Damn it, I’m surrounded by those who kill their fathers!

T/N: Superman is in Bully Maguire phase lol

...

"Are you okay, Clark?"

On the way to the classroom, John asked Clark curiously.

Earlier, Clark had suddenly shoved Whitney's lackey aside. While John found it satisfying, it felt completely out of character for the usually mild-mannered Clark.

"I'm great. Better than ever."

Clark shrugged, raising his hand to admire the ruby ring on his finger.

"I feel lighter, freer—I can do whatever I want."

John squinted suspiciously. "But you pushed that guy earlier, Clark."

"Yeah, he deserved it, didn't he? I've been wanting to do that for ages!"

John thought Clark seemed off. "Sure, but that's not like you. Did something happen that I missed?"

"Nope, nothing happened. But I have to say—I like this feeling."

Clark grinned, clearly in high spirits.

As they continued talking, Lana approached them.

"Hey, Clark. Are you okay?"

Lana asked with concern.

"I'm fine. I just lost my temper for a moment. You know how it is, Lana. They always bully others for fun, and I decided to stand up to them this time."

Clark's tone was unusually calm and confident—far from the awkwardness he usually displayed around Lana.

"Are you heading to cheer practice this afternoon? I'll be at football practice, and I'd like your eyes on me for a while."

"Uh…"

Lana froze for a couple of seconds, then took a deep breath and gave John a questioning look.

The Clark she knew would never say something like that.

John shook his head, signaling he had no idea what was going on either.

"Y-yeah, I'll be there for practice. See you then," Lana said with an awkward smile before walking away, looking confused.

The Kent Farm

Jonathan was wiping down a Harley-Davidson motorcycle.

The second-hand bike had been a gift from Peter.

"You seem to really like Peter's gift," Martha said, standing nearby.

"I do. It's cool, isn't it?"

Jonathan put the cloth in a bucket of water and stood up to admire the motorcycle again. "I've always wanted one of these."

Martha leaned against a post. "Once you've fixed it up, I want to be the first to take it for a spin."

"Of course. But I'd prefer it if you rode in the back."

Jonathan smiled as he stood up and checked his watch. "Where's Clark? He's usually home by now."

As soon as he spoke, there was a sudden whoosh, and Clark appeared before them like a flash of lightning.

The gust of wind stirred up by his super-speed made their hair fly.

"Looking for me?" Clark asked, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

Jonathan was momentarily stunned by Clark's casual use of his powers. "Yes. Weren't we supposed to fix the garage door together?"

Clark tossed his bag aside and said nonchalantly, "No problem. I can fix it in two seconds."

Jonathan exchanged a concerned glance with Martha.

Clearing his throat, Jonathan said, "Clark, we need to talk about you joining the football team."

"I don't want to talk about it right now," Clark said, shaking his head and raising his hand to inspect the ring again.

Jonathan frowned as he noticed the ring on Clark's finger.

"I thought we agreed, Clark. You weren't supposed to buy that ring."

Clark lowered his hand, his expression indifferent. "I thought we agreed I could make my own decisions."

"That's because I believed you'd make the right ones. Clark, that ring wasn't cheap—"

Before Jonathan could finish, Clark interrupted, raising his voice in frustration. "I'm tired of worrying about money!"

Jonathan froze, his face etched with shock.

Sensing the tension, Martha interjected. "Clark, go wash up for dinner."

But Clark brushed her off, speaking curtly. "I'm not hungry. I've got chores to do in the field."

With that, he sped off in a gust of wind, leaving the couple standing there.

After a moment, Jonathan asked, "What was that all about?"

Martha shrugged. "I think our super-powered son is going through a rebellious phase."

Jonathan exhaled deeply, worry clouding his eyes. "His rebellious phase might be a lot more dangerous than most."

Martha smiled faintly but shared the same concern in her gaze.

"Jonathan, he made a choice," Martha said as she picked up Clark's discarded backpack.

"But it was the wrong one," Jonathan replied.

"That's his decision to make," Martha said. "I recall a certain teenager who once spent $500 on a motorcycle."

Jonathan chuckled reluctantly. "I'm 100% sure you ratted me out to Peter about that."

"Peter loves hearing your old stories," Martha teased, taking his hand. "But, Jonathan, lecturing him will only make things worse."

Jonathan nodded, feeling the warmth of her hand. "You're right," he said with a forced smile.

Later That Night – Podrick Farm

Peter studied the ruby ring in his hand, intrigued.

"A gift? From you?" he asked John, surprised.

"Yes, Dad. It's a dance ring from Smallville High," John said proudly. "I bought it with my allowance."

"A ring with some serious bling—nice. I like it."

Peter inspected the ruby closely, feeling a strange sense of familiarity.

The texture reminded him of his collection of green kryptonite.

"John, where did your school source these rubies?" he asked.

"They were supposedly made from a meteorite. I'm not sure. Do you think it's fake?"

"Not necessarily fake, but definitely unique."

Peter nodded thoughtfully before smiling at John. "In any case, I love it. Thank you."

Pleased, John smirked and cast a sidelong glance at Star-Lord.

Not one to be outdone, Star-Lord's eyes lit up with an idea.

"Dad, I've got a gift for you too!" Star-Lord announced.

"Oh? What is it?" Peter asked, ruffling his hair.

"Wait here, Dad."

Star-Lord dashed upstairs and quickly returned with a ribbon-wrapped box.

"Here it is!" he declared, presenting the gift to Peter.

"I'm intrigued." Peter reached for the box, but Star-Lord stopped him.

"No, Dad. You have to open it when no one's around," Star-Lord insisted.

"Fine. I'll keep it for later," Peter said, amused.

John, watching this exchange, gripped his utensils so tightly they bent.

That little manipulator, John thought, is my greatest rival!

Later, Star-Lord happily hummed along to "Surfin' Safari" on his Walkman as he headed upstairs.

"Hey, Star-Lord," John called out, stopping him.

"What's up, John?"

"I've got some advice for you: stop playing dumb songs at night."

"So, you hate music?"

"No, I just hate seeing you act like an idiot. You're my brother, and I don't want you embarrassing our family."

Star-Lord shrugged. "You know what, John? I don't care what you think."

"Really?" John stepped closer, glaring. "The only reason I haven't flattened you is because you're my brother. Cross the line, and you'll end up bad."

Star-Lord smirked, unfazed. Instead, he pulled out his phone and held it up.

The screen showed an active call.

"I'm on the line with Dad right now. He heard everything," Star-Lord said.

John froze, panic flashing across his face.

But he quickly composed himself, his fierce expression softening into an innocent smile.

"Hey, Dad. Just joking around with Star-Lord here," John said.

Star-Lord slowly backed away, phone still in hand. "Goodnight, John."

John forced a laugh. "Haha, yeah, goodnight! We were just rehearsing lines for a school play, Dad!"

When the door slammed shut, John's fake smile vanished. Gritting his teeth, he glared at the closed door.

That sneaky little punk! John thought, clenching his fists.

Inside his room, Star-Lord sighed in relief.

The call had been fake, but he knew John wouldn't risk testing it.

"All right, music on!"

Star-Lord hit play on his Walkman and gleefully sang along to his favorite tune.

...

T/N: This little shit is supposed to be three years old hahaha!!

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