Niall sat on a sturdy old bench situated at the front porch of his parent’s farmhouse.
Dressed in his father’s old clothes, a bowl of cereal in his palms, he simply took in the sights.
A soft breeze rustled through the orange trees and the grape orchard, the chirping of crickets echoing quietly in the warmth of the morning sun.
Faint rays cascaded through the clear skies, bathing the entire ranch in a soft, golden glow.
Yesterday, after he had arrived, it hadn’t taken long before he’d practically shut down in his parents embrace.
Though Niall hadn’t felt physically tired at the time, he could only attribute it to the emotional toll seeing his parents well and truly alive after so long had put on him.
When he’d eventually woken up at dawn, he’d found himself in his room, laying on his bed. And neatly placed on the tail edge of his bed, had been the clothes he was wearing now.
A red checkered shirt and faded blue jeans.
Taking a spoonful out of the bowl, Niall’s ears accurately picked up the moment his parents woke up, stumbled from their bedroom, through the house, into his room, meandered for a bit, and finally moved towards the front doors.
Swallowing another spoonful, the doors opened as both figures slowly made their way down the steps of the porch and proceeded to sit next to him--his father on his right, and his mother on his left.
"Morning, Pa. Morning, Ma." Niall greeted politely to which they responded in kind, their distinct Appalachian southern accent on full display;
"Mornin’, Son."
"Mornin’, Darlin’."
Following that, the family sat in comfortable silence, taking in the peaceful sight that stretched ahead of them.
Niall’s mother, soon took to gently rubbing his back a few seconds later, the gesture a quiet form of comfort in its own right.
Then,
"So," Niall’s father, Clark, broke the silence whilst leaning forward slightly.
"What are you up to these days?" he asked, a genuine warmth to his voice.
Dressed in a simple attire much like his son, the man looked to be genuinely aging like fine wine.
Sharing the exact features as his son, save for his raven-black hair with specks of grey and his more rugged features that contrasted against his son’s refined ones, Niall chuckled a bit and then responded;
"You don’t have to force yourself, Pa. I know you’re not much for the career I chose."
"Well, I’m not," Clark nodded slightly, his gray irises tinged with a reflective outlook.
"Hollyweird’s a vicious place full of the worst set of scumbags and buzzards and cruds that don’t think twice before exploiting people, and won’t equally think twice before exploiting my son,"
Hearing that, Niall shrunk just a tiny bit, his smile turning bittersweet at the truth of it all.
"But," the man continued, and his son’s expression shifted in faint surprise.
"I’ve come to realize these past four years you’ve been gone, that parents aren’t for telling their children what to do, or who they should be,"
"Whether we like it or not, we’re only here to give you the instruments you need to do what you truly want."
"To find yourself, to chase your dreams, to be who you want to be... that, son, is all up to you." Clark’s voice cracked, and Niall’s pupils dilated as he turned to face his father.
"And I’m so, so sorry I drove you to make such a hard decision without feeling like you were being supported."
Seeing the tears brimming on his father’s eyelids, his eyes equally red and watery, Niall immediately placed down his bowl and grabbed the man’s calloused hands. Tightly.
At first, Niall thought to similarly apologize for quietly slipping away from home when he was eighteen to chase his dreams.
However, having experienced life without his parents... and regretting every single moment he hadn’t made them aware of what he had been dealing with, he instead chose to respond to his father’s initial question with a warm smile, his eyes similarly teary;
"You asked what I’ve been up to?"
"Well, I, recently got casted for a supporting role in a medieval-themed movie," Niall continued.
"Something about playing knight-in-shining armor to a fleeing princess," he briefly explained.
Wiping the tears from his eyes with the back of his free palm, Clark’s expression slowly morphed from regret to relief.
Then, without a moment wasted, he engaged his son;
"That, sounds interesting. Mind telling me more?"
No sooner had he said that, Niall’s mother, Claire--a timelessly beautiful woman whom he’d gotten his dirty-blonde hair from--chuckled mirthfully, her cornflower-blue irises warm.
Father and son immediately glanced over to the woman whose slightly greying hair was tied into a messy ponytail.
"What’s so funny?" Clark couldn’t help but ask, his eyes blinking away his tears.
"Nothing," Claire casually replied and then added, her palm still patting Niall’s back gently;
"It’s just... you’re so much alike in that regard,"
"You’ve always been pretty good at knowing what to say to people and how to say it... but never to each other," she turned to gaze at the orchard.
"Today, probably marks the very first time you’ve both actually said what the other wants to... or rather, needs to hear." Claire concluded, her eyes misty as a single trail of tear fell down her face.
Upon hearing that, Niall’s eyes widened much like his father’s at the surprising truth to her words.
Once again, a comforting silence descended between the family of three.
