Contrasting Reality

A Young Boy Named Anthony

Once upon a time, there was a young boy named Anthony.

He was smart, handsome and absolutely charming.

He was the best of the best.

Anthony had many friends.

After all, everyone loved Anthony.

He strode into school, just like any other morning. His ironed shirt was tucked into his pants, his tie neatly folded into place. His shoes were gleaming in the sunlight with every step he took. He smiled at all the students and teachers walking past him, subtly nodding every now and then.

"Good morning, Mr. Ford." a man with hair just the slightest bit grey greeted him.

"Good morning to you too, Mr. Stein. I am looking forward to our new assignment for this term."

"Yes, it is quite the assignment. I'm sure, you'll find this one a challenge."

"A challenge? Oh, nothing is ever a challenge for me. You, of all, should know how superior my skills are."

"Well, it is different from previous assignments. However, I will say that I am excited about what you'll do. Toodles!"

He stared at the fading image of the man in the distance.

"Nothing is ever a challenge for Tony Ford."

A poem! A free-form poem of all things!

"Does he really believe it is that hard to write a poem?"

A classmate of his turned on his seat to face him.

"Well, I suppose not all of us are so amazing like you, Tony."

"Of course, I know that. But don't fret, Julian. I'm sure you'll come second."

"Whatever." He promptly turned back.

Tony smirked.

"Friendship...is not something you learn in school. But if you haven't learnt the meaning of friendship, you really haven't learnt anything." (- Muhammad Ali)

He stared blankly at the prompt for the poem he had to submit.

He'd never written a poem with a prompt. It constricted him, which was ironic considering this was free-form. Maybe this was the challenge Mr. Stein was referring to.

Unfortunately, he was at a metaphorical road block.

What exactly was he supposed to write about? A personal experience? Perhaps not. He had plenty of friends, but he didn't interact with them very often.

He fiddled with his pen for a moment.

It was time, it seemed, to see exactly what his friends did outside of class.

"Hello, Julian. How are you this fine evening?"

"AAH! Wh- don't do that! Wait...what are you doing here, Tony?"

Tony leaped in through the window, landing gracefully on his feet.

"It was rather difficult for me to find a ladder, but you know already don't you? Nothing is too challenging for me."

"Uh...what? No, I mean, why are you here? In my bedroom? In my house? How did you even know where I lived?" Julian's voice got higher and higher with every question.

"Oh, silly Julian. This is why you come second," was the only explanation Tony gave him before sitting on his bed, legs-crossed.

A minute of silence passed before Julian cleared his throat, uncomfortable from Tony's intense gaze.

"You know, you didn't answer my question. I asked why you were here."

"I'm here because you're my friend. And friends often have sleepovers and whatnot. Or am I incorrect to say this is what friends do?"

Julian was, for a lack of better word, shocked.

"Are you serious? Are you actually serious? Or are you just messing around? I honestly can't tell."

Tony furrowed his brows. "Why wouldn't I be serious? Are you telling me this is not what friends do?"

"First of all Tony, you broke into my house. I could get you arrested for this. Se-"

"Oh, come off it. Like there's anything worth stealing here."

"Secondly," he stressed the word, "we. Are not. Friends."

"Now you're just being cruel, Julian. What about all of our friendly banters?"

"I only ever spoke a sentence or two. Just because I talked to you a few times doesn't automatically make us friends."

"A friendly rivalry?"

"For you maybe. But I'd rather not be linked to the teacher's pet. Especially one as narcissistic as you."

Tony stared at him... And stared.

When Julian's words finally sunk into his brain, he had this stinging feeling.

"I see." And with that, he leapt out through window again.

Only this time, there was no ladder to climb down.

Tony mindlessly made his way down the street, head hanging low. He kicked a stray rock onto the road.

He brought his hand up to his chest, rubbing it in an attempt to get rid of that weird feeling.

He looked up at the distant stars, or at least, the distant stars that would have been there if not for the dark clouds.

Something warm dripped down his face. He wiped it away subconsciously but all for moot. Water began to pour down, washing away his thoughts on what just transpired between him and his frie- no, his classmate.

He didn't need any friends.

He was better off by himself.

"Now remember, the poem is due tomorrow. I hope you've all written and polished your work."

The poem? Yes, of course, the poem. How could he ever forget?

"Probably going to get an A++, right Tony the magnificent?" Julian taunted him.

Tony packed up his books and walked out of class.

Julian raised an eyebrow.

"What's gotten up his ass?" Julian's friend asked.

"His head, obviously." Julian hesitated for a second, before continuing, "remember when I told you about that time he broke into my house?"

"That guy's unbelievable."

"I know right? Let's go."

Once upon a time, there was a young boy named Anthony.

Once upon a time, there was a young brat named Anthony.

He was smart, handsome and absolutely charming.

He was insufferable, narcissistic and absolutely arrogant.

He was the best of the best.

He was the worst of the worst.

Anthony had many friends.

Anthony never made a friend.

After all, everyone loved Anthony.

After all, everyone hated Anthony.