Chapter Text
It was his birthday and school picture day. He had to look perfect, so he got up early, took a full shower and his best jeans and leather jacket were waiting for him in his closet.
He wanted to make a good impression on the football team so he could invite them to his birthday party. After several attempts by Stede to convince him to go to the try outs, he managed to get in. He was the new guy, the worst thing that could ever happen to a teenager. So his next goal was to socialize with the others, especially Izzy, the best player on the team, although they didn't seem very open to the idea.
Ed sighed in front of the bathroom mirror as he shaved what little hair he had on his chin, while listening to Kate Bush from the stereo. He didn't notice his mom's intrusion with the video camera nor did he know how long she stood there recording him.
"Tell us about your new life as a teenager!"
"Mom!" Ed startled and accidentally cut himself on the cheek.
"What did you do? You don't even have a mustache!"
He could feel himself blushing with embarrassment and walked out of the bathroom, straight to his room. "Go away!" He slammed the door and quickly got dressed. He looked in the mirror and noticed the wound bleeding, so he looked for a rag. His mom came into the room and grabbed the towel to help him, tapping lightly to clean the blood.
"Oh, honey, what's wrong?" Ed didn't answer and avoided her gaze. He pulled away and hid in his sheets.
His mom smiled and lay down next to him, lifting the sheet. "Ed, it's going to be alright."
"It is not, Mom! Look at me!" He pointed to his chin hurt from shaving. "This is not okay. This is fatal."
"It's not fatal, honey. It's realistic." She continued to clean his wound.
"I hate my life."
His mom sighed. "Just because you don't look like these boys in Bold magazine doesn't mean that you're not handsome in your own way."
Ed jumped up and grabbed his magazines scattered on his bed. He flipped through one with Michael Jackson on the cover and held it out to her. "I don't wanna be handsome in my own way! I wanna look like these people." He went on to show her the pages full of models and articles about masculinity.
"Oh, those aren't people, honey. Those are models." She stroked his cheek and stood up to grab a band-aid and put it on. Seeing that his clothes were wrinkled, she smoothed them with her hands and combed his curly hair with her hands. Ed was still immersed in reading until he saw his favorite article. The page showed a man in a suit, well groomed and seated in an elegant armchair, staring into the camera. He ran his fingers over the photo and smiled.
"Thirty, flirty and thriving. Why the thirties are the best years of your life." Ed turned to look at his mom. "I wanna be thirty."
She just laughed. "Well, you will be, honey. But right now you're my beautiful thirteen-year-old that´s running late for school.”
Ed rolled his eyes and finished getting ready.