Jason's Plight (Rewritten) by Oopsie

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Hello! It's been awhile since I've written my original story. I've been thinking about it recently and decided to rewrite it. I'd like to think that my writing skills have improved a lot ever since. I hope you enjoy!

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"Honey... Can you do me a favor?"

It was another relaxing candlelit dinner at the local steak restaurant, just the two of them. His hand gently on top of hers and... He had a feeling she was going to ask him a favor regarding the kids.

They weren't his. Hell, Bob Oswald was her boyfriend and she hadn't brought up the kids until their third date, fearing it would drive him away. But his love still remained for the woman. She had 4 adopted children. The eldest, a girl, was sweet and pleasant, being the vice president of the local high school. The younger sons, Leon and Gabriel were quiet, yet withdrawn, unproblematic.

Something told Bob that this was about... Jason.

"Of course... Anything for you, Octavia."

Just anything... but the brat.

"Jason has a basketball game tomorrow. First game of the season. I was hoping you'd be able to show up, just... To show that we've haven't forgotten about him." Bob watched Octavia's luscious red lips move back and forth. If she wasn't this irresistible, he would've already declined. Kid was a chump; made the varsity team his freshman, had a bright future ahead of him, yet chose to hang out with the same individuals Bob found at the station every other week on suspicion of drug possession.

Sighing, the man ran his hand over his bristly short hair.

"I'll be there."

-----

Robert Oswald... Hell naw. When Octavia told him that her boyfriend, of all people, was going to his basketball game, the boy had promptly stomped away, slamming his bedroom door shut. Even when Leon, one of his younger brothers came to console him, telling him that he would tell Octavia to miss his violin recital to make his first game, Jason's response was a plethora of curses that made the younger boy run away in tears.

Laying on his bed, the boy's nimble fingers found the knob of his bedside table drawer, opening it. The pack of unopened cigarettes, stolen from Octavia's office, were so tempting. They were a gift from her boyfriend, and out of pure spite and anger, the boy had stolen it. Before Bob Oswald came along, he, Jason Thrasher, had been the man of the house. With Oswald around, he had disappeared to the back of everyone's minds once more.

A ringing noise filled the air and the boy reached for his phone. It was a text, from one of his friends.

"Kid, there's a sick party down the street from my place. We need more booze."

Jason groaned, quickly typing up a response.

"Dude... I don't have a fake."

"Then just steal it. It's not a big deal. Big Al's on 41st is run by some old dude. He's not gonna notice your skinny ass."

Stealing? It felt wrong...

"Hurry up dude, the chicks are gonna leave if there's no more alc."

"K, I'm coming."

Throwing on a black hoodie, the boy threw the hood over his head, his brown hair easily flopping over his eyes. It was the current stylist trend for teenagers his age and it was something he took great pride in. The girls at school liked it, ruffling his hair and his friends would shove his hood on, Jason shaking his head, the hair swinging back and forth. The boy kept it well-groomed, with a messy swagger of some sort, perfect for the 'cool' kid.

It was almost approaching midnight as Jason walked towards the store, fidgeting with the unopened box of cigarettes in his sweatpants' pocket. He had enough of a conscience to bring his wallet, to pay the owner at least. Walking through the doors, the bell jingled and the boy groaned, keeping his head down. His friend was right. The old man there was sleeping.

Glancing around, he found a good 24 pack box of beer. As the boy slowly picked it up, the door jingled once more, a familiar figure walking in.

"Holy fu-" Jason picked up the box and sprinted towards the door, only for Bob Oswald to simply grab his hoodie's hood, the boy hopelessly stuck in place.

"Jason. Wasn't expecting to see you here." The man was eerily calm, despite Jason's heartbeat growing louder and louder in his ears. Dressed in his police uniform, he was a formidable figure, standing over 6 feet, towering over the 14 year old boy.

"Let me go, old man," Jason replied, a scowl on his face.

The scowl on his face was soon erased when the man pulled out a pair of shining silver handcuffs from his belt.

"You're coming with me."