However, a minute later, Niall abruptly stood up, startling his parents as he walked towards the big, red barn.
Then, a few minutes later, he led two horses out of their stables and out of the barn.
Seeing him with the stallions, Clark stood to his feet, his head tilted in curiosity much like Claire who sat still, her crossed palms resting on her laps.
"I reckon I’m going to be involved in some equestrianism leading up to the shooting of the movie," Niall commented as he walked the horses towards his father.
Handing him the reins to one, he continued;
"Now, would be a really good time for me to get back in form."
Then, patting the horse gently to steady it, he casually remarked as he leapt onto its back;
"The path to the old creek by the hill still stands, right?"
Hearing that, Clark let out an amused scoff, especially since he knew where this was going.
"I may be getting old, son,"
"But I still eat chumps like you for breakfast." the rugged farmer hauled himself up to the horse in single, swift motion.
Then, moving towards the entrance to the ranch, one that equally served as their starting line,
"First to the creek gets the big piece!" Claire declared from afar and instantly, both figures bolted into the distance!
Hair whipping in the wind, equal parts glad to be back, and grateful that he could have a moment like this again, Niall glanced sideways to his father’s perfect form, flashed him a competitive grin, and then leaned forward whilst adjusting his own form.
Upon reaching the creek, both figures secured their horses with an experienced fasten and then strolled towards the hill top.
Sitting there, not the least bit worried about how fast time was passing, father and son took the time to truly catch up.
Then, about an hour and a half later, they were back home, riding the horses in a slow walk towards the red barn.
"So, you’re essentially lodged between a rock and a hard place," Clark surmised.
"Yes. I’m stuck with an amoral agent who hates my guts, a cutthroat agency that couldn’t care less, and a predatory contract to boot," Niall nodded.
"But not for long," he confidently added, a determined expression on his features.
To that, Clark gave an acknowledging nod;
’That’s my boy.’
"So, who won?" Claire stepped out onto the porch and asked with a curious smile, an apron tied around her waist.
To that, Niall grinned victoriously to which his father proudly remarked;
"Well, honey, there’s a first time for everything."
No sooner had he said that, the family of three heard the sound of a fairly loud horn.
Turning over to face its source, all three watched as a pepper-red truck pulled up into the property and up the gravel path driveway.
Bringing the vehicle to a halt a few seconds later, Niall watched with interest as a lady in faded, overall denims stepped out.
"Camille, dear. How are you? How’s your grandmother?" Claire was the first to greet her, to which the lady in question cheerily responded as she circled back to the rear of her truck.
"I’m good, Mrs. Parker, and so is my Nana."
Hefting a fairly big chunk of neatly rolled farmer’s cheese from the truck bed, she began to make her way towards the porch.
Upon placing it on the bench the trio had been previously seating on, Camille exchanged a few more pleasantries with Claire before turning her attention to the other two.
"Morning, Mr. Parker," she respectfully greeted whilst walking towards the middle-aged man, her hands tucked into her back pocket.
"Morning, Camille. Thank you for the delivery." Clarke replied to which the young lady reciprocated;
"Don’t mention it. It’s always a pleasure doing business with you."
Then, shifting her gaze to the carbon-copy who stood next to Clark, save for his tousled, dirty-blonde hair;
"And I presume you must be, Niall."
"Good morning. I’ve heard a lot of good things about you from your parents," she extended a polite handshake.
Voluminous, curly red hair. Deep caribbean-blue irises. Soft, fair, lightly-freckled skin. Heart-shaped face. Full lips, and a warm smile that accentuated her relaxed yet cheery demeanor.
Reciprocating the handshake, Niall smiled warmly in kind;
"Morning. It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Camille."
Granted in his past life, Niall had never once visited home since he’d ran away to chase his dreams, he had no memory or recollection of the lady before him.
This, to him, was all brand new.
In any case, after exchanging a few more pleasantries, the lady soon made her way towards her truck and not a minute too soon, she was off to the next customer.
"She seems nice," Niall casually commented as he effortlessly carried the cheese from the bench.
"Oh~. I could give you her number if you want?" Claire teased, her eyes crinkling at the edges with a mischievous smile.
"Ma, don’t start," Niall drawled, a rare case of his southern accent seeping out.
Not that it stopped his mother from continuing to tease him as he followed her into the house, all whilst Clark simply watched on in amusement, his steps also carrying him into the house.
That said, about an hour later, after equally bringing his mother up to speed about the state of things with his career and assuring her he’d be fine, Niall was once again in his room.
Seated on a chair by the desk, his expression relaxed whilst rhythmically drumming his fingers quietly, he proceeded to mentally structure his plans for the future.
But first, he needed to figure out how the gifts that had been granted to him, actually worked.