boy's life (MMM.../MMM...)

[sock slave boy]

Théo’s Journal – Chapter 1: First Day in Opal City

My name is Théo Sullivan, I’m 11 years old, I’ve got a turbo brain and an almost too intense obsession with LEGO Technic, robots, retro video games, and weird space stuff. Basically, I’m a little genius (not my words—okay maybe I slightly forced my 3rd-grade teacher to say it).

And today... BOOM. New start. New city. New school. New me? Uh… we’ll see.

Last night, we landed in Opal City in full “move of the year” mode. My dad, my two brothers, and me, with a truck bursting at the seams and zero organization. The only thing I wanted was to find my LEGOs, my VR headset, and my Starhawk 5000 spaceship (made of cardboard but insanely detailed, thank you very much).

We unpacked boxes until super late (mostly me, the others looked like zombies). Result: I fell asleep on the floor, no pajamas, no blanket, window wide open—frozen burrito style. In the morning, I was a cryogenically frozen mummy, like I’d spent the night in a freezer. Lovely.

I jolted awake, hugging my pillow like an energy shield, ready to fight off a zombie attack. Blink. New ceiling. New walls. New room. No decor (yet).

I rushed to the mirror. Yikes. Horror show: hair like a level-F5 tornado, panda eyes, underwear two sizes too small. Total mental panic moment. What if someone walked in while I was sleeping?!

And then, as if my thoughts had summoned him: BAM, the door flew open at lightspeed.

— “Son? You awake?”

It was Dad. Casual mode, coffee in hand, smug smile on his face. He looked at me, paused, and…

— “You know, I’ve already seen what you’re hiding under there. No need to cover up now.”

I grabbed the towel he tossed me (thanks, ninja reflexes) and wrapped it around me like a Jedi of shame. Dad laughed even harder. He’s like that: part space mission commander, part sweet dad, with green eyes that glow in the dark (kinda creepy, honestly).

— “Meet me in the kitchen. I want to talk to you guys before school.”

And poof—gone. Like a ninja too.

I stumbled into the hallway, still half-asleep, towel clutched like a superhero cape. Noah, my 7-year-old little brother, was asleep standing up against the wall, clinging to his blue stuffed toy (his name’s Bue, king of all plushies). He wore unicorn pajamas. Or was it a dinosaur? Artistic blur.

Gabriel, my big brother, stomped out of his room groaning about his alarm, hair looking like he’d stuck his finger in an outlet, growling like a bear. He’s strong, stubborn, grumpy—but deep down he’s a giant teddy bear. A giant teddy bear with abs.

Then Dad yelled like a cartoon general:

— “UP AND AT ‘EM, SOLDIERS! It’s the first day of school, no mercy for sleepyheads!”

We groaned in unison. Like a choir of despair.

— “I know it’s hard, but you’re gonna love it here,” he added in his nostalgic-dad voice.
“Opal City is magical. I grew up here. Forests, beaches, secret spots… You’ll see.”

Then he whipped out a schedule. Worse than a NASA mission chart.

— “Théo, your first class is at 8. But you need to stop by the office first. Your bus comes between 7 and 7:30. If you miss it... you walk.”

(Needless to say, I stared at the clock like my life depended on it.)

He caught Noah just as he was literally falling over. Then he pointed at me like an imperial commander.

— “You—shower. Now. I’ll handle breakfast!”

I dashed to the bathroom, hyperspace mode: ON. Once the door was shut, I dropped the towel. The mirror showed me a crumpled-up Théo, in striped underwear, looking like a gamer who stayed up too late.

I sighed. Okay. First day. New school. New… everything.
And then the existential question hit me: Am I ready?

The hot water woke me up like a cosmic hug. My brain started wandering: what if I joined a secret club? A team of hackers? A group of scientists on a top-secret mission?

My imagination was partying while I washed my hair.

After the shower, I put on my academy uniform: white shirt, black jacket, shorts, knee-high socks, tie.
And the most crucial detail: my white underwear with red trim. Because heroes always choose their armor carefully.

In the kitchen, Dad greeted me with a plate of eggs. Warm. Golden. Practically holy.

— “How are you always the first one ready?”

I shrugged—Organization +1000.

Gabriel dragged himself in, still half-asleep, eyes barely open. Dad tossed him a plate too.

— “Your bus comes in 30 minutes.”

— “PLENTY of time,” Gabe grumbled. Always the optimist, that guy.