---
Hell, what had the kid been thinking? Bob looked at the rear view mirror from time to time, attempting to observe the boy's actions. He got nothing, the boy only staring out the window, anger etched across his face.

"The hell were you thinking? Your mom's gonna beat your ass!" The police sheriff finally snapped, speaking what was on his mind.

"You should've let me go!" Jason replied, his prepubescent voice angry and bitter.

"Stealing? Really? I expected better from you."

Jason did not reply, the silence sitting in the air for a bit. Oswald glanced at the rear view mirror, watching the kid's wrists slowly wiggle back and forth, attempting to slide out of the handcuffs.

"I'm bringing you to the station."

"Hell no! Octavia's gonna send me away to military school!" the boy exclaimed, suddenly more animated and alive now.

Finally, something to work with.

"Here's the deal. I don't want to bring you to the station because I feel bad for the guys on night shift, and you don't want your mother picking you up from the station at 2 AM." Oswald let it sit for a moment, and was about to speak, when the brat spoke up again.

"There's a catch, isn't there?"

"Looks like football season didn't entirely wreck your brain. If you get into trouble again, there will be consequences."

Jason scoffed.

"Sure."

---
The boys thought he had chickened out last night. Better than revealing he got caught, at least. Jason paced around the locker room anxiously, as the varsity team awaited the coach's arrival. The first game of his high school basketball career... One wrong move and Coach would put him back on JV. He couldn't afford it; he had already quit his AAU basketball team over the summer. If he wanted to go pro, he needed to be absolutely perfect tonight.

The coach revealed that he wasn't starting, but it didn't matter. As the boy shot during warmups, he knew he had to prove the coach wrong, that putting him as a starting bench was a mistake.

But the shots didn't fall in. Time after time, they hit the rim, much to his chagrin. When warmups concluded, the boy stormed back to his seat. It seemed like the coach was willing to give him a chance though, and a few minutes after the game begun, the boy found himself as the point guard, taking the ball up the floor.

Everything on the floor was humiliating. The opposing team swiped away his ball with ease. They blocked his shot. And the few times Jason was able to shoot, he found himself miserably missing. He couldn't let this happen. As his teammate passed him the ball, the boy aggressively dribbled towards the basket, three players from the opposing team running towards him. His ball was instantly stolen.

"Thrasher! The hell was that?" his coach exclaimed angrily as the other team scored.

"Your hair in the way? Look out for your teammates!"

Jason ignored this. Running his fingers through his hair, sweeping the messy brown hair out of his eyes, he ignored his teammates, again and again and again. Even after his coach called for him to return to the bench after sending a player to replace him, the boy took the ball and shot, miserably missing once more. Cursing under his breath, he slowly walked back to his seat, a snarl on his face.

The team lost that night. Jason tried to ignore the coach's yelling.

"Thrasher! You think you're the best player on the team, the prettiest boy on the team with that pretty boy hair of yours? It makes you blind!" The coach's words rolled off of the boy, like water off a duck's back.

"It was just a bad day! I didn't do anything wrong!" Jason finally hollered back, garnering silence from the room.

"Thrasher, you're off the team! I can't have an arrogant brat on my team who can't see anyone and anything around him because he's too busy looking good for the girls!"

It took him too long to process the coach's words.

"Fine! You'll regret it!" Taking off his jersey, the boy threw it onto the ground, stomping on it a few times, before storming out of the locker room.

---

The kid was a horrendous mess. Bob Oswald didn't even need to be in any player's shoes to know that. Just watching in the bleachers gave him a headache. The brat was good, but he was absorbed with himself, trying to make himself seem like the best player to ever exist.

After the game, the man saw the boy storm out of the locker room. Waiting a bit, the man spoke to the coach, then decided to follow Jason outside.

---

Adults smoked whenever things went wrong, right? Shivering in the frosty November air, the boy's fingernails scraped away at the cellophane encapsulating the pack of cigarettes. How the hell was he supposed to open this thing again? Taking out his lighter, the boy took out the pocket knife part, finally cutting it open. It was crude, but it didn't matter.

