House Of Zeus

Ethan Summers trudged up the driveway, his feet dragging through the gravel as he approached the imposing mansion that he'd grown to know as home, the Summer's resident estate.

The house loomed over him, slightly intimidating no matter how long he'd been in there. Or maybe, it wasn't the house as much as the people he knew were in it.

"Another day," he sighed dejectedly as he slung his bag across his shoulder and tried to wear a smile.

As he reached the front door, the voices from inside grew louder. He paused, his hand hovering over the doorknob, bracing himself for the inevitable harsh reception.

It was a pattern, one he'd lived with for the past one decade. He had gotten used to it, or so he told himself. But it didn't hurt any less.

He entered quietly, creaking the door shut as softly as he could and hoping to slip past unnoticed, but the shrill voice of his aunt, Margaret, pierced the air just as he was in the hallway.

"Ethan, is that you?" Margaret's voice was thick with annoyance, she always sounded as if his mere presence was an inconvenience.

Ethan winced and dropped on the soles of his feet as he sighed and walked into the living room. The place was furnished liberally, as was the rest of the estate. Artworks lined the walls and furniture were the best in the city.

"Ethan, didn't I just call you?" She said again, her voice this time clearly irritated.

Ethan walked to where his aunt sat on a plush couch, her perfectly manicured fingers wrapped around a glass of wine. "Yes, Aunt Margaret," he replied, his voice low, avoiding eye contact.

Margaret's eyes narrowed as she looked him over, her lips curling in disgust."You're late. Again," she snapped. "Where have you been?"

Ethan began to reply but she didn't even wait for that. She lifted her fingers, signaling him to stop.

"Don't waste my time and yours. We all know what you do with your time. You laze around while your brother works tirelessly to bring honor to this family."

Ethan swallowed, the words still stung despite their familiarity. "I was at work," he said simply.

"Work," Margaret scoffed, her voice filled with sarcasm. "That dead-end job of yours? Is that how you'll gain the experience you need to join the Summer's enterprise? It's no wonder you're such a disappointment."

Ethan's face flushed, but he remained silent. He knew better than to argue. His aunt's disdain for him had been a constant presence in his life, ever since his parents had died in that car accident when he was only seven. His uncle Richard and aunt Margaret had taken him in, but they had never treated him as one of their own.

Somehow, his older brother, Kyle, easily won their love and trust. He was the golden kid that they loved and were proud of and Ethan was an outsider, an unwanted obligation.

"Where's Kyle?" Ethan asked, trying to deflect the conversation. He'd learnt early enough that Aunt Margaret would rather talk about her favorite nephew than talk to him.