Meeting you was fate.
I. The First Meeting
Pairing: Lyra x Denzel
(Italic and Underlined means that hose line are spoken by the 'creepy voices')
Denzel…
Shut uuuup.. I'm needing some sleep here!
Denzel…Denzel…!
GEEZ! What is wrong with you people..? Eh? People? In… my room?
Denzel! Denzel!
Wh-what? Who's calling me?
Denzel…
What do you want?
DENZEL!
What! Why're there so many voices screaming here?
WE WANT YOU! NOBODY NOBODY BUT YOU!
What the f— Who the heck are you people? And how… can you possibly get past security?
Fufufu…
What the heck?
Your security guards, dogs, and other means of defense in this house… those obstacles are no match against us, the fangirls of Denzel Soliaban United (DSU, for short), your FANCLUB!
OH MY GOD!
Yes! And now… we shall take over your room.. and ravish you, our prince! GET HIM GIRLS~!
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
"Denzel!" said an aggravated voice. "Will you stop screaming and wake up? You're going to be late!"
"Wh-what? Mom? Is that you?" said a voice muffled by a tangled mass of blankets and bed sheets on the floor near the bed.
"Huh? Of course I'm your mom. Who else is here to wake you up everyday? You broke every single alarm clock we have tried to put here in your room and fired any of the staff who made an effort to wake you up." Said Denzel's mom with an exasperated voice. "You're weird this morning. Have you mistaken me for someone else? Oh, I know. Your brain has finally turned into mush. Yeah, that's the only probable reason—"
"Mom, my brain is FINE." Denzel cut his mother's absurd sentence short. He doesn't want his mother to get any ideas like putting him in a secure mental facility somewhere deep in an Amazon forest or something. "What time is it, anyway?"
"Huh? Oh, it's…" his mom looked at her watch. "6 am."
Denzel groaned. "Aww, mom! You should've woken me up earlier!"
"I did!" protested his mom. "But you just kept shrieking and thrashing about in your bed!"
"Eh, whatever. I'm gonna take a bath now."
"Lyra! Take care on your way to school!" said a voice.
"I will, mom!" replied Lyra.
"Ah! Wait! You forgot your lunch bag! Lyraaaa!" shouted Lyra's mother.
"Oh, right! I knew something didn't feel right… Thanks, mom!" laughed Lyra.
"Bye!" said her mother, smiling.
Oh, I'm such a klutz. Good thing mom remembered my lunch bag! Thought Lyra, smiling.
-After 10 minutes of commuting…-
"Lyra, good morning!" yelled a cheerful yet groggy voice.
"Hi Maan!" waved Lyra. "Hi Nathalie!"
"Hiii! Good morning!" smiled Nathalie.
"What am I, chopped liver?" pouted a voice.
"Haha, hi Lea!" laughed Lyra.
"What, no 'good morning'?" said Lea, raising an eyebrow but grinning.
"Good morn— hey! You yourself haven't even greeted me yet."
"Eh, really? Good morning! Now where's my 'good morning', hmm?"
"Good morning Lea!" grinned Lyra.
"Yeah, that's more I like it!" beamed Lea.
The group laughed, but not for long.
All laughter and noise stopped abruptly because THE Denzel Soliaban (and the DSU of course, since they followed Denzel everywhere especially when he's in the campus, but Denzel have kept some distance away from them because of his dream earlier), the school heartthrob (along with 2 others), has arrived.
A few of the girls near the door swooned, and Lyra rolled her eyes.
"Geez, what's with them, getting all mushily creepy whenever he comes in? He's just a student here, like us." Scoffed Lyra.
Lea raised an eyebrow. "Err.. Lyra? He's one of the school heartthrobs. Even the higher years go lovey-dovey over him."
"Well, I don't get what they see in him. What's so nice about him, anyway? So arrogant…"
"Yeah.." said Nathalie, twirling a strand of loose hair. "I don't see anything special about him, either."