I inhaled my eggs, eyes fixed on the window. A new day. A new mission. A new adventure.

Dad patted my shoulder.

— “Son, your bus will be here soon. Time to go.”

My heart jumped. I grabbed my bag, my ID, my notebooks. I ran to the door, short of breath, thoughts all over the place…

Opal City, here I come. Get ready.

[60Cancer]

High hopes for adventure here.

[sock slave boy]

Théo’s Journal – Chapter 2: The Jungle and the Friendship Bus

This morning, I was on a mission. Like, a real mission. Top-secret type. Objective: reach the bus stop before 7:27 without walking into a pole or forgetting my bus pass. My backpack was bouncing on my back like an overexcited mini-robot, my legs were running on their own, and my brain was in full environment-scan mode.

And then… CRRRSHHH.

A noise. A weird noise. Coming from the bushes, right next to my house. My heart did a somersault. My neurons activated faster than in a Nebula Knight battle. I thought of a bunch of stuff. Like:

A mutant rat.

A spy from the future.

A carnivorous pigeon with teeth.
(Yeah, I’ve got an overtrained imagination. But you can never be too careful with pigeons.)

I turned around, ready to defend myself with my backpack like a laser shield, and BAM: TWO EYES.
Two eyes hidden in the leaves. Two eyes staring RIGHT AT ME.

I swallowed hard (like, gloups-style), and the creature in the bushes leapt out with all the grace of a level 1000 landing fail. It slipped on a root or some gross wet thing and crashed into the dead leaves with a sound like crushed chips.

— “Ouch!” the creature groaned.

But actually… it wasn’t a creature. It was a boy. A boy my age, with cheeks so red they looked like sunburnt tomatoes in the middle of December.
He lifted his head out of the bushes, like “I swear this isn’t what it looks like,” and stammered:

— “Hey… uh… sorry. You’re one of the new kids, right? I was watching you. I mean—not in a creepy way! I just wanted to see if you were going to Preston Middle School. ‘Cause I go there too. Yeah.”

And then… he laughed. A weird laugh. Like a glitchy laugh, the kind your computer makes when it crashes just before you save your game.

He had wild blond hair like after an intergalactic battle, green eyes that sparkled like in a magical RPG, and super pale skin, like “I’ve lived in a Minecraft cave with no torches for three centuries.”

— “I’m Lucas. Nice to meet you!” he said, holding out his hand.

And then… I saw it.
His shirt.
Tucked.
Into.
His.
UNDERWEAR.

I swear. It was impossible to miss. It was the fashion disaster of the century. My eyes noticed it before my brain did, and I burst out laughing. I couldn’t help it. A full-on laugh. The kind that hurts your belly.

— “Dude, your shirt…” I managed to say between hiccups.

Lucas turned bright red, yanked on his shirt like it was on fire, and muttered something like “Great job, Lucas, so subtle, you’re the world champion of awkward.”

But instead of running away, he looked at me with this panicky little expression. Then he exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for ten minutes straight.

— “I swear I’m not crazy. Just… a little nervous.”

I shook his hand (because I don’t forget basic manners, even after a scene like that), still laughing.

— “I like weird people. Especially ones that come out of bushes. That’s a classy entrance.”

And then, he smiled for real. A real smile. A bit shy, but honest.

We waited for the bus together. Lucas talks A LOT. Like, seriously, a lot. He’s like a computer with 25 tabs open at the same time, all playing videos in loops. But he was a friendly chatterbox. A little jumpy, a little weird, but funny. I could tell right away—this was the kind of guy who ends up being the hero’s best friend in every show.

When the bus came, we got on together. I headed straight for the back of the bus. That’s where everything happens—everyone knows that. It’s the HQ of middle school life.

Across from me, a small kid with glasses shot me a quick glance. Like, security scan mode activated. He was clutching a white backpack like it was a military-grade safe full of top-secret files. It said Ben on it.

He had brown hair, sad-looking eyes, and the vibe of a shy ninja trying to blend into the background. Like, “I’m furniture, I’m invisible, I’m air…”

I was about to talk to him (I mean, we might end up in the same class), when…

BOOM.

A giant climbed onto the bus. No joke, he looked like the final boss of a video game. He was easily twice my size. He walked straight toward Ben, sat next to him, and the bus shook. I think the driver even checked his mirror with a shiver.

