Tom Says :

I'm roaming the street, the dark one though. I parked my Cherokee on the corner of the crossroad. My name is Tom, but all people out there called me Tommy. Don't ever ask my last name.
I hate it. Simply hate it.

I miss some fresh air, life's sucks. The divorced parents was a nightmare, yet a cruel single parent dad make it worse now with his plan to get married (again). So I left home a week a go and now staying in my best friend house, Wesley Harold. He's been my friend since I was 3. Our parents are good friends, but his parents still stick together and live happily ever after. mine? don't ask.

This is a really cold and stiff night, but my leather jacket makes me feel much better. Alone? yes I am. Today is Wesley's mom birthday. They wanted to celebrate it in one of the best Japanese restaurants in town. They insisted me on going, but I refused. I didn't want to disturb anyone's happiness. Even now, I'm drowning in my own pain.

Starting from my fancy life, I can get everything I want. The newest car, the coolest shoes, the most prestigious occasion to go, the most happening party, even the prettiest girl... getting them is just a piece of cake, but I never do it. Cause what makes it easy is my last name, which I said before, I hate it.


I look around, what a quiet night.