Daily Drama (In American TV Shows)

Following the boy to the door frame, I knocked to try to get someone's attention inside the house.

The spitting image of a 90's Texan housewife appeared in the corridor in front of that door. When she noticed the door was open and there was a stranger standing there, the woman seemed greatly surprised, as if she was about to scream for help, so I interrupted.

"Hello!, sorry, the door was open. A moment ago, I was talking to Sheldon, and he told me my brother Gabe was here. By the way, I'm PJ Duncan. We just moved into the house next door," I quickly introduced myself with a friendly smile to avoid alarming the woman.

With much more calmness on her face, the woman said, "I see, yes, your brother was here playing with Missy. Hasn't he gone back home?" She said with a Texan accent.

"No, Mom asked me to come look for him," I replied with a smile to the kind woman.

"Mary! Who's at the door?" a man's voice was heard from inside the house.

"It's PJ Duncan, from the new neighbors. He's here looking for his brother!" the Texan woman shouted back, "Come on in, please. Let's go find your brother," she said, this time addressing me with a much calmer tone.

It didn't take long to find Gabe; he was sitting next to a little girl, chatting cheerfully, seemingly ignoring the curious gazes of the other people in the house.

"Good afternoon, nice to meet you all. I'm PJ Duncan. We just moved in a few days ago," I introduced myself to the people at the table.

"Nice to meet you, PJ. I'm George Cooper," the man sitting at the head of the table replied.

The young man nodded slightly as a greeting, saying "Georgie."

Smiling at the new family members, I turned to my brother, "Gabe, we have to go. Mom is looking for you."

"PJ, I'm having dinner with the Coopers. Missy invited me," Gabe said with a smile, pointing to the little girl next to him.

"That's right, I invited him. He said he was hungry, so I thought, as good Christians, we should invite him to eat, right, Mom?" Missy said, looking at her mother with puppy eyes.

Seemingly aware of her weakness, the woman replied with some difficulty, "You're absolutely right, Missy Cooper. In fact, PJ, why don't you go and tell your mom that, as a Texas welcome, they're invited to dinner?" I heard Mr. Cooper choking on the beer he was drinking.

"I wouldn't want to be a bother, Mrs. Cooper," I was saying until she interrupted me, "Nonsense, it's no trouble at all. I cooked way more than necessary; I was planning to bring it as a welcome gift, but since Gabe wants to have dinner with us, what better way to get to know each other than having dinner together?" she said as she led me towards the entrance we came through.

"If you insist, with your permission," I said, making way outside.

In the front yard, parked beside my mom's car, was a hideous yellow truck. On its driver's side door was a sticker with the slogan "Bob's Bugs Be Gone," and on the hood was a giant insect resembling an ant. Ignoring the truck, I entered the house.

"Mom!" I called out as soon as I entered. A few meters from the door, Bob was sitting on a couch watching TV while drinking a beer. Startled by my shout, he jumped up from the couch and asked, "PJ, what's going on?" "Oh, hi, Dad. The Coopers, our neighbors, invited us for dinner. I was just about to let Mom know. When did you get here?" I replied. Bob quickly grabbed the TV remote to turn it off, downed the remaining beer in one gulp, and excitedly said, "Great! I'll go find your mother. For some reason, she wants to cook, and you know how bad she is in the kitchen. You go get your sister, hurry up, and meet us at the door in 30 seconds," he said as he rushed to the kitchen. Is Mom's cooking really that bad?

Teddy's room remained closed with music playing inside. The music was much quieter than before. I waited outside with two quick knocks until I heard, "Come in," from inside. "What's up?" Teddy asked, not taking her eyes off a paper on her bed, where he had even more photographs.

Teddy's room was surprisingly decorated, despite being here as long as Gabe and being the most reluctant to leave Colorado. The room was completely personalized with photographs covering one of the walls, all showing Teddy with, I suppose, her best friend in Colorado. There were posters of celebrities I didn't recognize on the other walls, and her half-open closet was filled with clothes and other accessories.

"We're going to have dinner with the Coopers; they invited us over to their house," I said, adding, "They are the neighbors next door," as I realized Teddy might not know who the Coopers were. "What's that you have there?" I asked, sitting on the corner of her bed and pointing to the paper she held in her hands. "It's a letter I'm writing to Ivy. Mom reminded me that I could write to her to tell her what's happening here. It'll be like a diary. I think I'll call it 'What's up Ivy,'" she said with self-approval.