"Of course you won't." Said Maan, getting up from her nap. "All you see is Mr. Gloriously and Epically Handsome Student Council Guy, aka Don Vengua…"
"Shut up, Maan." Said Nathalie, face reddening. "We all know you can't get enough of *panira-ng-imagination's name to be placed here*."
"W-WHAT?" said Maan, her own face turning pink and her expression being the weird Maan-is-shocked face. She turned to face the other two girls, mere spectators to their conversation until now. "You told her!" She pointed a finger accusingly at them.
"We didn't!" insisted Lyra and Lea.
"Yeah, they didn't." grinned Nathalie with a twinkle in her eye. "I just guessed the name. You did the rest. I love giving things a little push and watch whatever happens next unfold."
Maan groaned. "DONat..!"
"Don't call me DONat!" shrieked Nathalie.
"She's right, Maan." Said a standoffish voice behind Nathalie. "Only I can call her that. Isn't that right, DONat dear?"
"What the heck—! DON! What are you doing here! You're trespassing into Helium-III territory! And I'm not a deer!"
"How cute, taking it literally. You're right, you're not a deer.. You're more like a graceful gazelle in the midst of a rich and lush meadow…"
"Gaahhh! Don, stop it, my eardrums are bleeding..!"
"Is that so?" said Don, faking a shocked expression, and then suddenly grinning. "Then we must take you to the infirmary! No, to the hospital! To the emergency room! This is a dire tragedy! Your ears are in critical condition—!"
"OMYGAD Don, stop it. You're giving me a headache." Said Nathalie, her eye twitching.
"Oh, your head is also hurting now? Then we really must go the hospital emergency room right now—"
"AGGHHH!" screamed Nathalie, messing up her hair.
"You're even making incoherent noises! To the emergency room, it is!" nodded Don, and carried Nathalie away, bridalstyle (obviously ignoring Nathalie's shrieks and restless movements to get out of his arms) while the other 3 girls, audience to this madness until now, watched them go out of the room in amusement.
"So." Said Lyra, after some minutes of amused silence. "Let's have lunch together later, hmm?"
"So!" said the teacher, putting the chalk he was holding back on the chalkboard ledge. "That's all for today's lesson…"
"YEAHHH!" yelled the students in unison.
"..but for your assignment –" continued the teacher.
"AAAWWWW!" groaned the students. 'Sir! Weekend..!' was heard in the background, actually audible under the din.
"Denzel!" whispered Matt, who was a few seats away at the back. He threw a crumpled piece of paper to the direction of Denzel's head. It hit him on the nose.
"Ow!" said Denzel, rubbing his nose.
"Shush! Not so loud, sir will hear you." Matt whisper-shouted.
"Fine. OW." Whispered Denzel. "Why did you throw that crumple paper at me? And at my nose, too!"
"What? Did you want me to hit you somewhere else... like on your ear or cheek or something? Anyways, that's beside the point. Do whatever it is you're doing best and with almost no effort at all to convince sir to abstain from giving us that homework!" Matt whispered back to Denzel in such a tone that seems to be suggesting that this was the obvious thing for Denzel to do.
"What." Deadpanned Denzel. "How am I supposed to do that?"
"Oh, the usual," whispered Matt casually. "Talking to him, smiling, winking, pole dancing, wiggling your eyebrows –"
"Excuse me," cut Denzel. "But I most certainly do NOT pole dance nor wiggle my gloriously symmetrical eyebrows."
"– blow him a kiss, give him your number –"
"I will NEVER give my number to that psychopath."
"Oh, really?" grinned Matt. "Then you're okay about blowing him a kiss, huh. Interesting…"
"Ugh!" groaned Denzel, but taking care not to demean the quality of his wonderfully heavenly voice nor his precious vocal cords with the ugly sound accompanying such an action like groaning. "Of course not. Who will even stoop that low to do such a thing?"
"I can think of one," whispered Matt.
"Yeah, me too." Nodded Denzel. "Doesn't his name start with an R.."
"Huh. Doesn't it start with a B?"
"Huuhhh." Murmured Denzel. "I think Mr. B does that to the other teacher, Sir D…"
"Oh, yeah. Mr. R applies his 's' techniques to all teachers, right?"
