Tuesday 12 October 2010

Papercut. Chapter 9.

Rome? Rome?

A nickname?

A given nickname.

A mere nickname for a laugh coming out of his lips. I stand there like a dummy. I barely had any nicknames. I glance at him surely he had no bad intention even some sort of warm greeting, like a smile before coming friends. It was a friendly gesture which I can return only how? I mean, yeah, I had friends with who I traded video games with, discussed classmates, mostly girls and gossipped about the guys and who dated who. Actually on those talks they’d roll their eyes knowing that I had Lola and had no intention of switching to somebody else.

To cheat.

No matter how they mocked me for not doing anything pimpy, not understanding what the word loyalty meant, I just went on to the next date we had. I guess it really was something we both shared, something which I shattered.

Now it was like a nice, new start.

With Melvin. Only nothing physical and nothing as intimate.

“You’re the first Melvin I know, Mel.” I say with a smile shortening his name. Crap, crap. Mel is like a short version of Melanie. Damn. I bite my lip awaiting Melvin’s reaction, as Frankie mutteres something under his breath, amazed that our inner school girls are controlling us, as they are stroking their boyfriend's hair.

Mel gives out a laugh and grins back, throwing his other arm around me smiling at his new nickname. Aproove? It was nothing special, I suppose I could call him Melv or his full name but I decided to try it and shorten his name just like he did mine. It was like returning that smile with a wave.

And I got a small wave back.

And just like that we walked into the circle to introduce ourselves to the others.

Maybe we look like complete idiots with Melvin’s arms around us, holding us close, together, as he hung on us looking proud as we are some sort of trophy. I am the shortest of them all compared to Frankie’s tall silhouette and Melvin’s half a head above me. But that didn’t seem to mind the new-built out of lego trophy and neither does it bother me for a change. I smile as we find ourselves an empty space to rest. Mel in the middle, the boss, and me and Frank on the sides. I see several interested glances, as people try to guess what connection we have. High school friends? Lovers? Childhood buddies?

People gossip out of built-in connections.

A strawberry blonde girl startes, her piercing eyes fixed on her dyed black nails slowly digging into the darker jean fabric. Black frames match the kohl behind them, as she lifts her eyes along with the pronounced name, Jill. My eyes catch hers for a second as I await her to read my mind. A talent and shiver as I see that shade. It makes you feel naked, as the pupils seem nearly lifeless, the blue catching as if I were a bubble.

Pop.

She's friendly and open.

Jill's hair is gelled back neatly, blonde with a bright pink stripe to protest against the known.

Next was a guy who called himself Derek, his hair hidden under a chullo, released by a pull coming along with a smile and smirk sparkling from behind his eyes.

Pull, a confetti of colours emerge as his enourmous lips form a smile.

His fingers keep tapping a rhythm as he passes the flag of introduction.

The next ones weren’t as pleasant as the first, not as friendly opened. But then you can’t judge by the first appearance and several occasions proved it to me. But despite everything it was hard for me to get rid of that impression. And I could never see them again. I could get expelled, like they would.

One was a dark haired tanned girl occasionally taking drags from her cigarette as her other hand fiddled with the cross around her neck. She leans her head forward exposing her neck more, where her real skin colour is hidden. She mutters Amy with a quick drag and adds her hometown quieter, as if it were a disgrace and a word filled with burnt stars and regret.

The next girl seems to open her mouth wide her tongue piercing nude, as she talks about her life changes in a high, emotionless voice, not looking at anybody in the circle, but tracing one un the back of her palm. Her dark red hair held by two scarlet ribbons. Her lips were a dark brown due to her sudden pick of lipstick or sudden glass kiss. Brenda is her name, the only pompous thing she exclaims.

The third one, her biography under her breath, causing Derek ask her to speak up which ends up in a straight back, facial exposure, her two piercings under her bloody red lips, quickly glance at everybody, as she repeates Agnes, with her red eyes. She isn't drunk. Eye contacts.

The next girl has shoulder length blonde hair, most likely bleached out. She openes her mouth and fixes her black specs at the same time, waiting a second before saying out her name, Amelia. I blink at the sudden mouthful of names beginning with A. Maybe it was a plain coincidence and I’d forget all the names, faces and people I met today. As sad as it sounds it will be a big grey memory later on, because I won’t be able to recall who said this and who did that.

I should've taken a camera.

I met and forgot you.

James, the guy says after an instant, a blink, as Amelia stops talking. She gasps at the sudden quick reaction. Pow. James just shrugs, poking his red Converse with black shoelaces. Black, red and write wristbands. Classy. Hair gelled, as the winds blows and kills it.

The circle of unknown finishes, me making a pause for me to say out my name. A seagull introduces himself walking into the circle and demanding a non-existant sub. He gets a cig from Agnes, lit on both sides.When I say my hometown aloud, Jill mentiones that her sister lived there. Brenda had some ex boyfriend there. It was no surprise my hometown isn't (would love to say wasn't, but it's still there), that far away and has quite a population, let’s say its own celebrities who run away and made their place in the world. Something, I’d love to do one day.

Only I wouldn't go back... to a once acclaimed home.

Then Melvin and Frankie follow, giving small fragments of their autobiography. I fell like asking them who their girlfriends are and why aren't they here. But I hold my tongue instead, listening to end of his presentation as Melvin leans back, falling onto the grass, closing his eyes, trying to relax. The blur building. The wind occasionally ruffles his hair, causing him annoyance as his eyebrows move closer hinting that.

But mine isn't here as well.

Then the heavy blur returnes.

Laughs. Giggles. Melvin ranting about our schedule which isn't even given but he still finds what to complain about as we wait in line for something. Maybe we aren't in the line anymore. Maybe it is all over. Maybe there is no Mel in front of me waving his arms showing his impatient built-in feature, waiting for something to happen, something expected, something so awaited, so loved.

Lola.

Was she expected?

Always.

Her hand against her lips. Eyes fixed.

Light eyes? Dark eyes?

I could feel something turn into stone in my chest.

She glances at me, her mouth tense, arm now pocketed, eyes glancing back and forth, lost, a notebook tightly against her chest. Nervous glance to the side and then back at me.

Straight.

It’s not her. It can’t be.

It’s not her.

I stare, watching Melvin and Frankie walk away. I look away now. I look back. She’s still there, but it’s not her. My eyes catch every detail of her appearance, as I compare her in my mind. I know what she looks like, what she feels like. I could feel myself trail kisses as memories fog mind, trying to break into reality or lure me back in.

Then I walk past, without a single glance at the girl who resembled Lola.

Never look back.

Maybe we never broke up. Maybe we are still going out, in my head. It still echoes. Maybe I dislike ruffling my hair and if I did I’d feel her fingers run threw my hair, up to my chin stopping there.

Walk away in silence.

Maybe I really did adore her. Maybe they weren’t just words I’d whisper in her ear causing light shivers upon both bodies. Scared. My voice never shook when I’d say them.

I’d think that I was lying.

Just like any guy, the method to get a girl. Fancy, fancy, fancy-dancy words to get her.

She never believed in them anyway.

She’d just smile Lie back. That’s what I thought.

Both tangled up in a web of lies, trying not to choke believing in the possibility of getting out of it unharmed. Lies, lying, lie. All of that would scream in my head, giving the shake in my voice the lack of sparkle in my eyes, the trembling fingertips brushing against the brow.

The broken kisses.

We
lied.

I
/
Him
/
Me
Loved.

Maybe they weren’t as broken as I thought they were.

Chapter 10

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