When we arrived at the Cooper's house, Mom, for some reason, disappointed that she couldn't cook, knocked on the front door. A few seconds later, Mr. Cooper opened the door to greet us. "Hi, nice to meet you. I'm Amy Duncan; I met your wife the day we moved in," Mom introduced herself. "Nice to meet you too, I'm George Cooper. Please come in," Mr. Cooper said, leading the way into his house. "Hey, I'm Bob Duncan. I brought these; didn't want to come empty-handed," Bob said, handing over a pack of beers and shaking hands in greeting.

After the adults and Teddy introduced themselves, we entered the house. When I came to Gabe's house for the first time, I noticed that there were only two available chairs at the table, so I wasn't surprised to see the three younger children sitting at a small table next to the main one. Gabe and Missy seemed happy, chatting with each other, but Sheldon looked very upset for some reason. "Mom, I told you, I can sit at the adult table; that's my place," he said, pointing out that there would be an extra seat at the adult table, as he called it.

"You can't sit at the adult table because you're still a crying baby," Missy quickly replied, "Yeah, you're afraid of birds; you can't sit with the adults if you're not an adult," Gabe added.

"Missy Cooper! Don't bother your brother," Mrs. Cooper scolded her daughter.

"You too, Gabe, behave," Amy reprimanded her son.

"But Mom, I have better manners than Georgie at the table, so I find it unfair that he can sit at the adult table, and I can't," Sheldon said again in a high-pitched tone.

Seeing her husband, who just shrugged, not knowing what to say or how to help, Mrs. Cooper sighed and said, "Alright, Shelly, come here." Taking her cutlery and plate carefully, Sheldon found his own place in one of the corners of the table, sat down, and with a satisfied look, he looked at his younger siblings and said, "Who's the baby now?"

Surprisingly coordinated, Gabe and Missy said at the same time, "You!" and continued their conversation.

"Please, have a seat wherever you like," Mrs. Cooper said, already seated in front of her youngest son and next to the eldest one, who was the only one that hadn't said a word during the interaction. He seemed dazed, staring at Teddy, who felt uncomfortable under his gaze.

"Thank you, nice to meet you, by the way. I'm Bob Duncan; we hadn't met before," Bob said, shaking Mrs. Cooper's hand and taking a seat next to Sheldon. I let Teddy sit next to him, and I sat at the other end of the table, in front of Mr. Cooper, who was at the head. "Let Mrs. Duncan sit here, Georgie," Mrs. Cooper urged her son to move seats. "Amy, please, how have you been? I haven't seen you since we moved in," Mom said, taking the seat that young Georgie had vacated and now facing Teddy, who still maintained eye contact.

"Thank you, Amy. Gabe told us that PJ got hurt during the move. How's everything?" Mrs. Cooper asked, concerned.

Everything is fine; PJ didn't have any serious injuries, just a minor memory loss. But we hope he'll recover it soon. According to the doctor, it's uncommon, but this memory loss is usually temporary in most cases," Mom said with a calm smile to Mrs. Cupper.

"In fact, data shows that there's a 79.5% chance he'll never recover his memory. Studies even demonstrate that memory loss due to trauma can lead to mental issues in the long run," Sheldon said petulantly and so fast that his mom couldn't stop him.

A sudden silence fell as the people outside the Cooper family looked at the well-dressed boy, perplexed.

"Sheldon Cooper, apologize right now, young man!" Mary shouted, suddenly upset with her younger son, who, surprised, retorted, "But I'm not lying; it's what the numbers say." It seemed like Mary was about to explode again, while Mr. Cooper hid behind his beer, smiling sheepishly at Bob.

"He's adopted, admit it," Georgie suddenly said to his mother.

"How can I be adopted when I have a twin sister? Think, monkey, think," he petulantly replied, seeming to have forgotten about his brother's scolding.

"That's enough; no one is adopted," Mrs. Cooper said, pointing first at her eldest son. "And young man, I thought I told you to apologize," she said, now accusingly looking at her younger son, causing Sheldon's face to scrunch up in disbelief.

"It's alright, Mrs. Cooper. No harm done. He is right; it's what the numbers say. But I feel positive; I highly doubt the impact affected my brain," I quickly said, trying to calm Mrs. Cooper with a smile, which seemed to ease her a bit as she noticed my indifference.

"Anyway, young man, I don't want to hear any more facts during dinner, or there will be no 'Doctor Troton' for a week," Mrs. Cooper said, annoyed, pointing again, but this time at her younger son.

