Dung is at least five years younger than every other boy on his team, and only half as tall. They're stronger and louder, but he's the fastest on the pitch. "It looks like you're flying," one of the guys says, slapping him on the back after they've won yet another game of football. They call him Icarus and lift him onto their shoulders when he scores during the game, and with his heart pounding against his chest and breath coming short and sweat beading down his neck, Dung's sure that that's who he actually is.
Icarus, he reads later that night, died because he didn't listen to his father.
Dung just shrugs and tucks the book back where it belongs in their library. His father hasn't been home in weeks. Daedalus at least cared enough about his son to stick around and warn him of the dangers of the sun - if he's got no one to warn him, then he's got no limits.
Flying's not his thing, but the pitch is his sky, and he'll keep running forever.
Gilderoy is ten years old and crying into his mum's dress as she argues with the dentist. "My son will not have orthodontia," she hisses. "It's unbecoming."
The dentist warns her repeatedly that, without treatment, the boy's teeth could become so much worse. His lisp is already- "Don't talk about his lisp," Gloria Lockhart says in a steely voice. "I'm quite done here." Gilderoy finds his hand enveloped in hers, and he keeps his head bent low as she drags him out of the office, tears still spilling from his huge blue eyes. He doesn't want ugly teeth, but the contraptions are terrifying. In the car, his mother reassures him that he won't have to have them, no matter what the silly man said
( ... )
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Icarus, he reads later that night, died because he didn't listen to his father.
Dung just shrugs and tucks the book back where it belongs in their library. His father hasn't been home in weeks. Daedalus at least cared enough about his son to stick around and warn him of the dangers of the sun - if he's got no one to warn him, then he's got no limits.
Flying's not his thing, but the pitch is his sky, and he'll keep running forever.
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The dentist warns her repeatedly that, without treatment, the boy's teeth could become so much worse. His lisp is already- "Don't talk about his lisp," Gloria Lockhart says in a steely voice. "I'm quite done here." Gilderoy finds his hand enveloped in hers, and he keeps his head bent low as she drags him out of the office, tears still spilling from his huge blue eyes. He doesn't want ugly teeth, but the contraptions are terrifying. In the car, his mother reassures him that he won't have to have them, no matter what the silly man said ( ... )
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