"And, guard! Left slice, right thrust, left jab! Down, and finish!" shouted Trevor's father as he jolted a fencing sword into his son's stomach. Trevor recoiled, and fell on his back. "You still can't see that coming, boy. What's the matter? You usually do fine..." he said to Trevor.
"Yeah, i guess something just hasn't felt right lately. I wonder what it could be? Oh yeah, that's right. Mother is in the hospital because of that car crash you two got were in and we're here friggin' fencing?! Gee, dad, ya' think that could be it?" shouted Trevor, removing his protective helmet to reveal a very handsome blonde face shrouded by expensive sunglasses.
His father slapped him, sunglasses falling to the matted floor. Somehow, they cracked slightly. "How dare you say that! You know it was the oncoming truck that swirved out of control and hit us head on, it's not my fault! And don't you dare call me dad! It's father to you, boy!" And with that, millionare John Edwards stormed out of the personal gym, fully padded in fencing gear, and slammed the door.
"Right. Not your fault. Not your fault that you jumped out of the window to safety and let mother take the hit. Sure." said Trevor. "Gah, stay calm. No crying. Just check your cellph-" and as he went to finish his sentence, his phone started ringing and vibrating on his sweat-towel over on a bench. He had recieved a text message.
Reading aloud, Trevor repeated, "Go to the Digimon World Communication Center, decide your destiny...This is not a game..." he turned off his phone and chuckled. "ha, please. Another cheasy chain-message. Let's see, REPLY, TYPE, 'NO,' SEND. Let's see how they feel about that."
Trevor began to walk off when he heard his phone ring again. He stopped, considered texting back, and kept walking. As he entered the hall, he walked past two large ficuses. In between, a pair of glowing eyes and a mouth spoke with a female voice. The body was not seen, and Trevor jumped. "You aren't going to go, are you Trev?"
"No, i won't, Renamon. Don't pester me about it. Why don't you go spar with the training dummies or something?" He replied, now calm.
"Trev, it probably isn't a joke. Don't go wasting your time shopping for new glasses when you may be needed to save the world." Renamon snapped back. She was much like Trevor. Very stubborn and always got her way.
"My glasses are fine." and with that, Trevor walked into the dining room for dinner, and also slammed the door. Renamon sighed and turned to go into the gym.