Surprised, Sheldon seemed like he wanted to correct something in Mrs. Cooper's sentence, but upon seeing the annoyance in his mother's eyes, he reconsidered and stayed silent.

"Now let's pray. Missy Cooper, come here," Mrs. Cooper said firmly, pointing to the space between her husband and herself. Seeing what was happening, Amy quickly said, "You too, Gabe, come here."

One by one, we held hands, except for Sheldon, who said, "Just a moment, please," and put on a pair of woolen gloves.

Mr. Cooper seemed exasperated, but his embarrassment won out, and with a sheepish smile, he took his gloved son's hand.

With everyone holding hands, the Cooper family closed their eyes, and Mary said, "Thank you, God, for this meal we're about to receive and for the nourishment of our bodies. Bless the hands that prepared it." As the Cooper family kept their eyes closed, the Duncans weren't quite sure what they were supposed to do, looking at each other until, in unison, the Coopers said, "Amen." A second later, the Duncans followed suit, released their hands, and began eating as the children returned to their table.

As everyone ate, there was a lot of silence; no one said anything while chewing their food. Georgie, still staring at Teddy, absentmindedly ate his mashed potatoes, making a mess of his face in the process.

"So, George, what do you do for a living?" Bob asked, breaking the ice.

"I'm the football coach at Medford High School," Mr. Cooper replied.

"Oh, really? PJ will start there on Monday," a surprised Amy said. "Maybe he can try out for the team," she added, looking at me with hope.

"Do you like football, PJ?" Mr. Cooper asked skeptically. "Georgie will also go to Medford, and he'll try out. Maybe you can try out together," he said, a little loudly, getting his son's attention and giving him a stern look, causing him to snap out of his daydream and respond, "Ah, sure, we can try out together," nodding slightly in my direction.

"In fact, my Shelly is a bit advanced for his age, and he'll also start on Monday with you. I'm glad he won't only have Georgie to look after him but also PJ. Isn't that exciting?" Mrs. Cooper said.

"I am," Sheldon said, raising his hand.

"Really? But he's not the same age as Gabe. That's impressive. Congratulations, Sheldon," Mom said.

"Yes, I'm a little excited, I guess. Starting at a new school will be like starting from scratch, almost literally," I chuckled a bit. "And what about you, Georgie? Aren't you excited for your freshman year? That's a big deal," Mrs. Cooper asked.

"How can I be excited when he'll be in the same grade as me?" Georgie pointed to his younger brother.

"Relax, Georgie, I don't plan on staying in ninth grade for long," the youngest one replied calmly.

"All I know is that he won't be in the same grade as me anymore, and I love that, isn't that right, Gabe?" Missy said, speaking from the kids' table. "No, I would have loved to see him freaking out, making fake bird noises," Gabe mocked Sheldon.

"Well, good luck with your finger paintings," Sheldon retorted, trying to playfully return the joke.

"You're gonna get your ass kicked in high school," affirmed Missy. "Or worse," Gabe said, smiling sinisterly.

I couldn't help it, and a laugh escaped me due to the whole situation. Teddy, infected by my laughter, also laughed, making the laughter spread around the table, except for Mrs. Cooper, who, upon seeing Missy, shouted, "Hey, language!" Realizing that she should also say something since Gabe was teasing Sheldon, Mom said, "Gabe, stop bothering Sheldon; he's a very tender boy. No one will bully him."

"If no one's going to mug me, High School is a haven for higher learning," Sheldon said, as if stating the obvious.

"Oh dear god," said Mr. Cooper. "Oh dear god indeed," Bob affirmed quietly.

"Ah, high school, remember, Bob, when we were in school? I was the famous, the acclaimed Whammy the Ram, and you were a great basketball player. Those were the days; South High was a great school. The kids would have gone there, maybe Teddy would have inherited Whammy's legacy," Mom said, starting to tear up a bit. "I'm sorry, where's your bathroom, Mary?" she asked, beginning to cry and following the direction Mrs. Cooper had pointed.

"She's been very sad about the move. Every time she remembers something, she starts crying. On the way to Texas, everything that reminded her of home was another reason to cry. I hope she adjusts quickly here. I hope you can be her friend, Mary," Bob tried to explain to his wife.

"Of course, Bob, you don't have to worry. I'll be a great friend to Amy, and God help me if we can't resolve her sadness," Mrs. Cooper declared resolutely.

"You, Bob, didn't ask what you do for a living," Mr. Cooper said.

As if asked a profound question, Bob straightened in his seat and said, "I'm a pest control specialist."

