Jayden never bites his nails. Ever. Unless, of course, there is a large helicopter stuck in this roof—propeller face down. Or, as in this case, a few moments before this awkward incident is to occur. And so there he was; He sat at his rather large desk biting his black polish-coated nails. His lights were all off, there were articles of clothing on the floor that one usually picks up before a guest would arrive, so as to keep embarrassment to a minimum, and his CD had just stopped playing its sulky tunes.
The silence was terribly loud. The only thing Jayden could hear was the "clip, clip" of his teeth on his nails and the "whirr" of his CD player awaiting its next assignment.
Alex walked in contemptuously, looked around in disgust, found Jayden and made a face.
"What're you doing?"
"Isn't it quite obvious?"
"No. It looks like you're sitting in your room biting your nails."
Jayden looked up, "No shit Sherlock," he said dully. "That's what I'm doing."
"Oh. Well, that's stupid."
"Look, twerp, either shut up and join me, or get the hell out of my room."
"Fine, butthead. Geez girls must be all over you: The nail-biting-dude-who-lives-in-a-pigsty," He teased as he walked to the door slowly, "Oh my gawd! He's so hawt! Look at his eerie white un-sun-soaked ski—"
"OUT!"
Alex snickered. "Right, well, mum says dinner's ready."
"Don't want it."
"Don't care," said Alex as he took his leave.
Jayden sighed, got up and looked in his mirror. His jet-black hair was haphazardly combed to the side. He didn't care what he looked like if no one but the people in his house (definitely not considered as his family) saw him. His hair contrasted with this white skin in ways only seen when someone writes on notebook paper with a black marker. Then again, there are those times when Access Hollywood shows clips of Michael Jackson being led to a courtroom.
"I'm ugly," mused Jayden to himself.
"No you're not."
"I'm a freak."
"No, you're just misunderstood."
Jayden looked around, found a fat man with a beard sitting with his legs crossed on Jayden's unmade bed, and sighed for the umpteenth time that day.
"Back again, are we, Xeran?"
"Yup," said the man.
He appeared, at first glance, to be a hobo. That is, until you began to think about it. Hobos, unless I am wrongly advised, are not often fat, and they don't tend to have slicked-back hair, or wear bowler hats. In fact, the only thing about the man that made him look like a hobo was his shabby, discolored clothing, and the large cardboard sign that read "Homles, see king jaub, dont drink (I swar), God bles!"in messy, large, tilted handwriting.
"You should go down to dinner," he added wisely.
"Don't want it."
"Well, besides the fact that you're quite skinny, and eating a good meal would be a good idea, there is impending danger for you if you stay up here much longer. Something involving a large propeller, I do believe."
Jayden rose his eyebrows, "Riiiiiight…"
"Really, Jayden, you need to learn to trust me more."
"Well, let's see. Why would I not trust you?" said Jayden, temper rising slowly. "Um, you show up in my room for the first time with a sign that says, 'I come in peace', in messy, large, tilted handwriting, say, 'You'll die in two days', and leave. I think I've gone mad andlive for two weeks in a state of paranoia, before you show up laughing your head off explaining that it was a joke, and that you're from a galaxy far, far away," he gestured a very long distance with his hands and continued, "Yeah, sure, I'll totally trust you this time!"
"Well, that was just one time!" cried Xeran, "Why do you always have to bring this up? You know, you can die in a helicopter crash for all I care, but I figured you wouldn't want to die just yet, so I came to tell you, and this is what I get? Have fun getting chopped to pieces my young formidable friend."
Jayden puzzled this over, but found no explanation for why he was a 'formidable friend'.
"Why formida—," he started to ask, but there was a loud pop and Xeran was gone.
Jayden stood for a while with his mouth open a tad, and then made his way downstairs. Better to be safe than sorry.