Chapter Text
If anyone had told Lance that at nineteen, he’d be forced to make the difficult decision to give up going to college in favor of working three jobs to financially support his family, he wouldn’t have believed them in a million years. Even if they’d tried to tell him six months ago, the response would have remained the same. Independence was something he’d clawed out for himself as an omega in an alpha’s world; the second he’d been old enough to get a job to pay for his own things, he’d leapt at the chance, buying his first cell phone and paying for a plan out of his own pocket. The other part of it was an effort to lighten the financial load on his mother; being a single omega mother to three children wasn’t easy, which was a huge reason he was doing what he was.
Despite being a male omega, Lance was determined to prove the stereotypes about his secondary gender wrong. He’d consistently gotten higher grades than his Alpha classmates- enough so that he’d gotten a full scholarship to the local university, combined with his athletic abilities. (Fighting his way to the top of the athletics program and becoming the high school track star certainly didn’t hurt, either.) Heck, it had even made the local paper: it was the first scholarship of its kind to be awarded to an omega from Lance’s high school- something he’d taken great pride in after all of the doubt he’d endured from the alphas and betas around him.
Unfortunately, in the end, it didn’t make a difference. He lost the scholarship shortly after he picked up his second job, grades slipping as he tried to balance school, a full-time and another part time job.
After that, it didn’t improve. Halfway through his freshman year, his mother got sick. Despite every effort he and the doctors made, she didn’t seem to get better. She deteriorated quickly, going from a warm, consistent presence in their home to barely being able to climb out of bed to use the restroom on her own. Lance’s father had died in a tragic car accident when he was twelve, so there wasn’t anyone else who could take care of her. Without hesitation, he dropped everything to move home and help take care of his younger siblings. Rachel had just turned sixteen, a newly presented Beta with fire in her eyes, while Luis, only fourteen, still un-presented, found solace in art; an aspiring artist, if the quality of his drawings was any indication.
He’d taken the second job because minimum wage as a stocker and cashier at Castle Market didn’t pay near enough to cover the mortgage, utilities, and food for four people. Granted, waiting tables at the higher-end restaurant known as Blade wasn’t much better; he made less than minimum wage, but management did allow the wait-staff to take up to fifty dollars in cash tips per day, while the rest would be added onto his checks. (Which, of course, was taxed, so he really only made a couple dollars over minimum wage). Even then, the bills continued to pile up, and his mother didn’t get near enough assistance from her disability checks for it to make a dramatic difference.
Not long after losing his scholarship, Lance buckled and found a third job as a house cleaner. Thankfully, it was a weekend job, something he did before the dinner shift at Blade. Needless to say, he loathed it. The cleaning itself wasn’t an issue- he did most of it at home nowadays- but the fact it fell under what a “typical” omega would be expected to do made a part of him wither and die on the inside.
While societal norms had evolved from the stories his grandparents had raised him on, there were still a fair number of people in the world who were desperate to cling on to the idea that omegas were meant to cook, clean, and bear children for their alphas. Nothing more, nothing less. A pretty object to be admired and designed for an alpha’s use only.
His mother was more open-minded than their neighbors and friends after he’d presented: while she didn’t actively approve of some of his activities, she didn’t listen to her friends and family and try to put Lance into a predetermined box, either. She’d been raised differently from her parents, just like they’d been raised differently from the generations prior to them. From some of what he’d heard about his father, on the other hand… he had believed in the traditionalism of secondary genders. Lance hadn’t been “assertive enough” before his presentation to be an alpha, and being a beta- a neutral party in secondary genders- hadn’t even been something his father considered.
Out of curiosity, Lance often wondered what his father would think of his eldest son becoming such an untraditional omega, his only daughter a beta.
It was thought in vain that he fought constantly with the third job, but he managed to convince his mother and siblings that everything was fine. He covered the bills, using his mother’s old notebook to ensure he stayed on track, taking on the role as the “pseudo-alpha” for lack of a better term to make sure everything stayed running smoothly. Rachel had offered to get a part time job, but Lance refused. He didn’t want her to worry about losing the chance to be a normal teenager, nor did he want Luis to feel any pressure trickling down their family unit to him. All he ever asked from his siblings was that they did their best in their classes so that they would be able to get into whatever college- or university- they set their minds to.
He used that thought to power the smile he plastered onto his face. Somehow, it never wavered under the pressure, remaining believable enough for even Rachel’s scrutinizing stare or Luis’ doubtful glances when he thought Lance wasn’t looking. It was fine. Even on the days he didn’t get an opportunity to eat- prioritizing his siblings and mother’s health over his own- or gain more than a twenty minute power nap between shifts, he managed to pull a mask over his real feelings.
Overall, things were going okay. Their mother got her medications, Lance ensured she got to her endless doctor’s appointments, packed onto the half rusted city bus that almost fell apart on the road, the pups were fed, bathed and clothed. He managed to tread water enough that he thought that they were finally catching a break.
At least, until everything crumbled underneath his feet.