"No, he applies it from everyone to anything, meaning he does it to every single thing there is here above the face of the earth."
"Ohh.." said Matt, nodding his head as he absorbed this new piece of information.
"Yeah, so –"
"Mr. Soliaban, what is it that you're privately discussing with Mr. Magboo there at the back?" cut the teacher to Denzel's statement.
"SIR!" said Denzel in mock surprise, as if it was his greatest honor to be called by the teacher – via surname. He then shifted his expression into his signature smile, the one which all of the girls (esp. the ones in his fan club) dream about and hope to be smiled upon by the said smile forever; his smile which was most heavily coveted so much that people pay for paparazzis to take a hundred pictures of it – only for them to fall in love with that smile, as well. Yes, his smile has that effect on people, because of its unique, dazzling and god-like attributes: it was as bright as the radiant and summer sun, as refreshing as the cool spring water from the Alps, so amazingly charming that almost all people can't take their eyes off him (resulting to random events such as the crashing of taxis because of distracted taxi drivers with always the last thing they saw being his signature smile), and (cry now Stephenie Meyer) it makes the glittery sparkles of Edward Cullen's skin seem just like a mere dull luminosity. Some girls even claim to have reached heaven only after seeing him smile at them (or seem to smile at them, pshh they're such feelers) and then to come back to earth with their new purpose in life being a new addition to the humble and noble cause of stalking Denzel, only to come back to heaven after another direct hit of his, I quote, 'incredibly irresistible and exquisite smile that I most positively wish with all my heart to be mine', and vice versa, meaning another trip to heaven and back to earth again, another cycle of those same events, history repeats, yada yada yada (yes, with no change in the probability of having a change in the 2 events A and B, unless acted upon by an external force [yeah, Adv. Stat + Physics; ay wait, di ako sure. Basta yan]). Anyways, that is their story; but since this story which you are currently reading is about the fairy-tale-like legend of Denzel and (oh yeah!) Lyra's newly blossoming love, we will ignore those girls' freaking-unchanging-and-freaking-repetitive-cycle-of-a-story (which will eventually change because of the external force= Lyra).
*cough. Back to the last line. cough*
The teacher looked momentarily dazed and Matt had to resist laughing out loud.
"Sir," repeated Denzel, with still his gorgeous smile (which will most likely win the most-god-like-and-charming-and-should-have-only-existed-in-the-wonderful-land-of-imagination-only-that-it-didn't-because-we-are-now-seeing-it-before-our-eyes-smile-award with no difficulty at all) present in his (need I say it?) flawless face (okay, maybe there is a blemish somewhere, but since it's not visible, who cares?). "I was just voicing my opinion on the matter of the not-yet-completely-finished-in-announcing homework to Matt here. I think that, since tomorrow is the start of the weekend, we should not be given any workload to take home as our weekends are usually reserved for our rest from any academic stress. Forgive me for my impudence on saying such a horrid thing as my opinion and I do hope that it will not be of any inconvenience to you."
The teacher looked astonished at Denzel's statement. "O-of course not! Did I say something about assignments? I'm very sorry, must've slip out, didn't really know what I have been saying these past few hours… didn't have.. argh. It's all because of my recent lack of protein bars. Never mind, never mind. Good bye and thank you class."
"Good bye and thank you, Sir!" replied the class happily as they stared at the teacher's figure already going out of their line of sight.
"Yes, Denzel!" said Matt, clapping Denzel's back.
Denzel chuckled. "Well. That was easy."
"It's lunch time," commented Matt. "Shall we head to the COOP?"
"Sure, let's go –"
"Lyra, hurry up!" said a voice outside the room not far from the 2 boys.
"All right, all right! I'm coming, just a sec – OOF!" said a voice, and Denzel felt something, or rather, someone run into him from behind on his back.
"Sorry," said the same voice, but a bit muffled as the disgruntled person, a girl with short straight hair, straightened herself from the earlier collision.
Denzel felt the words he was then about to say stuck in his throat as he gazed upon the brightest chocolate brown eyes he had ever seen staring back at him.