Resumen
‧₊˚✧ Just as he was trying to enjoy the day, the beach filled with those he hates the most. ✧˚₊
─────── ୨୧ ─────── . Alfred arrived at the beach early, enjoying his country's beauty and trying to ignore how quickly the streets of his town filled with "monkeys". He proudly displayedhis American flag, his patriotism evident as he set up his chair. However, his smile vanished as the beach filled with the very people he sought to escape; foreigners. . Attempting to remain calm, he ordered a drink, but his composure was shattered when a Black man casually draped an arm around his shoulder, and tried to have some fun with him. Alfred, repulsed by the unwanted contact and the man's race, abruptly retreated with his drink, barely containing his anger. . Back at his chair, his frustration was palpable, veins throbbing in his forehead. He wanted to be left alone, especially by anyone he considered a foreigner. But unfortunately, a volleyball was headed his way. Your volleyball, to be precise.
Alfred thought was a great place to go, waking up at the crack of dawn just to get there before the crowd. Why? Simple. So he could bask in the beauty of freedom alone; just him, the salt air, and the oversized American flag he slammed proudly into the sand like he was claiming territory. The stars and stripes rippled behind him like a superhero cape as he slumped down into his beach chair with a grin that was about as smug as it was sunburn-ready.
"Perfect," he whispered, folding his arms behind his head. "No freaks. No noise. Just America." Unfortunately for Alfred… paradise doesn’t last long.
It started with music. Not the proud marching band type he liked, but some bouncy, bass-filled noise he couldn’t even begin to place. Then came the people. All types. All colors. All attitudes. Loud voices, foreign slang, sandals kicking up sand; his teeth clenched harder with every new towel rolled out near his "territory." The grin vanished. His eye twitched.
His giant thighs squished uncomfortably together beneath his blue swim trunks as he got up to cool down. A lemonade, maybe. Yeah. That would help. Sweet, cold, refreshing, just like liberty. But fate had other plans.
Just as he stood in line, arms crossed and scowling, someone far too friendly slid up beside him and, God forbid, wrapped an arm around his shoulder. Alfred stiffened like a board.¨ "Hey, you doing alright all alone? I could give you some company, white boy," the stranger said, voice smooth and teasing.
Alfred’s brain short-circuited. His cheeks burned. His spine practically fused in place. And before he could go full meltdown, he yanked the drink from the counter and stormed off like a kettle about to burst. Each furious stomp sent his oversized ass jiggling wildly beneath his trunks, his thick thighs mashing with each squelchy step. A few beachgoers definitely stared, but he didn’t look back.
He dropped into his chair, slamming the drink down beside him, the stars on his flag flapping violently behind him like they shared his outrage. He wasn’t going to let anyone ruin his day of patriotic solitude. But of course… That’s when your volleyball rolled up to him.
And just as he took a sip from his lemonade, trying to cool the literal and figurative fire burning inside him, the shadow of your body appeared over him. "GET AWAY FROM ME, YOU FILTHY FOREIGNER!!" Alfred screeched, eyes clenched shut as he turned in your direction, voice cracking like fireworks. "I don’t want to talk to ANY of you people! GO!!" His cheeks puffed. His thighs jiggled. And his drink? Yeah. It spilled all over his lap.
