First of all, I own no rights to the song in this chap, which is called the Grand Optimist by City and Colour. Second, I don't own the cover image either. I OWN NOTHING! ('cept for the story of course. That's all me :D )
Second, I WILL continue the fics that have reviews on, including this one. I will probably update once a week starting from this chap. Will introduce others later in teh story and more fun shenanigans!
So hold on and go with the flows. Pleaze bear with me here! First chaps are always kinda boring! :P Enjoy!
-CalmMango
Bonnibel Brooks is just a normal 19 year old college girl. Wake up and grumble at alarm. Stumble into the bathroom in the early morning light and curse when the water's too cold. Hop downstairs to the kitchen and get some orange juice out the fridge. Spill the juice a bit on the counter while drinking and hear roommate noisily come down the stairs. Talk for a bit before an alarm tells her that she's late to class. Sprint to class like her life depends on it and make it to her seat only a couple minutes before it starts.
Regular girl. Bonnibel takes out her pencil from her backpack and notepad to take notes. Her parents bought her it when she first moved to the town; it's a recordable pencil to make it easier to take notes. However, she mostly misuses it by setting it to record and falling asleep in the back row. It isn't hard either: of course she's easily noticed with pink hair and pale blue eyes, but when she wants to, the girl could disappear into the crowd.
Biology passes in a flash and soon she's groggily reaching for her things and feeling her way through the crowd out the door. Mr. Johnson ruins it all however by calling out, "Bonnibel, please come to my desk. I want to speak with you."
Bonnibel puts the black sunglasses she was just about to put on outside, back in her book bag. She makes her way quickly down the stairs to meet him up by the front black board. She trips a bit on the last step and he reaches out to steady her like she's made of porcelain.
The girl huffs and yanks her arm back, stating angrily, "What is it?" He sighs and says, walking over to his desk and leaning on it, "You were sleeping again this morning Bonnibel." Bonnibel silently curses for being caught, but keeps a straight face.
….But she knows its coming. The pity. The sympathy. It makes her want to hit something and tell him to CAN it. To say he doesn't know what it's really like and that she sees, no, knows the type of looks he and everyone else gives when they think she can't notice, which seems to be every minute of every day. But she doesn't and lets it come like always. She's too nice for that.
"I know it's been hard on you here at Ooo University. The curriculum is different from your old school and college life has its adaptations. Many students cannot make the change smoothly and sputter around for their first year. You, however, made it more efficiently and faster than any student I've met before, despite your…" Here it comes.
"… Disadvantages. But I believe you've already worked through them in the first month! So, I want to move you to next year's class! We begin experimenting with biological processes, understanding them and coming up with many interesting projects! It has more of Chemistry in it with aspect, but I believe you will enjoy it very much. Now I know you will excel, but it rests mainly on your determination. Do you want to join?"
Bonnibel bites the inside of her cheek. Well, at least he didn't linger on it. She readjusts her shirt. "Okay." She says finally and could practically feel the happiness radiating off of him.
"Well, then! I'll get you in immediately! The new class time will be at 12 o'clock! Don't be late." Bonnibel smiles meekly and hurries out the room, making sure not to trip again.
Bonnibel Brooks knows her way around the campus so well, she knows exactly where she's going and never gets lost, stumbling around like most of the freshman. Ironic. Her feet carry her to her next class of Philosophy where she takes notes diligently in the back.
Then, through one of Mr. Carterson's many passionate speeches, her watch beeps. The class is over. Everyone stumbles to their feet, vibrating the floor. Bonnibel smiles to herself as she makes her way out the building once more, with no more classes for the rest of the day. Her phone vibrates in her back pocket and she pulls it out. Her hand shoots to pull her black shades over her eyes before anyone can see. It's Lady, her roommate and best friend. "Bonnibel, you coming to Jake's with us tonight?" The pink haired girl sighs and nods, realizing shortly after how she can't see through the phone. "…Yeah. What time again?"
"You know! Ugh, glob you're so forgetful. It's at 8:00. Don't be late." Bonnibel ends the conversation and hangs up. Her memory is actually amazing. Spectacular for anyone. Her hand goes to her watch absently. It's 3:00, so she has 5 hours to kill. Her feet move on their own in a familiar direction, and she doesn't hesitate. In all of her years, the one thing she's learned the most is to be sure of herself, no room for an ounce of doubt.
The sidewalk winds through the array of buildings, and through crowds of people. Bonnibel weaves with them with a determined face, smiling. Strangers are what she lives for, why she goes into many uncertain situations without previous knowledge. Despite the lingering fear in the back of her mind she will never be free of and uncertainty, she craves the rush and exhilaration of it all. It's because they don't know. They'll immediately apologize if they really know, like everyone else. They are oblivious, and thus, treat her the same as everyone else in the world. That's all she ever wants.
In the cool large structure, also known as the Ooo public library, she goes past the large standing columns and innumerable rows of books. Mrs. Tuttle, the librarian gives her a hug. "Hello Bonnibel. How's your day?" She says politely and Bonnibel shrugs, sliding the backpack onto one shoulder. "Fine and thank Mrs. Tuttle. I'm just going to read for a bit before leaving to a friend's event in his coffee shop."
The older woman nudges her away and goes back to her desk. The girl proceeds to go through the maze of shelves, infrequently passing a stray reader. She reaches an old wooden door in the back of the mystery section and clicks it open with her bronze key. It reveals a dark room leading up a narrow staircase. Cobwebs splay down of the wall and corners, but it doesn't even faze the girl.
