3 Chapter 2

By 11:53 AM, John finished cleaning the house and putting away the cleaned clothes and bedspread. The house sparkled in his eyes. No more sticky floors, nasty sink water, dirty dishes, smelly clothes and ants infestation. To John, this was the best he had ever cleaned before. In the corner of his eye, he spotted the drawer that hid the picture frame of his mother's photos. The thoughts of what Madam Sarah said, came back to him. 

"Did I ever get over mother's death?" John asked himself as he pulled open the drawer. "Only one way to find out, I guess."

That specific drawer held only the photos of his mother. At the time of her death, the pain felt when he saw her face, was too much for him to handle.

"You look so beautiful, Mom." 

John wiped away the dust from the frame. This was monumental for John, it was the first time in over seven years he looked at a picture of his mother. His eyes became watery but he didn't cry. The cherished memories he had with his mother came back to him. 

On the days he didn't want to go to school, she would always promise to buy him ice cream at the end of the week, or take him and Dad to the movies. She would cook him whatever he wanted for dinner, every Wednesday. The songs she would sing him at night, when he was scared of monsters, remained in his mind to this day.

"Mom," John hugged the picture close to his heart. "I miss you so damn much."

"Knock! Knock!" Someone banged at the door.

"Yow! John! Your Pops' home!" 

John put down the picture frame next to all the photos of him and his Dad.

"Gimme a sec!" John shouted.

As John opened the door, the face his father made when he saw him, went from a smile to pure confusion. 

"Dad it's nice to–"

"Oh, My bad kiddo! Must've knocked on the wrong door." He interrupted John and began walking away with his suitcase. "Am I on the wrong floor?"

"Wait! Dad, come back. It's me, your son."

"I'm sorry kid, but I only loved one woman my entire life." He continued walking. "But I hope you find him soon." 

John's Dad was being dead serious. He truly couldn't recognize John.

"I'm not lying, Dad! It's me, John. Your son." 

Mr Goldbloom stopped walking and looked at John in disbelief.

"Okay, bud," He rolled his eyes. "I believe you."

"Really?!" John smiled. 

"Sure I do. Why not? I mean… you look exactly like him." He spoke in a sardonic tone.

"You're being sarcastic aren't you?" John's shoulders dropped and a sigh left his mouth.

"Who me? No way. You look exactly like my short and fat son." 

During his sarcastic sentence, he pulled out his phone and called the contact "Son".

"Verm! Verm! Verm!" 

John's phone vibrated in his pocket. Immediately, he pulled it out and answered, while making direct eye contact with his Dad. 

"Do you believe me now?" 

John's Dad took a stepped back in disbelief.

"YOU'RE JOHN!!! Bu… but how? You were so fat and short one month ago. I even planned to force you to lose weight. How'd this happen?"

"Ah, I don't know either, but I'm glad to see you." John felt a huge load fall off his shoulders.

"Well, don't just stand there." He opened his arms. "Come give your old man a hug!" 

John ran to his dad and hugged him tightly. Deep down, he desperately needed this.

"I missed you so much." 

"I missed you too, son." 

Mr Goldbloom caught a whiff of John's body odour.

"Oh, God! Hurk! Hurk! I'm gonna vomit. Hurk!"

Mr Goldbloom pushed John away from him.

"Why?! What happened?!" John sounded worried.

"You smell like week-year-old sweat mixed with smelly socks and unwashed nutsacks. When was the last time you bathed, John."

Greg Goldbloom, John's father, had an extremely strong sense of smell paired with an easily upset stomach. Also, he was a clean freak. That was one of the reasons why John was so panicked over the dirty house. If his Dad walked in at least an hour earlier, he would projectile vomit everywhere at just the sight of the mess, before going berserker mode on his ass cheeks with a belt.

"Come on… I don't smell that bad... do I?"

John took a huge sniff at his underarm. He nearly vomited like his father. How did he not realize this earlier? 

"John, go take a bath, NOW!" Mr Goldbloom spoke in a commanding tone.

"Yes sir!"

Wasting no time, he ran back into the house and jumped into the shower. He was so busy cleaning the house, that he forgot to clean himself. Mr Goldbloom carried his luggage into the apartment. Upon entering, he looked around the place. He was happy to be back home, where he belonged.

"Hehe! I bet that boy only started cleaning this morning." He giggled to himself. 

Out of everything in the house, there was one thing that boldly stood out to him. There was a picture of his deceased wife, placed atop the dresser along with the pictures of him and his son.

"So, you're finally moving on, John... About dang time, kiddo." 

While John was still in the shower, he tried making conversation with his father.

"Dad, how's the trip?" 

"Great! My brothers and sisters were so welcoming. We talked and laughed about the past a lot. Oh, the good old days."

"How was uncle Errol? Is he still a jokester?"

"You know him. Always cracking his jokes. You can't separate the two. Although, his smoking addiction has gotten better."

"That's great, and how about Aunty Erma? Is she still dropping her elbow in her cooking?"

"Is she?! You know she can't stop throwing down in the kitchen. That barbeque chicken was smacking! I'm getting hungry just thinking about it."

"I can already taste it. Aunty Erma has hands seasoned by God himself."

John stepped out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his head and in clean clothes.

Mr Goldbloom looked at John and shook his head. 

"Haa! John, You need some new clothes." Mr Goldbloom let out an exaggerated sigh. 

"Come on, Dad. It's not THAT bad... I think."

John's shirt looked like a stretched-out crop top and his shorts were overbearingly baggy.

"Get to the truck. We're going shopping." 

"Haaa! Fine…"

Leaving the apartment, they got into the truck and made their way to the nearest mall, while singing along to old school Hip Hop songs.

