DISCLAIMER: I do not (although I wish I did) own Xiaolin Showdown or any of its characters...that is all.
Entry One:
It was another gray and dismal day in the life of Jack Spicer. He sat in his dark hollow he called a lab, brooding over his consistent failures. His attempts at world domination were ill-fated at best. In fact he couldn't manage to maintain a healthy alliance with anyone for more than a few days before being double crossed. Wuya was gone...for good, and what could jack do about it? Not much. After all, she was now with Chase Young of all people. She wouldn't come back to him...He wouldn't come back to him. He remembered how envious he was of him, Omi that is, when Chase chose him to be his apprentice...and not him. He could have changed, with the proper training. Only, no one had bothered to give him another chance. What he would have given to be at Chase's right hand...
So how was he to deal with the bitterness of failure. He lifted a pen off of the nearby table. He twirled it within his grasp and thought for a few moments. He left his dank and dismal basement and stormed up to his room, not knowing that he was being watched. He flew into his room and pulled a small black journal from his bookshelf. He flipped it open to the first blank page and began scribbling down words, furiously, as though whatever he was writing about was causing him a great deal of turmoil.
He then stopped. His eyes examined the content of the page. He let out a sigh.
"But...that's not how I feel...I think I'm just angry...and jealous..." He whispered, tearing the page and crumpling it up into a ball upon the floor.
Jealous of who? He thought as he watched Jack from the shadows.
A melancholy smile then came across Jack's face as he began to jot something new down in his book. This time, he sat, being sure to word everything precisely and carefully. Instead of a long and incessant rambling, Jack had written something worthwhile. He closed the journal, stuffed it under his pillow and then left the room.
Chase emerged from the Shadows of Jack's dark abode. Truth be told, he wasn't sure why he was there in the first place. He merely found himself drawn to Jack, for whatever reason (he was sure that gravity was a factor in his initial attraction to the boy, but there was more to it than that). Chase made his way deeper into the room, once he was sure that Jack was gone for good. He reached for the journal and opened to the page that Jack had just written. As it turned out, there was a poem written on the inside:
If only I could be angry,
Angry that you won't see me,
Angry that you wont spare a glance,
Angry that you'd never give me
the time of day.
If only I could be angry,
Angry that I took a chance on you,
Angry that I believed you had a heart,
Angry that I lead myself on
to believe I had a chance.
If only I could be angry,
Angry that you never realized
how much you hurt me,
Angry that you never cared
Angry that you stole my heart.
If only I could be angry,
but sadly I can't be.
Not at you that is,
I could never be angry at you,
not now and maybe not ever.
If only I could be angry,
but I won't be.
And I will wait
in false anger,
for you to finally come around...
"It doesn't rhyme..." Chase grumbled disdainfully, as he closed the journal and stuffed it under Jack's pillow. Chase let out a sigh as he left Jack's abode and returned to his own. Only, Chase couldn't help but wonder who the poem was really about. He would have claimed to feel indifferently towards the situation, but inside, he really wished that Jack's feelings expressed in his poem...were about him.