Months ago, their father had let his alcoholism twirl out hand more intensely than ever before. Upon getting laid off at his job after he and his sister were witnessed destroying property during an eventful bar fight, their father had later become sober to find himself in a ten foot hole without a rope. Cody and Brenden found him desperately sucking money through any source - which would clearly never be repaid, the sources even being a thing known as "saved rent money." They couldn't help but notice the shameless, eventual disappearance of appliances, which were never of good quality to begin with, and just days before now the couch had been moved into a stranger's truck to be replaced by small bills. The food transformed into alcoholic beverages, the amount increasing with the more money their father became insensitive enough to leech. It was about nothing but affording the alcohol. And just the prior day, the eviction notice stamped onto the door had thrown their father into an abusive, furious rage, and it led to the end of the needle for their tolerance.
Brenden then told his brother, "I know we haven't seen her in quite a long time. But Mom and I talked yesterday; her house seems really nice, she has the next few months off, and she immediately accepted that we needed a place."
Cody was grinning a bit. He wasn't too proud of this car ride that seemed to last hours and the sharp changes of scenery that came with it; however, something in him blew a bubble of anticipation that couldn't be burst. That had been the consideration of being united with his mother. There was something about his mother that excited him, and he was unsure what - and it was quite strange, considering the fact that he hadn't been good around those he didn't know so well. It'd been a unique surge of energy and pleasure.
Within moments their feet reached the porch, and, abruptly after Brenden had knocked, the large door had been opened to reveal a boy who stood between their heights, with hands covered in beautifully scented body oil and a blemish that appeared to be a minor burn from the flicker of a candle. He politely nodded his head to compensate for him gasping for breath, presumably from sprinting across the large home to open the door. His voice was slow and calmed when he inquired, "You're here for Mother, right?" He anxiously swept feathered ash brown bangs from his eyes. "She's spoken about you. Please, come in."
