The pain of Turnabouts ~ An Ace Attorney Fanfiction

Chapter 2 ~ Books

Phoemix abandoned himself at his desk in an air of general discontent that left an invisible dark aura around him. His companions tried to intercede but, after having dismissed them, Phoenix put on the headphones with the music at a splitting volume, to prevent himself from thinking, and began to study the lesson explained just before under the astonished gaze of his neighbors.
He wasn't a genius, Phoenix knew that. He was not like Miles and for this he had to work harder than anyone to succeed in his intent.
Phoenix lost his thoughts among the rows of words printed in the book. After several years they were finally freeing themselves from that maniac of the father. Sure, Phoenix expected tough times, but he was going to make it. He had already found a small part-time job and then, in a few years, he would have a respectable lawyer job with which to live and support even his poor, fragile mother.
He only broke off when the end-of-interval bell drowned out the sound of his music. He put the phone away, diligent but still downcast and, as the professor began to explain, he pulled out his sketch pad to run some small errands. He had opened a small site where people asked him for drawings and he sold them. He also did it at fairs, he didn't earn too much but it was enough to do some shopping and to support himself.

Miles returned to class after a few minutes, to give everyone the impression that he had eaten. Not that anyone actually cared about him. Nobody there paid any attention to what he was doing. As he entered he saw Phoenix, bent over the books. He didn't remember him so studious.
He went in his place, not looking at him again, his fingers tapping his pants seven times each.
Did Phoenix still draw? Did Larry still enjoy playing football and watching summer afternoons? And above all, why if he was asking?
"You don't have to ask yourself anything, Miles. You just have to study, and thank me if you don't stay in a filthy family home." Those were the words of his stepfather. And he, silent, obeyed that omnipresent man in his mind.

****

Phoenix let the school day slip through his fingers. He took advantage of all the empty times to study as much as possible, the rest would continue in the evening after dinner. His hands smeared with graphite, he stood up, quickly loading his backpack on his shoulder.
Miles couldn't help but look at him.
The other noticed it and he pretended not to have done it intentionally. He had had his chance to greet him, to get closer. He had wasted it, rejected it. She had made the decision to stay away from him.
Phoenix squared his shoulders, annoyed at being ignored.
Well, if he had decided that business of him! He hurriedly headed for the door, walking past him but treating him as if he were transparent.

"Call him back. Tell him something. Tell him how much you missed him. Tell him it was clutching your keychain that you put up with your stepfather. Tell him how much you hoped, for years, to find him. Tell him how much you cried when the dog died. Run by. him. Begging him to hug you because you can't. Say something, whatever, but don't let it go like that. "
But of course, Miles couldn't do any of those things.

****

Larry had already dated other classmates and he couldn't wait for him. He was in a bad mood all the way from school to work. Phoenix had taken a job in a bookstore. A well-organized job that occasionally allowed him to peek a few paragraphs from school books and carry on.
He leaned against the green gate waiting to see Frankiska's little head of fair hair. He saw her coming, followed by a group of girlfriends hanging from her lips.
-Ziska! All right I presume? -
"Sure," she said with a big smile. She was already a small leader.
-I'm proud of you, sister. Between us, you're the best with friendships-
-I bet you went very badly- she guessed. -You will have incinerated anyone who dared to greet you. I bet, fool brother! -
Miles didn't answer.

When Phoenix arrived at his workplace they had him put in a uniform a little too small for his body which was already beginning to be the well grown one of an adult. As they explained what he had to do, he saw the familiar figure of Miles pass by the windows, followed by a young girl.