Miscellaneous

XIV- James

Sprawled on my bed like a starfish, I'm utterly pathetic. For someone as salient and almost, sanctimonious as me, it's demeaning to be this caught up in the thought of having a girl wrapped around my finger.

One thing I can't seem to figure out, with the battle my heart and mind are facing, is if I want her wrapped around my finger or have my arms wrapped around her.

It's driving me out of my mind, rocking my shit even.

When I hear my phone vibrate against the bed sheets, I take my time to even get up. It's like I'm zoned out, yet I'm not. My body wants to lie down and forget all about it but my mind wants more—more hate, more violence, more torture, more revenge. Yet, my heart aches for me to avoid that, as if it's the angel on either my shoulder demanding that I stay righteous.

Fuck it, I pick up the phone.

"Dude, James, you won't believe what just happened right now." One of my friends, Kai, is says over the phone "I wrote another hit again."

Kai has this undescribable love for music and writing that I have quite never seen in my life. He views music as a revelation, a means of saving, a language of it's own. Every single word means something and anything is way more than it seems at first glance. At least, that's what he tells me.

Me? I couldn't give two shits about someone's insides, it's all about what they give to the world. That's about it.

"This Russian girl came over and I couldn't help but write a song about her. She was just that breathtakingly beautiful." He continues. "She's still here, you should definitely come over to see what beauty I've gotten to witness."

That too, is a classic Kai aspect. Speaking of women like they're some idol worth being worshipped with their 'breathtaking beauty' and 'enticing, surreal, visuals' that he can't seem to comprehend. Everytime Kai sees a woman, you would think he's never seen one but with the charm he carries and ushers women with, you can tell he's a professional. A flirt and a poet, he's got the oddest of mixes.

"Come on dude, pretty please? For your friend who's an utter dissapointment?" He pleads. For once, I'm not going to argue because here I am, lying on my bed uselessly thinking of a self-entitled, infuriating, gorgeous, breathing—

Yeah, no, we'll stop at that.

I press the phone to my ear and get myself out of bed, "Sure thing, I'll be there in a bit."

It's clear he's smiling through the screen because I hear him sigh in relief before replying. "I'll be waiting for you, and I repeat, Ms. Pretty russian girl is waiting, don't dissapoint."

With that, we hang up and next thing I know, I'm at my closet trying to find something to wear. For some reason, every sweater looks too formal, every shirt looks too showy, and every damned pair of pants makes me feel like an idiot. This has always been my strongest suit, yet suddenly, it isnt and that too is driving me out of my mind.

"You look like an idiot, Charmaine would laugh at you." I whisper while trying on a shirt by the mirror, only to realize the sentence I had uttered out loud. Instantly, I am pacing around the room repeating words to myself just to get everything straightened.

Once I've convinced myself that event hadn't occurred, I go back to rummaging my closet although still, nothing looks even close to decent. So I settle with the first pair of pants and shirt I manage to put my hands on—a plain black shirt and trousers.

I wish I knew who's funeral I was celebrating Maybe the death of my sanity.

"Lara, Zion, I'll be at Kai's place for a while." I announce once I'm downstairs, as I put my good old coat on. I'm only met by waves and eyes that won't even get off the screen to look at me. I find it amusing how these two bond over anything, even the most boring of shows. At least, they have that.

At least they have eachother.

As I'm closing the door behind me and walking to the gates, I watch my mom's car drive into the premises. My feet won't move when I'm around that woman, nor am I even physically able to utter any words of affection. Her car stops short right beside me and her window slowly rolls down, revealing her face that's bathed in all sorts of sparkles and makeup. Her teardrop earrings are prominent, her eyebrows are permanently angry, and her hair is styled carefully.

"To where, boy?"

I shrug, feeling the usual anger surge inside me. She's staring into me as she awaits a reply and I can't help but sigh heavily, "Kai's place. We're going to work over our homework and help eachother out."

She kisses her teeth, "And you were planning to do what, take the bus?"

"Obviously, what else does it look like I'm going to? I'll take the bus and be there in no time. Sounds good?"

Instead of replying, she opens the car door and stares at me sternly. I stand there, refusing to move but the height of the silence scared me so much that I had no choice but to ride with her.

She doesn't say anything at all, just drives quietly with both hands firmly on the wheel. I don't say anything either, afraid of even breaking the silence that's swimming between us aggressively. Every turn we make means one step closer to Kai's place, and one step closer to getting out of this uncomfortable front seat.

It's not the seat, technically, I'm just sitting very stiffly with both hands balled up. Everything about her just makes me want to stay alert, ready for anything, prepared for her questions, shielded from her words.

"We're here." Her voice fills the car and I realize that I was drowning in my thoughts this whole ride. I don't even look at her as I leave, avoiding any reason to say anything to her.

She holds me back, her saloon-done nails practically almost digging into my skin. "James."

I turn to face her but all I can focus on is her hand gripping my arm. It irks me, I dont like when she touches me, in fact, I despise it. It makes my skin crawl and reminds me of all the times I was a little kid crying, begging, for her to hold me just once but she would look away as if I wasn't dying in my own skin.

Talk about heartless. Like mother, like son.

"Have fun with Kai. Love you." The last part came out of her mouth as her teeth grinded with one another and her eyes looking at anything but me. She doesn't mean it, I know that, but it bothers me still even when I say it doesn't.

It bothers me so much that I walk as fast as possible to Kai's house and knock on the door like a madman. I knock and ring the doorbell at the same time, out of how much I simply don't want to be around her, not even a second longer. The door swings open and Kai is standing at the doorway with confusion painted all over his face, "What the hell was all that about?"

Well here goes the real James, gone, to be replaced by the facade James in the count of three. "Oh, just needed to use the washroom." I lied, but not putting the effort to actually go the washroom.

Kai doesn't seem to notice, instead, he chuckles before taking the headset off his ears. "So, you ready to behold the most ravishing person to have every existed?"

"For sure." I say. "Isn't Mrs. Porter-Jung going to be pissed you're walking around the house shirtless, though?"

He seems to only register that he's shirtless now, looking down to behold his ownself. At just seventeen, he's got three different tattoos, a waist smaller than practically anyone I've ever met, and a physique you could admire all day. It's clear he takes care of himself, with the way he's body looks, to his well-maintained hair.

I wasn't kidding when I said he's a ladies' man.

Throwing me a light punch on the shoulder, he grins. "Oh you're gonna definitely score me and her a date with your Russian. Right?"

I grin back, "Right, buddy."

Right.

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