FILE 13: MY BIRTHDAY IN SCOTLAND PART 1

"I'm renting a motorcycle, not a car, Mom. No, it's not dangerous. I drive below the speed limit. If I'm in an accident, it's not my fault but the other driver's. I'll be home in about two hours. Stop fussing." 

Mars and I had arrived at Glasgow Airport, and I called my mom to alert her to our arrival. We're staying for ten days at my parents' request. No complaints from me. Mars looked awkward in his new goggles and cat helmet. 

He kept getting ogled by the girl behind the Avis reception desk. Well, to be honest, he was cute. As we waited for the keys to my motorcycle rental, I let her play with him.

It took nearly an hour to receive the keys to my Honda CBR300R. The girl made baby noises to Mars when we departed, causing him to hiss at her. I guess treating a centuries-old being like a baby would be annoying. Heh, heh.

This would be Mars' first time riding a bike, since I took an Uber back in South Korea. Parking at the airport is not an option for me. 

"Hold on tight, Mars, and don't panic. I promise not to kill us," I said as I gently inserted him into the adjusted cat carrier.

"Not kill us? How about getting us home in one piece?" he protested. There is so much trust in me.

I gently drove out of the parking lot and out onto the highway. The wind whipped through my hair while I drove. If there was any screaming, I'm afraid I'm oblivious to it, as the wind was too loud.

I rode through the city to the countryside. Yeah, I'm a country kid. In any case, I'm healthier than all the city kids in the world combined. Currently, my destination is Newton Mearns, East Renfrewshire. I was born and raised there.

My house is just on the edge of town. As you surmised, I am from a prominent family. We're not extremely wealthy, but we are rather well off.

My childhood home has three thousand square feet, four bedrooms, three bathrooms, a living room, a large kitchen, two floors, and a tower. 

In the yard, there's a barn that's used for a private Otherworld investigator affair, and our pet horse. I turned onto Fingal Avenue and my house came into view.

"Look at you! I barely recognise you. Look, honey. Our son has completely changed!" I barely shut off the ignition when my mom attacked me from behind. She's smaller than me, but let me tell you, she has a strong grip.

I tried my best to untangle her as I greeted my parents.

"Hi Mom. Energetic as usual. Hi Dad. Grim as always. Yeah, this is the real Mars. Can I go inside now?" 

The date is the second of August. My duel is tomorrow, and I want to rest up and beautify myself before my match. 

"Aw. We don't see you so often. I can't understand your aversion to social media. Dad uses it. Why won't you? You can chat face-to-face, you know?" Mom fussed.

"Because people can hack into your personal information through it. Do you know how many ended up miserable because of one tiny mishap?" I scolded her. 

"Don't be so paranoid. There are many apps that can counter hackers."

"Exactly. There are many. Why? Because there are more and more dangers to social media. I'd rather be safe than sorry."

"Don't worry, Amelia. He's on YouTube," Mars said spitefully. I scowled and thumped his head. "Stupid cat." 

"Don't hit him, son. You shouldn't disrespect your mentor," Dad reprimanded me. Welcoming, as always. "Hey Dad, is my room ready? What's for lunch? I'm hungry."

"Unfilial boy. We haven't changed your room since Christmas. We'll eat after you settle. Come, Amelia. Let's leave the boy alone." Mom hugged me before leaving with my dad. 

I was born in the tower, where all McNeill children are born, but I grew up on the western side of the house. My room was a large boy's room.

Empty except for the furniture and posters. During my time in South Korea, I added a few ornaments to my room, making it completely tasteful.

Mars leapt out of the carrier as I set him down and scratched himself furiously. I laughed as I unpacked. 

It was nearly two pm as we proceeded to the dining hall for lunch. At the dining table, there was a gorgeous spread. The housekeeper made all my favourites. Scotch Pies, Haggis, Neeps and Tatties Cock-a-Leekie Soup, and Cranachan for dessert. 

My dad made a toast before we started. "To Nathan, who has become a magnificent investigator. You always pull through, even though I'm vexed at you at times. Well done, my son. Cheers!" 

"Cheers!" We all gulped down our beer, or in my mom's case, wine.

I don't remember much afterwards. It was very foggy. I remember my dad complaining that my reports were too personal.

Mom laughed hysterically the whole time before passing out. I woke up the next morning in my bed with Mars sleeping beside me. 

I squinted groggily at the wall clock. It was only five-thirty am. Dammit. When I wanted to prepare for the competition, I slept through the whole afternoon and evening. Things are just not going as planned.

Mom was already up and moving around when I dragged myself to say hello. "Happy Birthday, dear. Bridget made a special breakfast for you."

She smiled fondly and said, "There's also some homemade hangover cure she made." I nodded, winced, and left for breakfast.

Bridget was our housekeeper, one of three employees my parents hired to maintain the house. The second was a gardener, Duncan, and lastly, a handyman, Logan. 

I drank my hangover cure as fast as I could. I pulled a face in disgust. It tasted horrible, then I wolfed down my delicious breakfast. Mars appeared while I ate, pulling a plate towards him, and filling it with meat.

"Happy Birthday, Nathan."

"Angs," I said.

Dad joined us later, grimacing. "You have more of Bridget's cure?" I pushed my half-drunk mug towards him. He swiped it, swung his head back, and gulped it all down.

He pulled a face as he wiped his mouth. "Tastes like crap, but it works. Give me some of those eggs, will you? I need something to get rid of this taste."

After a few minutes, my special breakfast disappeared, and Bridget brought out coffee. She had aged heavily since I left for Korea, but she was still cheerful.

"'Ere yer go, sir. 'Omemade coffee from yers truly. An' a 'appy Birthday to yer!" Man. I miss her thick Scottish accent.

"Thanks Bridget. Are you coming to the competition?"

"Eh? No, I can't. I'm mighty busy. Sorry, Nathan," she apologised. I felt a bit disappointed. "Oh, okay then." 

"You can't expect everyone to be at your beck and call, Nathan. This is a very large house, and not everyone can play like you do," Dad said bitingly. I snapped.

"I'm not playing! Do you think I played when I nearly died a while ago? I'm trying my best out there, but I guess you think that's playing."

I stood abruptly, shaking the table. "I'm leaving the house for a while. I'm probably just in everyone's way anyway." After throwing my tantrum, I stomped away.