The lighter's flame danced in front of his eyes, but the sound of a door closing scared him, the boy dropping both items out of fear. Turning around, he saw Bob Oswald. The fear in his amber eyes, Bob Oswald's gaze turning towards the lighter and the pack of cigarettes... The man had put two and two together.

"You're coming with me."

---

"Just drop me off at Octavia's place."

"We're gonna make a stop first."

"Where?"

"You'll see."

It was weird, how Oswald wasn't saying anything about the cigarettes. The man had silently collected both the pack of cigarettes and the lighter pocketknife, merely putting them in his pocket and not saying a word about it. Glancing out the window, the boy slowly exhaled on it, watching his breath turn into fog, then drew an unsavory thing on the window. Out of spite for the old man.

"You're not telling her about anything, right?"

"Only if you come with me for a little errand."

"Coach didn't talk to you, right? You're not my dad."

"I know."

"Please don't tell Octavia..." Jason hated how he was in this situation, being forced to plead with his sworn nemesis.

"Alright. Tell me what coach said to you though."

"He said I didn't score because I'm too hot."

The old man let out a snort.

"Listen, I won't say anything if you get a haircut, make your coach happy, yada yada yada. Deal?"

The car stopped at an intersection, before slowly turning into a strip mall. Everything was closed, except a barber shop, the red and blue pole swirling, illuminated by a bright light. Jason recognized the place. He used to go there when he was younger, before his parents were killed in that robbery 2 years ago. His dad would bring him here and the two of them would always get a number four.

"Alright, kid. Don’t do anything dumb and I’ll drop you off a block from your house. You can pretend we never talked after the game or whatever you want."

The deal sounded good to him and the boy exited the car.

---

Bob Oswald liked going to the old fashioned barbers. It was a tight knit community and he knew he would always get a good buzz cut at these places. Reminded him of his youth. He could always get a good high and tight with a #1 on top and a #0 on the sides. He was good friends with the owner of the place, Eddie, a former Marine.

He still didn't trust the kid though. Placing a firm hand on the boy's shoulder, the two of them walked in. The kid shoved on his hood, head awkwardly ducked away, attempting to trudge to the nearest seat. Bob squeezed the boy's shoulder and the boy stopped in his tracks, a huff escaping his lips.

"I didn't know you adopted!" Eddie chuckled, gathering the attention of the other old men who were in the shop.

"He's one of Octavia's kids." Bob sighed and shoved the hood off the boy's face, noting the boy's cheeks were now a bright red. The boy shoved the hood back on, and Bob took it off once more, keeping a firm grip on the hood, almost yanking it backwards so the hood tugged a bit at the boy's neck, a warning to not resist.

"He looks like a feisty one." Eddie looked at the boy curiously, noting how the boy refused to make eye contact with him.

"Caught him trying to steal a case of beer. He was a little brat to his coach during his game today too," Oswald replied with a sigh.

"You here to discipline him?" the old man walked up to the boy, picking up chunks of hair before letting it flop back down into the boy's eyes.

"Mhm." The sheriff sighed, shaking his head.

"He's been a lot of trouble."

Eddie nodded, gesturing for Oswald to lead Jason to a chair. Jason obediently sat down and Oswald removed his grasp from the boy. The old man strolled over, placing the coarse tissue around the boy's neck.

"Whatcha looking for? I can shave him bald," the old man replied, draping the cape over the boy's shoulders.

"You can't shave me bald!" Jason exclaimed, bolting out of his seat.

"Maybe a number two all over. His mother would kill me if I brought him home without a hair on that head of his," Oswald replied.

"I’m not doing this! You can send me to jail! Or tell Octavia! Or both!" Jason sprinted towards the door. Oswald lazily extended his foot out and the boy tripped over it and fell onto the floor.

---

Being dragged back to the seat by two old man, the boy felt two leather belts snake around his arms, tying him to the chair.

"A number one, Oswald?" the old man asked. Jason shot a glare at Bob Oswald. It was clear he had no power here, but still, the boy wanted to attempt to come off as threatening.

"A number zero. Its hair. It'll grow back. Just can't send him back to his mother as shiny as cue ball or she'll lose it."

