Writers: Expectations
Aug. 13th, 2009 11:14 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
spongetastic"You know, you always did make the mistake of being yourself."
Peter couldn't go anywhere in the house without seeing a college broshure. Although he appreciated the break from classes, he was starting to get tired of listening to representatives pitch their institutions. As if this last year of high school wasn't going to be busy enough, Peter had about thirty people trying to occupy the next four years of his life. And naturally the loudest voice among them was his father's.
Arthur Petrelli was never subtle about what he wished for his youngest son. It seemed like he always instilled law school as Peter's eventual destination. When Peter hit high school his father became much more obvious with his hints, and now that his son faced his last year in high school Arthur dropped the subject of law school at every opportunity.
At any other time Peter would've told his father point-blank he wasn't interested. But his father recently suffered a heart attack, and Peter was afraid to do anything that would upset the man. So he obediently looked through every broshure that passed his way and listened to his father talk lovingly of his alma marter. His heart wasn't in it but he knew how to fake it.
As tedious as it was to go through all the potential colleges, Peter did finally read about one that sparked his interest. He decided to check it out without his parents hovering around. No matter what he allowed his father to think, in the end it was going to be Peter's decision where he would go and what he would study.
Peter came home late that night, flirting with the very last minute of his curfew. Usually he didn't pay that much attention but once again his father's recent heart attack compelled him into better behavior. The moment he stepped inside the house he heard the very distinct sound of a throat being cleared. He cringed, unwillingly turning toward the noise.
"You're late, Peter," his father said.
"I still have ten minutes before my curfew," Peter argued. He tried to say so without sounding confrontational.
"Where were you?" It looked like his father was going to plow through the usual interrogation.
"I was taking a tour of a college," Peter answered honestly. That brightened his father's mood considerably. The man rose to his feet and actually smiled as he patted his son on the shoulder. Peter felt pleasantly surprised, though he couldn't help but feel a bit guilty at the same time.
"That's great, Peter. You're showing initiative; I'm proud of you." Peter bit his lip and lowered his eyes awkwardly. He couldn't remember his father ever saying those word to him before. They weren't meant for Peter; they were meant for a son who entered into the family business.
"It wasn't a law school, Dad," he said bluntly. "I don't want to go to law school, I never did." He could already see the smile dropping from his father's face to be replaced by the stern frown Peter knew best. And he knew it was only going to get worse. "I was thinking of going to medical school."
"Medical school," Arthur repeated, his face remaining passive.
"I've always been good with people," Peter explained. "If I'm a nurse I can make a difference in people's lives."
"A nurse?" This time the older man's face contorted in fury. Peter worried about the man's heart but couldn't lie to him about something this important.
"I'd be good at it," Peter insisted. "I can help people. I want to do this, Dad, and I'm going to no matter what you say." He knew he should be more gentle with his words but he also knew he found what he truly wanted.
"Well..." Arthur was steaming quietly, which Peter knew from experience as one of his more dangerous anger modes. "If my opinion doesn't matter we have nothing more to discuss." With that he turned his back on his son and headed up the stairs.
Peter didn't expect his father to be happy; his father rarely was when it came to Peter. But of course, Peter couldn't help that. This was who he was and nothing his father did could change it.
Peter couldn't go anywhere in the house without seeing a college broshure. Although he appreciated the break from classes, he was starting to get tired of listening to representatives pitch their institutions. As if this last year of high school wasn't going to be busy enough, Peter had about thirty people trying to occupy the next four years of his life. And naturally the loudest voice among them was his father's.
Arthur Petrelli was never subtle about what he wished for his youngest son. It seemed like he always instilled law school as Peter's eventual destination. When Peter hit high school his father became much more obvious with his hints, and now that his son faced his last year in high school Arthur dropped the subject of law school at every opportunity.
At any other time Peter would've told his father point-blank he wasn't interested. But his father recently suffered a heart attack, and Peter was afraid to do anything that would upset the man. So he obediently looked through every broshure that passed his way and listened to his father talk lovingly of his alma marter. His heart wasn't in it but he knew how to fake it.
As tedious as it was to go through all the potential colleges, Peter did finally read about one that sparked his interest. He decided to check it out without his parents hovering around. No matter what he allowed his father to think, in the end it was going to be Peter's decision where he would go and what he would study.
Peter came home late that night, flirting with the very last minute of his curfew. Usually he didn't pay that much attention but once again his father's recent heart attack compelled him into better behavior. The moment he stepped inside the house he heard the very distinct sound of a throat being cleared. He cringed, unwillingly turning toward the noise.
"You're late, Peter," his father said.
"I still have ten minutes before my curfew," Peter argued. He tried to say so without sounding confrontational.
"Where were you?" It looked like his father was going to plow through the usual interrogation.
"I was taking a tour of a college," Peter answered honestly. That brightened his father's mood considerably. The man rose to his feet and actually smiled as he patted his son on the shoulder. Peter felt pleasantly surprised, though he couldn't help but feel a bit guilty at the same time.
"That's great, Peter. You're showing initiative; I'm proud of you." Peter bit his lip and lowered his eyes awkwardly. He couldn't remember his father ever saying those word to him before. They weren't meant for Peter; they were meant for a son who entered into the family business.
"It wasn't a law school, Dad," he said bluntly. "I don't want to go to law school, I never did." He could already see the smile dropping from his father's face to be replaced by the stern frown Peter knew best. And he knew it was only going to get worse. "I was thinking of going to medical school."
"Medical school," Arthur repeated, his face remaining passive.
"I've always been good with people," Peter explained. "If I'm a nurse I can make a difference in people's lives."
"A nurse?" This time the older man's face contorted in fury. Peter worried about the man's heart but couldn't lie to him about something this important.
"I'd be good at it," Peter insisted. "I can help people. I want to do this, Dad, and I'm going to no matter what you say." He knew he should be more gentle with his words but he also knew he found what he truly wanted.
"Well..." Arthur was steaming quietly, which Peter knew from experience as one of his more dangerous anger modes. "If my opinion doesn't matter we have nothing more to discuss." With that he turned his back on his son and headed up the stairs.
Peter didn't expect his father to be happy; his father rarely was when it came to Peter. But of course, Peter couldn't help that. This was who he was and nothing his father did could change it.