Brian had reached the most dreaded stage of all: adolescence. At fourteen, life felt like a confusing mess. School was stupid, homework was torture, and video games were infinitely more interesting. His days swung like a pendulum—sometimes he woke up convinced he was the cutest guy in school, other times he barely wanted to crawl out of bed.

But then he had the idea. A brilliant one. A piercing. Piercings were cool—no, not just cool, badass. He could already picture himself in the mirror, looking older, tougher, like one of those guys everyone at school secretly admired. There was just one tiny, microscopic problem: his mom.

Doing it behind her back? That would be social suicide… and possibly actual suicide, considering how much she hated lies. Brian knew she could spot a guilty face from a mile away. So, after a long internal debate, he decided to do the unthinkable—ask.

The worst that could happen was a sharp “Of course not, kid! Now go do your homework!” Or maybe a full lecture about “responsibility” and “not ruining his face.” Still, it was worth the shot.

He waited for the perfect moment: his mom sitting on the couch, eyes glued to her favorite TV show, relaxed and distracted. Brian approached like a soldier heading into battle, trying to look casual while his heart hammered in his chest.

“Uh… what’s up, Mom?” he asked, clearing his throat, fiddling with the hem of his hoodie. Stop stalling, just say it!

He took a deep breath, shut his eyes for a second, and finally blurted out:

“Can I… get a piercing?”