"You wouldn't!" Jason exclaimed angrily, the chair shaking as the boy attempting to wriggle free.

Eddie seemed to take plenty of joy in running his fingers through the boy's fluffy fringe.

"It's all got to go."

The sound of the clippers awakening sounded through the air. The old man seemed to wave the Wahl balding clippers in front of his face, taunting him.

"Oswald! You can't do this to me!" Jason protested.

The vibrating clippers met his forehead, the feeling rising higher and higher, leaving a strip of pale white skin in its wake of destruction. A sharp breath escaped the boy's lips in absolute horror, realizing that it was indeed happening. Attempting to turn his head away, he felt the old man grab his head, tightening his grip on his scalp.

"No..." Jason hadn't meant to say it out loud. He could hear the other customers laughing at his demise. From the corner of his eye, he could see Bob Oswald completely undisturbed, merely reading a newspaper instead. Suddenly, the old man shoved his head downwards, the boy's amber eyes meeting the lifeless hair that sat on his lap. It would take forever to grow. Jason knew that. Maybe, it wouldn't even be back by the end of the school year.

The vibrating sensation appeared at the back of his neck once more and the old man slammed his chin into his chest. The vibrating rose to the top of his head, before making another pass in a slightly different place, the same pattern repeating over and over again, more tufts of hair fluttering on his lap.

He couldn't be crying... It... It was... It was the one redeeming quality about him, the thing that everyone liked about him. He had put care and effort into his hair, to look good, to impress the girls. The boys ruffled his hair affectionately and treated him like a younger brother.

Jason could feel his body shaking, a sob accidentally escaping his lips, tears welling in his eyes. His head was suddenly jerked upwards and he found himself staring at his pale white scalp. He looked ugly.

"How does this look?" Eddie asked. Bob Oswald looked up from his newspaper.

"This looks fine." The cape was removed and the paper strip fluttered away. Jason stared at the tufts of hair scattered across the floor. All of his precious locks were gone. Looking back up at the mirror, the boy ran a hand over his head...

It was all too real.

"Your coach won’t yell at you for your girlie bangs, huh?" Bob Oswald asked. Jason didn't reply, shoving the hood over his head. Oswald tugged it off.

"At least you didn't discover a receding hairline."

---

It was a good lesson for the kid, Bob Oswald figured, even if the car ride back to the boy's home was eerily silent. Maybe the silence was even better. The kid occasionally kept touching his head, as if he was in denial of the whole thing.

Finally, the car slowed to a stop, a block away from the kid's house.

"Alright, Jason. As I promised. A block away from your house. The police won’t be hearing anything about the beer thing. Neither will your mother hear about anything. Keep up your grades and I’ll see you in two weeks." Oswald gave the kid a pat on the shoulder.

Jason didn't reply, merely opening the door. Slowly getting out of the car, the boy shoved back on his hood.

"What do you mean by 2 weeks?" Jason asked.

"You'll see."

"I hate you."

Bob Oswald watched the kid trudge away. Pretending to drive away, the man looped back around, finding the boy in almost the exact same spot, running his hand over his head. The kid was sure vain, huh? Hopefully this would fix those issues.

He really hoped it would.

---

Trudging back into the house, the boy didn't slam the door shut, closing it quietly with a click instead. His little brother Leon, golden curly locks bouncing in the air with each step he excitedly took towards his brother, sprinted towards him, hugging him.

"Jason!" The boy was surprised by the momentum and his hood fluttered off, revealing the bare minimal stubble across his head.

"Get away from me, you punk," Jason said, trying to shove the younger boy off of him. Leon looked up at him, jaw dropping.

"OH MY GOD! MOM! JASON SHAVED HIS HEAD!" Leon screeched at the top of his lungs, before sprinting off to find Octavia. Shoving the hood back on, the boy sprinted to his room, slamming the door shut. Taking off his hood once more, the boy ran his hand over the stubble.

What the hell was he going to do tomorrow at school?

School was going to be terrible.

(Hopefully, Part 2 will be coming soon! I really want to build on this relationship between Jason and Bob Oswald, although just a warning... Jason will continue to be a prick for a bit.)

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