Celestial & Horizon (1)

cloud // star 008

Horizon:

     "You mean to tell me you have your own laptop," his best friend, Allen, slowly says, the sun blazing on their backs and the winds howling in their ears, "but you have absolutely no idea what to do with it?" 

     Horizon lets out a frustrated scream, muffled by the hands on his face. "I thought this was already established. Can you please not make me sound like an incompetent... whatever?"

     "Like what? Lost and stupid? You're doing that on your own." Ducking the soccer ball Horizon lobs at his head, Allen chuckles. "My friend, this is gold. Oh, the things I can tell you—"

     "Tell me sites I won't have to erase my history for," Horizon deadpans, eyes rolling as he leans against the goal post. Soccer practice on weekdays were supposed to be fun, but all Horizon can think of is his new little toy resting in his room. 

     Allen purses his lips. "You're a disgrace for teenage boys everywhere. Fine." After a moment of deliberation, Allen tilts his head. "So... what are you looking for? Like, the usual? Facebook, Tumblr?"

     Allen wrinkles his nose. "Uh, not a big fan of having all my dad's elite friends' kids' befriending me. Pass. God knows I have to put up with a status already outside of the web. And I'm a little iffy with Tumblr because it seems like too much work trying to appeal to everyone? But I mean, I like the idea of blogs in general, I think." 

      "Blogs? Sport ones?" 

      Contemplating, Horizon finally shakes his head. He wants very much a footprint that can bring him boats of knowledge, but also something he'd enjoy. "I'll just search up some when I'm at home. Who knows? It's not like I have free time with everything." 

      Allen grins, kicking the soccer all on the tip of his foot. "Okay, Golden Boy, we all know you can do anything you want." 

      With a light heart and a carefree smile, Horizon wishes to believe it true.

•∞•

Celestial:

     "You're falling behind in classes," Celestial's father slaps the her English report onto the cherry red table. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

      Celestial fingers a lock of her honey comb hair, stroking it with her index and thumb mindlessly. "That... my teacher was a biased hypocrite who only wanted us to agree to what she had to say?"

      "Watch your tone, Celestial," her mother warns from the kitchen. "Darling, we know you can do better than this. What's the real reason this turned out so... unsatisfactory?" 

     "It's the first time I've ever gotten a C!" argues Celestial timidly. "I promise it's a one time thing. I had a designing inspiration the night before and I completely forgot about this." 

     Her mother walks into the living room, a towel in her hands to dry her recently wet hands. "Awful excuse. Honey, you need to pull yourself together! This blog of yours isn't going to be the thing paying your bills if you continue with this nonsense."

     Groaning, their daughter sinks farther in her chair. The same rant she'd been getting for four years, just modified every other word, isn't the way Celestial imagined her day going. Her high from coming up with a brilliant dress idea is slipping between her fingers, plummeting like an asteroid breaking atmosphere.

     "We'll get you a tutor if we have to. Now, we're not all that upset you haven't been doing your best." Thanks, mom. "But I hope you know we're kind of ashamed we had to find out by your marks rather than from you you're struggling with your work."

     "I'm fine, mom, it's just one paper. I'll be able to get my bearings back together again."

     If she had the energy to reconstruct the very thing she broke in the first place.

•∞•