PART TWENTY-SEVEN: DEAR

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I felt all the nerves in my skin drop, the air was nowhere near as cold but warm. Everyone was home, and they were having a party.

Wayne grabbed my hand and rushed to the center of the room, "Charlie, let's dance."

"Rode, thank you for covering my shift. Me and Fiona are back on good terms," Harry said, patting her back and she stroked back. "Ow. No need to hit my shoulder, you know?" He looked at my eyes and said, "What's the matter? You don't want to have fun for once."

"Get him in the pile. Let's have another sing-song of Under Pressure. Shall we? You know Jade's been waiting for a goddamn mile for a high note," Fiona added.

"No, I'm not. You're the one who was conversing with the karaoke," Jade replied.

The next second, they dragged me across the room and we partied hard. The next thing I knew I woke up feeling hungover. What did I drink that got me this headache? The first time I drank alcohol was with my family, it was a reunion of our lineage. There was Julie, my sister, handing everyone champagne and making a toast. I might be young but she made me have a taste of garnering champagne without anyone noticing. It had a feminine taste, not strong but sweet.

Luckily, I didn't get drunk that night, and it was the first drink I had until I became nineteen—the mature age of alcohol. I didn't celebrate during my adulthood because I was busy to not irritate my college applications. When I drank the bottle of champagne, I didn't enjoy the taste. It must've been my taste buds, but last night must've been somewhat unusual.

My insides were feeling uneasy and with all the throbbing headaches making me like this, I ran over to the kitchen and onto the lavatory to gush out all of my inner guts. All of a sudden, I hear a mellifluous voice.

"Rode, are you okay? Doesn't seem like you're okay," it was Jade pouring water on a glass. "Drink this after you wash up."

I got up and washed up before heading to the dining room to see everyone doing well.

"What the hell happened last night? Don't tell me I did something bad." I asked, holding my forehead as if it were throbbing and everyone staring as if they saw the latest magazine cover.

"Let's just say. Last night, you were wild," Wayne replied.

"I...was wild? What?"

"The moment you drank the wine, you kept going on and on," Fiona said, pointing at the bottle of the wine. "We suddenly had the urge to bring that to celebrate your success."

"Wait, what success?"

Wayne pressed everyone by holding them as he said, "Rode, your novel sold out in the whole city of Florida."

"What? Wasn't that published like two months ago? How is that possible?"

"Like yesterday, in my workplace, I got a call and it was a publishing store. You know how my boss likes a manuscript of everything." Wayne said, felicity.

"Uh huh, how is that success?"

"I asked for your book actually. But then, they said that the book sold out days ago in the whole of Florida. As in the goddamn city, There He Was Alone isn't found in the bookstores because Charlie, it is sold out everywhere."

"All this time, I was drawing in vain for nothing. Gosh, I need another wine."

"Charlie, don't. Last night was enough," Harry insisted for me to stop.

"Okay, I'll stop. No need to worry about me." I felt like I needed to make up for them and I suggested, "What if I publish a new novel that will include us?"

Fiona said, "That's incredible. Can I be your main character?"

"When will you start on it?" Jade asked.

"For those inquiries, I'm making a poetry book. I might as well start it."

"I knew it. I was hoping back then, you would vigorously express yourself in a poetry book. Not only does it fit your personality but also your determination in life," Jade added.

"That's right, the Adventure poem. That's something I would like to witness again in that book of yours." Fiona said, looking extremely excited.

"This will take a long while. I mean, take your lovers out. I finally have work to do."

For a while, I didn't have a lot of work to do. It took a milestone for inspiration to come, and I would often write in my journal. Notes that I may as well include in the novel, e.g., Fiona joining the Mr. and Ms. East High and she ended up taking the crown home.

I didn't imagine the novel I published two months ago would get recognition. I got a phone call from the distributor saying the book selling was doing great from the first weeks but I rarely hear those words in the next weeks. I thought I was failing.

Right now, I see no fear, no arguments, and no hatred. I hope that everything is already resolved, most especially with yesterday's argument with Harry and Fiona. I never imagined their spectacular relationship would remain at this age.

With this tiny breath of air, It feels great to hear poetry in books. I began to type out the first words of the chapter.

"dear child,
you're forgiven
but skedaddled
fires were lit up
so bright
that you forgot to look
it was shattered
your ornamental heart
by that time,
you got there
leaves waiting across the door
drenched with thorns
days were as usual,
the deer are lost on you
Faith is marked to me
pulling you back
from where it all began
so lead me,
through your biggest worries
that fell on you."

I named it "dear child, the deer are lost on you." I took inspiration from the time when Wayne broke up with his lover and sadness dwelt on him that the deer he had before was gone. I mean, I've got to admit it. Angelo was a douchebag—a real one for dating another person at the same time when Wayne was dating him. I mean, why?

Regardless of that, poems are a means of metaphors, and take a while to understand the meaning of literature. They take figures, metaphors, inspirations, and rhythms. I don't want to rush, so I head to bed for a long break.

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