To Those Who Don't Belong

7

"George," I had been thinking about this question since yesterday now, "would it be so bad if we did what we...um... you know...did?"

"Ritchie, I really don't care about what happened," so, he doesn't care if we had sex. He must not love me.

"Oh, I see," I looked at the ground like it was a sad child I couldn't help.

"No, Rings, you don't-" that's all I had to hear. I was done with this.

"No, George. I get it. I'll just go home," I grabbed my phone and left. I quickly dodged everyone in the halls of the crowded apartment. Why was it so crowded?

I turned around to investigate, still more sad than angry. I heard the most curious giggle down the stairs. I let curiosity fake over my mind as I ran down the stairs, instantly meeting multiple reporter's flashing cameras in every which direction.

"It takes much more than curiosity to enter cosmic consciousness," these words were followed by another silly little giggle. I got a closer look at the figure. He looked like an old guru. His sign read, "Meditation and Eastern Mysticism." Sounded interesting.

I had by then forgotten about George. I probably sat there for a whole hour, mesmerized by this curious man's voice and ways if living. Meditating for 15 minutes a day, going vegetarian, and th idea of karma. It wasn't too foreign, but my family may have thought I was bonkers for choosing to do all of those things. But, that didn't mean I wasn't going to do all those things. The giggly man made very great points when talking. I was almost sucked into his universe. I had to tell George. George... what to do about him...

Sorry this is so short. Again, I made this chapter short so the next chapter could be what I wanted it to be.