91Chapter Two
Dai is so fucking easy to draw.
I pencil in the curve of his nose. My eyes are fixated on his serene face as I scan the imaginary contours and transfer them to paper. He's snoring right now but it's a peaceful kind of snore, almost like a drone with its own melodic quality. It is almost a comfort. Almost.
I sweep my fingers across the page to smudge in some semblance of shadow and reality to his lips, to make them feel more real and get that soft touch that I can never pull off but doesn't stop me from trying.
Dai may be fucking easy to draw but that doesn't mean I'm getting it right every single time. He never looks as good on paper as he does in real life. Nothing could ever justify how pretty he really is until you've actually seen him in the flesh. I know I hurt him earlier with my words but they're true because life is fucking tough. Things aren't always sugar-coated and handed to you on a spoon.
It's late but I can't sleep. These bouts of insomnia are always the best and worst times for me. I sigh heavily in frustration before chucking my pencil onto the floor, shoving my sketchbook off of my lap and getting up with a languid stretch. It is way too hot even though the window is open and for what felt like the umpteenth time today I felt that kick to my memory: that need for nicotine.
Patting my pockets and coming up with one, I quickly stick it in my mouth and light up, my lungs automatically drawing in to inhale the bittersweet poison taste that I hate but I can't seem to get enough of it. Therefore, I love it. I perch myself on the windowsill, leaning out a little over the ledge to peek at the street below. It's not so far down and there is barely any traffic, as per usual when it has just gone a little past one.
If I glance up, I'm pretty sure I'd be able to still see a faint twinkling smatter of stars across the dark velvet of sky but I don't look up and continue to look down instead, idly musing the peaceful hum of the atmosphere as it settles around the neighbourhood. I say hum because in a district like this, there is no such thing as something being completely silent or peaceful. There is always that kind of indistinct drone that tingles at your senses, that reminds you that there is no such thing as utter quiet. If I really focus my mind I can still hear the sounds around me, reminiscent of the previous day. Clanging pots and pans in grimy kitchens that almost drown out the ailing wail of a baby, badly muffled moaning of names through papery thin walls, desperate screaming followed by hiccupping sobs tainted with angst. I hear it all, I listen to it all.
Even now I can hear the building expand and contract, almost as if it is breathing evenly after the day's usual chaos, each apartment settling down into an easy disposition to relax while its occupants sleep on with plaguing dreams, nightmares, hopes, and fears - wishes.
I watch the end of my cigarette burn as I take a long drag, the ashy embers flaring. I can almost hear the paper crackle and crumble as a mild imitation of conflagration races in existence inside the stick, consuming the dangerous substances in this tiny white stick. It bears a striking resemblance to someone I know, someone I know everything about yet nothing at all - completely fractured.
The cheap plumbing gurgles, my decrepit fridge begins to pulsate and Dai lets out a long, fluttering murmur of a sigh. The sound makes my head turn to his inert figure draped over my sofa, my eyes flickering away from the view of the empty, filthy streets of this forgotten neighbourhood to favour the sight of my best friend, face smooth without worry. Not for the first time, I contemplate why he is here.
"Sebastian?" the sound of my name draws me out from the world I had slipped into and I look up from where I had been smudging gray lines all over my latest ruined sketch. I don't see why I even bother; I could smudge all I like to create the effect of softness to blend with the peaceful, innocence blooming across his pencilled face but I could never get it so perfect, so chaste. So real like him. I study the nose, the lips and the perfect-oval shape of his face. It all looks so distorted, like a child's drawing. It is pure imitation, erroneous and without a semblance of meaning.
"Sebastian, have you been doing that all night?" Dai follows up his question with a wide yawn as he looks over to me, not bothering to cover up with his hand. I wrinkle my nose.
"What?"
"That, your smudging." He gestures to me as he pulls his arms high up above his head. His hair is sticking out randomly, I notice and I suddenly feel an urge to draw again, to see if I could get his hair to stick up as perfectly on paper as it is sticking up now. But then I brush it away, I'd ruin it before I'd even get to his hair.
"I guess." I shrug before tossing the book to one side and getting up to go see if there's anything worth eating in the fridge or cupboards. Dai stops me though, pushing himself off of the couch.
"Wait, Seb, don't bother." He looks uncomfortable as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his wrinkled jeans. He shifts from foot to foot, looking down at his sock covered feet. At first, I'm confused but then I remember it's a Sunday.
"Just go." I sigh heavily. His parents hate me enough as it is, I don't need them to hate me more.
Dai looks lost, utterly torn between his duty in the Akita household and his desire to want to stay with me. I know he does because between his asshole best friend and God-fearing parents, obviously I'm the best choice. Got a big ego? Why yes, yes I do.
"Seb –"
"I know, I know. Just go already Dai; I'll see you later anyway." I wave him off and he shoots me a quick grateful smile. "I'm only doing this because I don't want your parents to rape me for missing one tiny little service." I roll my eyes at him. It's not like I actually need him anyway, I'm fine as I am. Never needed anyone before, won't start needing anyone now. Too much baggage and burden and all that shit.
"Still..." Dai's voice is all quiet and I want to punch him. He thinks everytime I let him go I'm like fucking God himself or something. That I'm actually helping not to get his ass chewed out. Well, I am actually because if Dai gets his ass chewed out, he can't come see me. And then I'd be bored shitless.
"Shut the fuck up and go already, bitch." I throw my hands up in the air and turn my back on him. It doesn't matter; I'm seeing him later anyway at the club. He owes me hard alcohol and I sure as hell am not going to forget that. It's fucking free, man!