"Here's my card. Pick out whatever you want, then let's head to the food court nearby. But don't go overboard." 

"Alright, I'll be quick." John slid the card into his pocket.

John slowly walked down the aisles, inspecting each article of clothing.

"What size am I now?" 

One of the store's assistants approached the undecided John.

"Excuse me, sir." 

"Gah!" 

John, startled at her sudden appearance, twitched on spot.

"Oh, my bad. Sorry if I scared you," She politely apologised.

"Don't worry about it. I'm just jumpy at times when I'm out in public."

"Hehe! Social anxiety, I see." She smiled. 

John started blushing a little from her cute chuckle.

The assistant wore a simple blue t-shirt that had the name of the store printed slightly above her chest. Her hair was shoulder-length, straight, with two braids hanging in the front.

"Do you need any help picking out some clothes?" 

"Yeah! How'd, you know?"

"It's my job, sir."

"Oh, yeah, you're right. That was a silly question. My bad."

John wanted to bury himself in the deepest grave for asking a dumb question like that.

"What's the occasion? Party? Dinner? Beach?"

"Umm… School, actually." 

Her beauty made John feel extremely nervous.

"If it's school, then you're going to need a fashionable look." She pulled out a bunch of T-shirts and Khaki pants. "Try these on in the changing room."

John clutched the pile of clothes in his arms and carefully walked his way to the nearby changing room. Sliding into the clothes, he looked at himself in the mirror. 

"Is this how it's supposed to be worn?" 

John awkwardly twisting and turning, checking out the clothes on his slender body. It was his first time wearing nice-looking clothes like these. When he was fat, there were almost no clothes in his size. 

"Do you like it?" 

"Uhh… Yeah, I guess."

"Step out so I can see too."

John stepped out in a white Polo shirt and hazel coloured khaki pants. 

Her eyes widen in amazement.

"OMG! It fits you so well, even better than I thought it would."

"Thanks, but I'm not sure if this style fits me."

"Fits you?! It was made for you!" 

She grabbed another fit and handed it to John. 

"Try these fast. You have a bunch more you need to get through." 

She was being oddly passionate, even more than what was required for work.

Locking the door behind him, he sighed. Just being around her made his heart skip a beat. 

What could he say? He was just a teenage boy who caught feelings way too easily. There was once a time he became heavily depressed when his waifu in an anime died. He didn't eat for two days straight. 

"How… is it?"

"Beyond splendid! The way you made such a basic, red button-up, stripe shirt look so good with that navy blue khaki, is unbelievable!" 

Her eyes were deeply examining John in the clothes. 

"Have you ever considered modelling? If not, you should. You'd make a great model."

"Oh, really? Ah… well… thanks for the compliment."

John couldn't help but blush.

"Next up, is this red and black leatherman jacket, along with some denim jeans and a grey undershirt." 

She flung the articles of clothing at John to catch. This took John by surprise, and he almost didn't catch them.

"Hurry on now! There's more for you to try on." She rushed him along.

"Sorry, my bad." He weirdly apologised.

Very soon after, John slipped on the clothes. They felt odd to him. It was his first time, in many years, being able to wear jeans. All being said, it looked nice. John stepped out of the changing room once more.

She stared at him puzzled, then said, "Hmm! Something about the way you wear it… just seems off. Let me fix it." 

She stepped towards John, pulled the shirt out of the jeans, popped open the buttons on the jacket and then, pulled the undershirt out of the pants. Her face was close to John's and he was sweating in discomfort, face red. Never before in his life, had he ever been so close to the opposite sex.

"Ha! Now that's much better." She took a few steps back and glowed, posturing her hands on her hips, looking satisfied.

"I'm sorry… but… I'm not sure if this style is for me." John felt uncertain in himself.

"Not for you?!" She looked at John in pure disbelief and scepticism. "You're kidding, right?" 

Her sudden change in expression frightened the weak-minded John. 

"Ah! No… what I mean is… that… umm…" 

John struggled to find the right words to explain himself. He began fiddling with his right ear and staring at the floor. 

"I've just never worn clothes like this before… so… umm… I just don't think it fits someone like me." John finally managed to express himself.

"Haaa!" She released an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes. "It's the insecurities for me." 

John just stood there, holding his arm and avoiding eye contact. Never had he needed to express himself this much while being overly nervous to the core. 

"Hey, what's your name?" 

"Ah… um… John. My name is John Goldbloom."

She walked up close to John and gently turned his face to hers, and said. "Hello, John. My name is Anna." 

"Anna… ah… That's a… that's a nice name." John awkwardly answered.

She was very close to John. Her soft, smooth hands held his face and he was blatantly blushing even more. Even in this situation, he kept trying to avoid eye contact with her.

"John. Would you mind following me for a bit?" She asked in a soft and charming tone.

"Sure… I don't mind." John, being flustered, agreed.

"Come with me." 

Anna held John's hand and pulled him along until she reached a full body mirror. Anna put John to stand in front of the mirror. She pulled his shoulders back, forcing him to stand up straight, and lifted his chin to look forward and not down as he usually would.

"Look at you!" Anna patted him on the back. "Now you look more manly and not so spineless like before." 

John's entire body felt awkward from his new posture.

"John, let me tell you something that I had to learn for myself growing up. Society's standard of beauty is fragile and self-destructive." 

Anna held the back of John's right hand and positioned it on his chest. 

"But the real beauty comes from within. And once you have that within you, no one can take it away from you, unless you let them."

Anna's words planted a tiny seed of confidence and hope, within John's feeble heart that day.