Sheldon was surprised and turned his head upon hearing about Bob's job, "Oh, that's very interesting. Question, do you deal with any kind of pests? And if so, can chickens be considered pests?" Sheldon asked. "A: Yes, I'm the best at whatever my job involves. And B: I don't think chickens are considered pests," Bob responded, disappointed. Sheldon lowered his head in defeat, only to raise it again a second later. "What about dogs? Dogs are dirty; they eat from the garbage," he said, hoping for a positive response. "I'm sorry, little buddy, but dogs are not considered pests," Sheldon said, now definitely disappointed. "Well, I tried."

"So, pest control, I've heard about the pest problem with the neighbors. Was that why you moved?" Mr. Cooper asked.

"Yes, a friend of mine had his own company here, but he couldn't keep up with the amount of work in the restaurants and hotels around the cities. So, he offered me a partnership, and before we knew it, we're here with a big company," Bob replied, raising his beer bottle in a jovial toast.

"Well, thank God for that," Mrs. Cooper responded, "It's thanks to that opportunity that we now know each other," she concluded with a big smile.

"True," Mom said suddenly, having returned from crying in the bathroom, "Thank God," she repeated.

"Speaking of God, who will come to church with me tomorrow?" Mrs. Cooper asked.

"I can't," Mr. Cooper quickly responded, "I'm meeting with the other coaches."

"And can't you meet after church?" she asked with a clearly forced smile.

"No, Mary, I can't meet after church," Mr. Cooper answered, exasperated, as he cut a piece of meat on his plate.

Slightly annoyed by her husband's response, Mrs. Cooper turned to the next in line in her family, "Georgie?"

"I've got to study my playbook," the teenager replied, winking at his proud father.

Mrs. Cooper, this time feeling defeated, fixed her gaze on her plate, making the guests at the table uncomfortable, except for Teddy, who had been chatting with Missy about unimportant things for a few minutes.

"I'll go with you, Mom," Sheldon said when he noticed that no one would accompany his mother.

This cheered up Mrs. Cooper, and the atmosphere at the table relaxed a bit.

"Why are you going, though? You don't believe in God," Missy suddenly said from her seat at the kids' table.

"No, but I believe in Mom," Sheldon proudly replied.

"I'll take that," Mrs. Cooper said happily. "Missy?" she asked, "I can't. Teddy and I were going to..." Mrs. Cooper didn't let her finish as she said, "you're going. Besides, Teddy will probably also go to church, right?" she asked, focusing on Amy.

"No, actually, we don't go to church. Since when, since our wedding day?" Bob replied, also asking his wife.

"Yes, the last time we were in a church was on our wedding day."

With a small gasp of surprise, Mrs. Cooper's eyes widened, and avoiding Amy's worried look, she lowered her head and continued eating.

The dinner after that proceeded normally. George and Bob were the ones who talked the most, promising to watch the upcoming football games together and maybe have a barbecue someday. Amy and Mary shared memories of their youth and events from that time, also promising to meet up for coffee sometime.

The young ones, on the other hand, only spoke a bit among themselves. PJ and Georgie didn't have much in common, but being in the same school year and promising to study together for tests gave them a few topics to discuss. Georgie continued to throw furtive glances at Teddy throughout the night, who continued talking to Missy about teenage things. Missy was the one asking most of the questions.

Feeling excluded by his sister and new friend, Gabe started reading a comic that was quite crumpled, probably kept in one of his pockets.

Late into the night, Sheldon said, "Mom, it's time to start the bedtime routine. Can I leave the table?" he asked with his characteristic petulant tone. Mary checked her wristwatch and said, "Look at the time, Missy Cooper, it's time to brush your teeth and take a shower. We have to go to church early tomorrow."

Seeing that the Coopers had to prepare for sleep, the Duncans got up from their seats and said goodbye to the family.

Back at home.

I was already lying in my bed, waiting for Gabe to turn off the bedroom light.

"Why are your guitars on my bed?" Gabe asked, standing in the doorway in his pajamas.

"I decided that being in a new state, I could start as a new me. If you want them, they're yours," I calmly explained to my brother, who seemed surprised by the gesture. Holding one of the guitars and inspecting it closely, he said, "Really? They're yours, and you never let me touch them?" he asked, incredulous about the gift.

"Yes, if you want them, they're yours. If not, I could sell them and get some money. So, what do you say? You could learn to play, and maybe you'll enjoy it. It's like a tradition. I had a band, and today we learned that Dad had one too. Now it's your turn to start a band someday."