I hear the forcefulness of the slam as Dai exits and I open the fridge, bending down to peer at its contents and taking out some milk. I'm in luck today as I turn it around in my hands and close the fridge door with my foot, it expires tomorrow. Setting the white carton on the table, I reach up and rootle through the cupboards before coming across some old cornflakes. With nothing else in sight, I just chuck them in a cracked bowl and set to eating with a plastic spoon. It fucking sucks living like this because I don't have the credentials to get a job that's even halfway decent. No, I'm stuck working in some diner where everytime I come home, I smell like cheap grease and cigarettes.
Another door somewhere along the hallway slams loudly and in response, a baby begins to wail. This is then followed by some shouting and a thump before everything goes soft though I can still hear small, hiccupping sobs. They fade in and out like someone is trying to muffle them.
I dig my spoon in to get some more soggy cereal and my eyes travel to the clock on the counter telling me the wrong time. Five thirty, it says.
I eventually finish up, my apartment eerily quiet yet too loud at the same time. Does that even make sense? No, I didn't think so either. I feel like utter shit though.
Wandering back into the living room, I grab my sketchbook and open it to my latest page which screams pure trash to me. I only glance at it for a mere second before tearing it out and scrunching it up. It's all wrong, wrong, and wrong because I've totally ruined it, like I always do. Once it's in a small, scrunched up paper ball, I walk into my room all the while juggling it in my hands casually and at the last second, I spin and toss it into the basket near my bed. It falls in with a satisfying sigh.
Who the hell gets sick on a Sunday? And during the summertime no less!
"Oi, look alive there boy!" the manager nudges my form which is currently sprawled out across the counter, my face pressed against the coolness of the cheap material. I ignore him though and he just mutters at me in disgust before moving on. I'm pretty sure I'm inhaling bacteria and germs but right now, I just can't be bothered. Seriously, that's their fault for calling me in.
"Um, excuse me...is this place open?" The sound of a soft woman's voice breaks into my consciousness and I look up to see this humble light brown haired woman who looks so timid and frightened and is built like a stick. For one second, I'm afraid if I speak she'll blow away and break something and then sue me. But that's just stupid.
"I don't know, read the sign." I straighten, looking straight at her with a bored expression. Her eyebrows pull together and her lips purse. Okay, so maybe she isn't as frail as she looks.
"Is there a problem here?" My manager, a pimply-faced moron attempts to look all assertive and strong but actually comes off looking completely retarded, staring at her like she's the fucking second coming of Christ.
"Ye –"
"No. This lovely customer was just about to order something. What was that again, madam?" I go all snobby and posh to piss her off and it works because her eyebrows knit together in frustration but she pastes a smile on her face anyway.
"One salad, one veggie burger and two cokes, please." She orders all sweet and my manager, whose name happens to be Ned, just beams back at her from my side. I want to shove him off a cliff.
Would you like a huge helping of fat that will clog your arteries up and cause you a slow suicide by heart disease? "Would you like some fries with that?"
"Um, no th-"
"Yeah, I want! Please?!" a small, wispy voice pipes up from nowhere and the woman rolls her eyes before turning to her side and speaking to the small kid who seemed to have popped up from nowhere.
I hate kids. Like, I literally, seriously hate them. Babies, toddlers, kids, I fucking hate all of them. I can't even stand Dai's siblings. Not like they can stand me either but anyway, I digress. I just hate kids. They're all snotty and bratty and fucking all over the place. They can fall over a cliff too with Ned.
The first thing I notice about this kid is she's blonde. Not the kind of normal blonde but like that...shiny gold that shimmers perfectly when the sunlight hits it. It's all willowy and hangs around her pale, oval face. The second thing I notice is how skinny she is. Literally, she looks like she's spent all her life in fucking Africa or something and just came to the States a year or so ago. If that woman is a stick, this kid is a dead twig.
"No, honey, you know –"
"Mom, please! I want, just this once!" God, it's a brat. I cock my eyebrow as I watch the significant slump of the woman's shoulders (the mother, which I find hard to believe because she looks so...plain compared to this golden child) indicating she has already given in. I almost admire the kid though; her bright cobalt eyes are pleading and round, putting the whole puppy dog expression to shame.
"Fine. One fries. Oh and get it to go, please." The mother just sighs heavily and the kid smiles so widely, leaping on her mom. She can't be more than, what, ten or eleven I'm guessing?
I ring up the order and disappear into the back, leaving Ned there to gawp at her still. Christ. However, once I come back out, Ned is nowhere to be seen and the woman is tapping impatiently on the counter.
"Thanks." She flashes me a brief smile before heading out to the empty parking lot. Strangely enough, her kid is still there and is staring at me. I feel uncomfortable, I hate kids who stare at me because it usually means they are going to say something stupid or ask an idiotic question and only because they're young, I refrain from hitting them. Otherwise, they would have been knocked into last week. After a few seconds of the kid just staring at me with her unnervingly bright eyes – because they are unnervingly bright – I feel the temptation to run and call after the mom that she's forgetting something.
"I like your lip ring; it matches your pretty eyes." The kid breaks out into a crooked, lopsided smile which allows me a glimpse of the small gap between two of her front teeth. She then turns around and runs out, glancing back at me just before she gets into the car.
Kids just keep getting weirder and weirder, I muse as I tongue my green lip ring.
meh. didn't bother to reread it through. i just finished it and i felt like posting it because i'm just in that mood. i still have a mountain of things to do though, yuck.
anyway, yes, sebastian is very much an ass.
i would like to thank everyone who reviewed the last chapter, i was so happy to see some support for my new story even if this is a bit different. your opinions mean the world to me and really do help me to update/improve! i love every single one of you! please review! :D
xo, effay.