Undercover Blue Riot (Transmigration)

Sign 10 Oblivious But Smart

"You look like someone I would worship if I was religious," Cyril wrote behind his notebook while he sat inside his Math class, "He told me. It rendered me speechless. I never have nothing to say, but now, I am lost. He seems to possess something I can't quite understand. It destroys my ability to think. But God, if it's him, I'd let him destroy me. He could take my throat and my eyes would sparkle at the mere inches between us,"

"Cyril Edwards, what solve the third equation please," His teacher said, "What are you doing back there?"
Cyril closed his notebook, "Erm, I'm trying to solve the previous equation,"
"Did you get an answer yet?"
"No," 

After school, Cyril jumped at Edgar's desk, "Edgar! Take me surfing with you!"
"Since when did you like surfing?" Edgar got up and picked Skyler on his back.
"Since yesterday! Just take me there!"
"Okay okay,"

The beach was full of teen boys and girls. Some of them were eating ice cream, others surfing. Edgar grabbed his surfboard, "You coming?"
"No, I got my books," Cyril held a book between his arms while Skyler slept under the beach umbrella, beside a little girl. 
"Who reads on the beach? Fuckin' 'ell mate! Wha'ever" Edgar ran towards the waves and screamed. He jumped into the water and went off into the water. 

Cyril watched him go and soon sneaked towards the rock where he met that brown-haired boy the other day. He climbed up and looked around, the wind was strong and his hair pierced his eyes, "Oh hell, it smells gross. Is something rotting down there?" He looked down the rock, slipped on the moss and fell into the water. He opened his eyes and looked around, seeing the multicoloured plants under the water seemed to light up under papules of light from the water surface.

He swam back up and caught his breath. He had lost his book in the water but that's not grasped his attention anymore. He pushed his head into the water and opened his eyes, and he could see all the pebbles on the shore, the water gently swinging itself like a baby's cradle. Something shone on the sand, Cyril pressed his hand on it and pulled it out. It was a broken Oyster shell, and something inside it was shining, he cracked the shell open and saw an almost fish-shaped, white pearl. 

"Wow..." He held it in his palm and looked at it for hours even after he came back home. He surfed on his computer, "Do Oysters have natural pearls?"
"Yes, they do. But those are very rare. Only 1 in about 10,000 wild oysters will yield a pearl," Cyril looked at the pearl, "I must be really lucky," He smiled. 

The next day, he waited on that rock for that brown-haired boy again. Wasn't he a surfer? Why couldn't he ever see him with other surfers in the ocean then? Where was he?
"CYRIL! Let's go home!" Edgar shouted from the seashore. 
"Coming!" Cyril got up and brushed his back,
"Oh hey, we meet again," 

That voice was familiar. Cyril quickly turned and the waves splashed against the rock, creating a huge splash behind his sunkissed body. Everything was lit orange, just like his eyes. And the water sprayed over both of them.
"H-Hello!" Cyril blushed.
"You come here often?"
"Yes! No, I mean, I don't come for you! I come here to-to...to get pearls!"
"You collect pearls? You're full of surprises. How about surfing though?" I asked.

"I am not interested in that," Cyril said.

"Why? It's fun!"
"Maybe. I like studying....about fishes, of course! And collecting shells. I don't like water sports, they seem so tiring,"
"All boys surf. Ain't you got that pure Aussie blood like me?"
"Hmm... I don't think so," Cyril laughed.

"Ah yes, you're a Greek god after all," He laughed.
"I'm not," Cyril laughed nervously, clashing his fingers behind his back.
"Man, I don't understand much but I think people who read poetry and books have the best vibe. You ought to teach me some of it, mate, I'm so gonna impress every woman I meet,"
That's the awful part about poetry. No matter how well you write it, you cannot make someone love you back.

Cyril smiled, "I will,"
He smiled back and looked at the sea while standing on that huge rock, "I like this rift, you know. It's like my special place. I always come here when I'm sad..." He looked at Cyril, "Listen, just please take care of yourself," He held his hand, "I wanna keep you for a very long time,"

"The ocean raineth on us
The rain kisses me thus. 

Waiting for him to wrap his name around my ribs. 
Waiting to meet a soul like his,

His face disappears, his essence is clear
My eyes unlove him, my mind take over. 

Making his voice ov'rpower the ocean, 
Thou bringth blue flowers, he bringth emotions.

Whatever he say, just let me know
If one fine day, he would want me too"

Love is something like falling stars, you know. It's pretty to look at from a distance, but it burns as it falls, and even though it gives you glitters in a dark sky, it vanishes very quickly. 

But you always have more falling stars to look at. 

"So like...I think I like guys. I'm not sure, I just think that,"
"Well, we can do a little experiment for that,"
"What experiment?"
"Let's have sex,"

And the star fell, the light vanished quickly, with a raging storm. It had light too, but it isn't light that grows you, it's a light that kills you. Because it gives you too much, and too much is never enough.

"Dad is sending me away to learn surfboarding this summer," They stand at the rift, he and Edgar, "He found out that I'm gay. He keeps trying to make me someone that I'm not. What do I do?" Cyril cried with bandages on his elbows and face.
Edgar's face lights up under that golden shower. It seems like it's raining light, everything is almost unreal, even his smile, "It's okay Cyril, we just need to find your best thing. Something that can't be taken away from you,"

"Does that even exist?"
"Of course, you just gotta find it. In fact, I'll help you. We'll find you your best thing, together,"

We'll find you your best thing, together.

"I have...Never thought about that," Cyril said as Tristian sat beside him, "But it is about letting it happen, I suppose. Because sometimes, it snows in summer, and weeds grow among roses. Unexpected things happen even though you're not prepared for it but you can't do anything about it,"

"And that's okay," Tristian said, "Our lives are made of so many people and when people become parts of our lives, some parts remain long after they leave. And in the same exact way, it's comforting to know there are so many lives you're still a part of that you have no idea about,"

Cyril smiled, "You're oblivious, but somehow super smart,"
"Thanks?" Tristian laughed. 
"...Don't put my name away," He said, "I will surf,"
"Really? Oh, thank God!" He hugged Cyril, "I can't tell you how relieved I am!"

He hugged him back,
'Your skin smells like light, I think, you are the moon,'

-To be continued

Tristian White
Undercover Blue Riot