— “BENNY BOY! You’re alive! I thought aliens got you!”

Without warning, the giant grabbed Ben’s bag, slammed it against the window, and twisted his arm like an old game controller.

— “No, Michael… I… Ouch!” said Ben.

Michael. Just his name was already a red flag. He was huge, with long black hair, tan skin, predator-cool eyes, and the smile of a hungry wolf.

And then…
LIKE IN AN ANIME…

A mini-hero appeared.

— “HALT, EVIL DEMON!” shouted a voice.

A kid (smaller than me!) jumped into the aisle. Spiky hair. Fiery eyes. Arms raised. He looked like a manga paladin, ready to save the planet with the power of justice.

— “I will not let you harm the innocent, Michael! GOOD SHALL PREVAIL!”

Michael burst out laughing. Like, full villain-mode laughter.

— “Carter… still as dramatic as ever, huh?”

And BAM. He grabbed Carter, pulled his shirt over his head, wedged him between two seats, and left his red camouflage underwear on full display for the entire bus.

— “BAAABY CARTER! Always ready to save the world, never ready to save his dignity!”

I looked around. Total silence. Nobody moved.
Seriously? Everyone thought this was normal?!

So I stood up. I took my digital warrior stance. I unleashed my hero glare, ready to hack the universe.

— “Hey. You’re not allowed to do that.”

Michael looked at me. Smirking. He scanned me like a boss analyzing a noob’s weaknesses.

— “The new kid wants to be a hero? Wanna see if you wear baby underwear too?”

I clenched my fists, ready to launch a special combo attack… when the driver yelled:

— “SIT DOWN OR I’M CALLING THE PRINCIPAL!”

Michael winked at me. Like, to be continued…, and slouched into his seat like nothing had happened.

I sighed. Warrior-sigh, like I just avoided the final battle, and sat next to Ben. He was shaking a bit, but he smiled at me. A tiny smile.

— “Thanks…” he whispered.

— “You okay?” I asked.

He nodded.

— “Michael’s always been like that since we were kids. I hope he won’t come after you now.”

I shrugged.

— “I’ve already beaten all the secret levels of Nebula Knight on hardcore mode. Michael’s like… intermediate level.”

Ben chuckled a little. Mission “cheer up” activated.

He told me I reminded him of Carter. But more effective.
Come on—that’s a pretty awesome compliment.

— “I’m Théo.”

— “Benjamin. But everyone calls me Ben.”

And then Carter finally escaped from his seat prison. Tomato-red face, but head held high. He fixed his shirt, his pants, his honor.

— “Justice defeated… but not destroyed,” he said.

It was ridiculous… and kind of awesome.

The rest of the ride was calmer. Ben was still a little shy, but he listened while I told him stories about drones, video games, and my calculator that speaks Klingon. (For real.)

And then the bus stopped. We got off…

…and then…

WOW.

[sock slave boy]

Theo’s Journal – Chapter 3: Welcome to Preston Academy

Today was the REAL beginning. The solemn moment—like the prologue of an epic movie—when the hero steps into the unknown. Spoiler: I stepped in with both feet… before wiping out like a pancake.

The bus stopped in front of Preston Boys’ Academy. And I swear, it looked like we’d arrived at a magical castle for overly serious boys.

Two stories tall, white-and-grey walls looking spotless, and huge banners with purple and gold dragons fluttering like they were silently judging us from the Middle Ages. There was a sports field big enough to land a spaceship, an Olympic-sized pool, a gym that could host the Avengers, and a theater… a REAL theater, with red curtains and a royal balcony.

Basically, I was full-on “Wooooaaaah” mode, mouth open, brain glitching from admiration…

…and right at that moment—BAM!

Someone ran straight into me at full speed. We flew, rolled, and landed in a human pile on the ground. Perfect synchronized double fall. Artistic score: 10/10.

— “Ouch!” the guy said.

But he was laughing, so I figured it was a no-injury crash (just a bit of dust and a lot of embarrassment).

I looked at him. Messy hair, a huge smile like he was in a cosmic toothpaste ad, and his shoelaces were full-on rebellion.

He tried to stand up, fell over twice (I almost clapped), then reached out his hand.

— “I’m Jackson! First day for me too. The teachers thought I’d never finish ninth grade… well guess what, guys? IN YOUR FACE.”

