Something Beautiful

1.2

Flashback

"Will you jump or not?" she asked, then chugged a bottle of gin. The fire liquid slid down her throat like how the perfect life she thought was burnt.

Being a mistress' daughter wasn't particularly a happy surprise.

Finding out at her mother's funeral was worse. She shouldn't have gone through her mother's things, letters and text messages, and get the shock of her life.

Now it made sense why her father would leave for weeks. That's why they spend Christmas and New Year's Eve calling him on the phone. He was not on business trips, but with the people who had the right to call him family.

Umi and her mother were the second, and the beggar of time.

"Cheers." The bottle landed with a faint clink knocked over. From the rooftop ledge she was sitting in, Umi watched the gymnasium across the football field, where their school was having the graduation ball.

Like her, maybe some of her schoolmates might also be tipsy from the spiked fruit punch as per grad ball tradition. No one would suspend students a day away from marching anyway.

Umi was thankful her seat was obscured by the shadow from a faraway floodlight. She peered at her unexpected company, who just minutes ago, invaded her solitude before the execution of escaping reality. Like her, he was not moving away from the ledge.

"Hey, wanna jump together? It's sad to die alone, you know."

Finally, he turned her. His name was Ethan Arnullo, the new guy who transferred during senior year. Despite the high marks and life on a gold platter, he's not in the ranks of good role models. They called him a problem child, with typical youthful confidence because there was no need to struggle at all.

Many wanted his attention. Except for a few friends, he did not socialize with others. She too, dreamed of being him, and nothing more. She was content watching him from afar.

Isn't there nothing more perfect than a 'good girl-bad boy' love story? ' Miss Ordinary-Mister Delinquent?' Now they are together, not in a sweet dream but a nightmare.

"Hey, are you going to jump or not?"

"I'm still thinking," he said, sitting not far.

"Do you think they have alcohol in heaven? Or like, do they spike fruit punches there too?"

"Why?"

"Liquor is banned there, I guess." Umi grinned and felt the wind on her cheeks. "Well, we won't go there anyway. It's just for the good."

"How about let's scratch the jumping part, just get drunk here?" he asked, squinting to see her in the dark.

"Here." She placed the bottle between them. "We could share."

He picked it up and took a chug, frowned and returned it in the middle. "Beer's better."

"But not a better anaesthetic. Do you want to die feeling your skull breaking?" She took another chug.

Since he was the only one the light reached, she could easily stare at his face, glaring at their shared bottle. Who would have thought that despite everything, they have similarities?

"Nice view."

Her thoughts were interrupted by the newcomer, the jacket owner. Umi watched him approach and sat next to her. "I thought the rooftop was off-limits."

"It is."

"Oh, so you're a baddie." He teased and raised a thumbs up at Umi. "Living life on the fast lane huh."

She tilted her head at the stranger, ignoring the nagging question of his relationship with Ethan. "I don't have your jacket anymore. And I'm not in the mood for a one night stand."

His laughter echoed on the roof and his eyes sparkled more than the solar panels. "Me too."

"What do you want? Who are you?"

Before he could answer, Ethan appeared from the rooftop door. "James, let's go."

"And you have to be a buzzkill while I'm having a great talk with my new friend. Great timing." He turned to Umi, his frown rearranged to a hopeful smile. "What's your name?"

"We're not friends."

"Werenotfriends." He shrugged. "Cool name. I'm James, James Manofyourdreams. Nice meeting you."

He took her palm for a handshake. Umi flinched and pulled away. He went on like nothing and pointed at the newcomer. "And that's my older bro, Ethan."

I know. But she kept the thought to herself.