I couldn't see Gabe's face; he was sitting on the other side of the bed with one of the guitars in his lap. Carefully, he set them one by one next to his bed and softly said, "Thanks." Then he turned off the lamp and went to bed.

"You're welcome, little brother," I said as I closed my eyes for a good night's sleep.

The next day, after having breakfast, I approached Bob, who was watching television from the couch in the living room. "Dad, can we go get a haircut for me?" I asked. Bob seemed surprised by the question. "Your hair? You're going to cut your hair? You?" he asked incredulously.

"Yes, I was thinking that I'd like a new haircut and maybe some new clothes too, to start school tomorrow as a new PJ," I replied.

"Well, if you say so," he said, turning off the TV and getting up from the couch. "Let's go quickly before your mom or Teddy hear that we're going shopping," he said, guiding me through the living room to the front door to leave.

At the shopping mall, inside the barbershop, the barber was cutting my hair while an old basketball game played on the television. "You have good hair, kid, but you need to wash it better. If you keep mistreating it, it won't be long before you end up like your father," the barber said.

"Hey, the Duncan mane has always been a problem for the men in the family. No matter how much you take care of your hair, the genes are much stronger. In fact, I'm surprised that PJ doesn't have any bald spots yet. At his age, my father had already given me my first cap," Bob said, mocking his attempt to intimidate his son.

"Well, if you want to prove that theory wrong, son, use this shampoo, and everything will be fine," the barber said, handing me a bottle.

After leaving the barbershop and on our way to the discount store on the mall's second floor, Bob seemed annoyed. "That shampoo won't work, PJ. You just allowed that man to rip you off," he said.

"Well, Dad, I have nothing to lose by trying it. Anyway, the price of the bottle isn't much higher than the regular shampoo prices, and I needed to buy more. I had very little left," I said, trying to make him understand my point. I'd do everything I could to avoid going bald.

"Alright, you're right. Just remember not to get your hopes up. I've tried everything, and look at me now," he said, pointing to his head with a smile. We took the escalators and quickly reached the second floor, heading towards the store.

Inside the discount store, I found everything I needed: good-quality clothes at a spectacular price. I bought new shoes and a wristwatch that was hidden among the shelves, with a great discount. It seemed that either the store employees or another customer had hidden it there, intending to buy it later.

Bob was telling me about a new species of termite he had read about in a magazine called "Pest Control Specialists," as he referred to it. When we reached the stairs to go down, they were packed with people, as it seemed everyone decided to leave the mall at the same time.

A few steps below us, there was an elderly woman with a bag full of groceries. Suddenly, the bag burst open, and as she tried to catch the oranges that were escaping, she accidentally pushed a man who stumbled, triggering a chain reaction that led to a crowd collapsing.

Screams filled the area, and in the distance, I could hear someone shouting, "Call an ambulance!" People who were already downstairs rushed to help those who had fallen last.

Determined, Bob and I moved to help with the efforts. I helped lift people, including the woman who had lost her fruits. She was in distress, blaming herself for the chaos. "Oh my God, what have I done? It's all my fault," she said with great concern.

"Please, ma'am, everything is fine. There's nothing to worry about. Nobody was seriously hurt," I tried to reassure her, but I was wrong. "Help! We need a doctor over here!" someone suddenly yelled close to me.

On the ground was a young teenager, sweating and in great pain, as his face indicated. Beside him, on the floor, was a broken cane, and there was a blood stain on his shirt, near the pleural cavity*, with bubbles forming every time he inhaled.

"It's a tension pneumothorax*," I whispered almost unconsciously as someone lifted his shirt to see what was happening. He had a wound just below his chest, and with every breath, it filled with bubbles.

People, obviously frightened, tried to press on the wound of the young man lying on the floor, who suddenly started breathing rapidly and gasping for short periods of air. Nobody seemed to know what to do.

I immediately knew what was happening. "He's having an asthma attack!" I shouted quickly. "He must have an inhaler!" The people attending to him searched his clothes and found a broken inhaler in his pants.

Darn it! If nothing is done, he will die from the pressure in his chest, and the ambulance might not arrive in time. He needs a chest drain to relieve the pressure and seal the hole. I won't be able to get one here. I felt panic starting to take over again; the air was becoming scarce, and all the noise from the people sounded like I was underwater. Someone else is going to die, and I won't be able to help. My fists were clenched tightly when suddenly, a nail pierced my skin, snapping me out of my trance. Looking at my hands, I saw a plastic tube rolling near my foot.

Wait...