He gave off full triple-A-battery-on-caramel energy. A total whirlwind. He dusted off my shorts (not his, of course), then casually dropped:

— “Everyone’s talking about you. Apparently Preston NEVER accepts new kids mid-year. You and one other guy—total UFOs.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I just smiled. System crash: Theo version.

Then, as if it were totally normal, he said he was going to try climbing the tallest tree in the courtyard. Morning routine, no big deal.

He was about to run off when I noticed his laces were still in full freedom mode. I sighed. And guess what? I tied them for him while he told me about his record of seven falls in one day. This guy’s a chaotic kind soul.

He hugged me like we’d known each other since preschool (didn’t even have time to say “I’m not a hugger”).

— “Thanks, Theo! If you wanna hang out at recess, come find me!”

And off he went. Running. And this time—he didn’t fall. HERO.

I walked toward the academy’s big doors, legs a little shaky, and stepped into the South Hall.

And… WOW.

Rows of lockers in purple and gold, a trophy case that sparkled like something out of Harry Potter, and photos of students winning everything—sports, theater, math, music… I felt like a little alien landing on a planet of buff geniuses.

I was just about to make a beeline to the main office when a way-too-calm voice stopped me:

— “Hold on a second.”

I turned around. A guy, perfectly groomed, uniform spotless, gaze like he could judge your entire life in 0.3 seconds.

He held out his hand with a polite but mildly threatening smile.

— “Xavier Richards. Class rep. Nice to meet you.”

He shook my hand… too hard. Like he was testing if my bones could handle Preston. Then he scanned me head to toe and dropped:

— “You're not what I expected. Interesting.”

Before I could say anything, another boy walked past us—messy red hair, dragging a too-big backpack, eyes like he was already tired of life.

Xavier frowned, stopped him with one arm, and said something ice-cold:

— “Thomas. You could at least try.”

The redhead (Thomas, I guess) didn’t say anything. Looked like he’d heard that a thousand times before. But the vibe? Straight-up Western showdown. I swear I heard an invisible harmonica.

Xavier turned back to me, still staring at Thomas.

— “At Preston, appearance is everything. Choose the right friends, the right outfit… or good luck surviving.”

Then he shoved Thomas into the lockers. Hard. And walked off like an action hero walking away from an explosion.

I acted like I hadn’t seen anything. But inside? Instant stomach knot.

I made it to the main office, a little shaky, where I was greeted by Madame Bronte. Deep voice. Piercing stare. Basically a human dragon. A dragon with a tight bun and glasses that see into your soul.

She had me sign a giant book (felt like a magic grimoire), then told me to wait in the principal’s office.

I went in. Huge room. Dark wood floors, walls lined with books, and a giant desk worthy of Dumbledore… and then—a hand grabbed my shoulder out of nowhere.

I screamed like a panicked seagull.

Then a man stepped into view. Serious eyes. Furrowed brow. Intense stare.

— “What are you doing here, young man?”

I started mumbling something like “I-don’t-know-I-swear-I-didn’t-do-anything,” when he burst out laughing.

— “Sorry, Theo! Your dad told me to give you a little scare. I may have… taken it too far.”

It was the principal, Alistair Constantine. Tall. Elegant. Slightly terrifying, but actually nice. Also—an alum. With my dad. They were classmates. And now I’m here. Legacy torch: lit.

He showed me an old photo of them as kids. My dad looked exactly like me. Like, freaky-level alike. Mini identity crisis activated.

Then the other “new kid” arrived: Félix Allard.

French accent. Crisp, ironed T-shirt. Slightly shy look, but ultra-polite smile. He almost kissed the principal on the cheek.

— “In France, it’s a sign of respect!” he said, charming but clearly lost.

I laughed. So did he. We talked a bit, and he showed me how to do a “French movie kiss”—you know, air kisses. Kinda awkward… but not unpleasant. Just… different.

Some boys walked by in the hallway and dropped some dumb comments. Félix laughed, but I saw in his eyes—it stung. He already knew they were gonna slap the “weird” label on him.

Before leaving, he winked at me and said with a smirk:

— “I think you’d make a good boyfriend.”

I froze. Nuclear blush blast straight to the ears. He walked off like it was no big deal.

— “Lunch together?”

I just nodded. Like a glitched robot.

And me? I was left standing there in the hallway, thoughts galloping like wild horses.

This was only the beginning. And I’m not sure I’m ready.

But I’m here. And whatever happens…

I’m going to survive Preston.