jenna, he still kept the picture of her from three years ago, he had ran away from his brotherly duties, leaving Jenna to grow up without his guidance, his protection and comforting arms. Now that they were coming closer and closer to the house they had grown up in his feelings started to return, little by little. He ran a hand through his dirty blonde hair and concluded two things. He was in dire need of a haircut and a shave.
The group of friends dwindled and soon there was only Hugo and his friend Matt left. They had been strongest, the wittiest and made friends with the right people. Hugo and Matt were too clever to be ensnared by simple things unlike the others and within six months in France they were well known names for drug dealers. From a simple viewpoint, their life was good. They had money, they threw wild parties and eluded the police in clever maneuvers. But the downside of using stronger and stronger drugs is appalling, soon Hugo and Matt found themselves in spots they would easily have gotten out of if their minds were not dulled by heroin or any of that other filth they used. Matt got caught, Hugo didn't.
His weary heart told him that it was time to return home, to recuperate and see how life would treat him in the country he grew up in. His mother had cried when he called, and now it felt so incredibly odd to touch down on the soil that raised him. Not much had changed at the airport, the scenery was the same and it felt like time had stood still for nearly three years. His father waited for him at the parking lot, Hugo was slightly taller than his father, measuring at 5'9". Hugo wore shades out of habit, even during night as the sunlight felt like needles on his eyes when he had used drugs. Clean as he was now, he still had a lot of recovery to do. His hair were a shade darker than blonde and the eyes a mixture of green and grey, no longer holding the same vigor he had when he left. In his prime, Hugo had maintained a very delicious body, he had spent three to four times a week at the local swimming hall and other than that he enjoyed hectic runs in the forest which gave him a athletic body over the time. Now his former strength was dissipated, diluted by drugs and a generally unhealthy lifestyle. Yet he still carried himself with pride, determined to reach the heights again.
Hugo had kind features which served great as deception when he had been a drug dealer, his nose was sharp and he had always been able to put on the perfect fake smile which could charm most of his onlookers. A scar was a memento from the time in Italy where he had been too brave or too foolish, it stretched over his left eyebrow in an upward line but still looked small, only to disappear completely when he smiled. One he so expertly greeted his father with now.
His father walked up to him with stride in his feet and gave him a hug only a relieved father could give. His arms wrapped around Hugo who returned the gesture, the beige leather jacket he wore made the characteristically noise when leather was stretched. Despite the lingering warmth from what looked like it would become a nice early spring day his father was shaking and for a moment Hugo thought his father was going to cry. He pushed the man who had raised him away and took off his shades, folding them into his pocket and gave his old man a meaningful look. "Hello dad." That was all he could say, for he felt very little right now. It felt like the proper thing to say and if Hugo added one of his nice-boy smiles he could have his father believe anything.
The two men talked briefly, his father mostly about how his mother was and how glad she was when she heard he was coming home again. No questions were asked of what Hugo had been doing, no doubt his father did not want to break the weary spell between them, and Hugo knew his father withheld many questions that would be brought up when he felt that Hugo was not prone to run away anymore. They were driving home where his mother was waiting and only to make conversation Hugo asked how Jenna was doing. His father took the safe route and made jokes about who knew what teenage girls was thinking. Hugo had never forgotten Jenna, he still kept the picture of her from three years ago, he had ran away from his brotherly duties, leaving Jenna to grow up without his guidance, his protection and comforting arms. Now that they were coming closer and closer to the house they had grown up in his feelings started to return, little by little. He ran a hand through his dirty blonde hair and concluded two things. He was in dire need of a haircut and a shave.