I quickly picked up the tube and ran to a nearby craft store, a few shops from the accident. I borrowed some adhesive tape and rushed back to the young man.

"Excuse me, let me work," I said, pushing away the people who were on the ground. Carefully, I cut a piece of plastic and taped it to the young man's chest, creating a makeshift valve to regulate the pressure and air inside his lungs.

As I waited, everyone was silent, unable to believe that a teenager was attempting to patch the wound. Then, suddenly...

"huhf, huhf," the young man breathed, still with difficulty, but looking better.

"Incredible, kid," said a man beside me, patting my shoulder. "What's your name?"

"PJ, sir," I said, mentally exhausted as I moved away from the excited man.

"You did well, kid. Where did you learn that?" he asked again.

"I read it in a comic," I lied, recalling Gabe's comic books.

"In a comic!" the man exclaimed, surprised. "What comic could teach you..." he was saying until someone interrupted him. "The paramedics have arrived. Clear the way," another voice said.

Taking advantage of the distraction, I slipped away to where Bob had gone.

"PJ, there you are! Are you okay? Did you get hurt? Sorry for leaving so quickly, son. I went to help the people who needed it. Fortunately, no one was seriously injured," Bob said, panting.

"Don't worry, Dad, everything's fine," I said to him. "Let's go home." I took the balls he was still holding for me.

"Okay, PJ, let's get out of here. Let the professionals do their job," Bob said, pointing to the firefighters and paramedics in the area.

In the car, on our way home, I lowered the volume of the music in the old van. "Dad, I remembered something I wanted to ask you," I said.

"Go ahead, PJ," Bob responded jovially.

"Do we have financial problems?" The question seemed to surprise Bob, as he suddenly jerked the steering wheel, causing the van to shake. "No, no, what makes you think that?" he asked, alarmed. "Well, we bought my clothes at the discount store," I explained, realizing why I was asking. Bob burst out laughing, "Oh, PJ, not at all! We don't have any financial problems. With the sale of the house in Colorado, my new job opportunity, and your mom's job, we can live comfortably for quite a while. Sure, some extra income wouldn't hurt, but we're okay, son. You don't have to worry about that," he said, patting my now stylish hair. "If we bought your clothes there, it's because I like to save money."

Feeling more at ease with his response, I turned up the music volume again. I would like to be able to earn more money for my family, but how? Surely, there must be an easy way to make money, especially for someone like me who has a rough idea of what will happen in the future, I thought as I gazed out the window, and then...

"RadioShack."

And I knew how I would make money.

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Glossary

*Pleural Cavity: Space surrounded by the pleura, which is a thin layer of tissue that covers the lungs and lines the inner wall of the thoracic cavity.

*Tension Pneumothorax: This occurs when there is a valvular mechanism that allows air to enter the pleural cavity during inspiration but does not allow it to escape during expiration.

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Author's thoughts

Here ends another chapter. Again, I'm not a doctor, and I don't know how many things worked in America in the 90s.

No one commented on where I got the idea for Oliver in the previous chapter, so the prize doubles (again, there's no prize, so double zero is still zero). The new clue is in this chapter: Where did I get the idea of the young boy with asthma?

Now, I would like to clarify a few things. This chapter is probably filled with information that may not be interesting to you, the readers, but I'm adding it to have more substantial content and not just filler.

There will be three major arcs (which may be subdivided): adolescence (high school), medical school, and the stage as a doctor. These arcs will have their own appearances from series and/or movies (If you have any recommendations, I'm all eyes [Is that a tired joke, right?]). Therefore, the story will have many chapters and may be slow at some points (but not boring, I hope).

Will there be romance in the story? Yes, there will be, but it might not appear until later, possibly in the second or third arc. Again, to clarify from the synopsis, there won't be a Harem, but possibly there won't be just one relationship throughout the story (only one woman per relationship).

If any information I provided in today's chapter is incorrect, I hope you forgive me and let me know so I can check if it needs correction.

Thanks for your power stones (I need more, MORE!!!) and for those who keep my story in their library.

Oh, and I'm preparing a Discord (I'm very new to that application, but I saw other authors doing it, so I don't want to be left behind), and I'm looking for people who want to moderate the server (obviously, there's no pay, but you'll be compensated with a false sense of power).

That's all for now. Thank you for reading, and if you find any errors, please let me know so I can correct them.

PS: Getting closer to 15k words. Excitement :D.

Edit: I forgot to mention that the Cooper's table in the original series is for 6 people (you can see it in the first episode of Young Sheldon). I extended it by two more seats for the sake of the plot.