The stairs wind upwards for seemingly forever until it ends at metal door, which she opens to warm sunlight. It's the hidden place she has all to herself. It appears to be unused or inaccessible, but Bonnibel is the only one other than the librarian herself. She walks across the cement flooring to the hip height ledge and sits on the single bench on the place. Her fingers absently etch over the worn inscription: "This is just a bench. Through sun and storms, sit upon I. Find the true meaning." It's a simple haiku, but always seems to hold more of a meaning to the girl. Ever since June it's bugged her, but she hasn't been able to figure out why. Shrugging it off, she inhales the crisp breeze and pulls out her book.
Her fingertips run across each line, as from childhood. She is in her own moment, time passing around the rooftop without her consent. In between lunch and bathroom breaks, she passes the day. In what feels like such little time, her phone buzzes, voicing out the time and event. "Brrzt-Go to Jake's shop-brzzt"
She packs her belongings and leaves her bench, for when she comes back once more. Mrs. Tuttle offers a goodbye as she walks out the library. Jake has a coffee shop on Lawrence Avenue. Bonnibel relies on her memory and instincts to find her way through the many streets and eventually ends up in front of the establishment. With a quick inhale, she opens the brown door and wanders in.
To say the place is packed is an understatement. The usual tables, sofas and recliners are all seem to be taken. Bonnibel bumps into someone with every step, but doesn't ever wonder if they'll notice. 'Confidence, Bonnibel... 'A voice comes from the crowd to right and she swivels in that direction. A hand yanks her to the main counter.
"Bonnibel, you made it! Yes!" Lady beams. A large heavy hand claps her on the back and Bonnibel stumbles forward a few steps. "Heyo, Princess! Glad you made it." Jake is hairy and strong, with coarse hair on his forearms, legs, and face, and thick muscles, put simply. Not the first person you'd expect to work in a drink shop, but he's one of life many odd findings. His deep comical voice jokes with Lady as Finn runs up and gives her a hug.
"Hey, Princess!" Finn is the younger brother of Jake, at 16, but is also the 'hero' of the group. He's a volunteer firefighter at the station, on a complex internship. His cheery attitude, and goofy personality make him easy to get along with and well-liked. His girlfriend, Fuscia, is normally with him on outings like this.
"Is Fuscia here?" Bonnibel asks absently, hopping up to sit on the counter with Lady. The blonde haired boy sits in one of the stools near and pulls it over. "She's in the bathroom." The fiery red-head does have a temper, but overall is very passionate and fun to be around. She's a month or so younger than Finn, and two have been inseparable since she transferred to the Ooo high school, from Brazil.
The constant murmurs are silenced by the mic and Jake speaking into it. "Okay… Welcome to the Koffi Kingdom's new talent night!" The shop erupts into cheers and he laughs along with it. "Yeah... remember guys: cold koffi specialties are now on half price and so are T.T's place pies from next door! "
Bonnibel feels a cold cup handed to her from behind. "I got one for you ahead of the rush; It's you're favorite. It's cotton candy." She smiles and silently nudges Lady in the side for thanks and sips it. After the claps and whistles die down after the second announcement, Jake finishes, "Tonight we will be having one of my new friends, and a frequent Koffi customer, Marceline Abadeer."
The crowd claps politely as the girl walks on stage. She grabs the mic and speaks, with tones of a British accent. "Uh... hello? Just moved here and New to Ooo. Um… I write a couple songs and here's a few. This first one is called, 'The Grand Optimist."
A rustic guitar plays into mic and echoes through the room. It's an interesting instrumental, almost desolate, and Bonnibel can't help but be drawn into its underlying story. Then suddenly out of nowhere comes husky, yet feminine voice. It's deep and full of emotion, words unsaid, and so many things she can't understand. It's… mysteriously attracting and just at its sound, she feels her pulse quicken.
I fear I'm dying of complications,
Complications due to things I've left undone
That all my debts will be left unpaid
Feel like a cripple without a cane
I'm like a jack of all trades
Who's a master of none…
Then there's my father
He's always looking on the bright side
Saying things like
"Girl, life just ain't that hard"
He is the grand optimist,
I am the world's poor pessimist!
You give him burdensome times,
And he will escape unscarred…
I guess I take after my mother!
I guess I take after my mother!
I used to be quite resilient,
Gain no strength from counting the beads on a rosary!
And now the wound has begun to turn,
Another lesson that has gone unlearned,
But this is not a cry for pity or for sympathy!
I guess I take after my mother…
I guess I take after my mother…
I guess I take after my mother…
I guess I take after my mother.
She ends on one unfinished note, as if the rest of the lines were lost or forgotten, nothing to promise for more to come. Bonnibel sits on the edge of her seat, heart beating her ears. The place is loud with cheers and a musical laugh plays into the speakers. She feels eyes on her, that sickly familiar feeling.
She finishes with a long strum and cheers occur once more, louder and vibrating off the walls. Lady pushes her playfully and Bonnibel laughs along with her friends. In the back of her mind though... she still feels someone looking right at her…
Bonnibel walks out the shop about twenty minutes later, into the moonlight. Lady told her she was gonna stay behind and help clean up with Jake, and Finn and Fuscia left right after Marceline's last song. Marceline… The name bounces around in her head as her feet meet the pavement. Her voice… She can't describe it well enough; no matter how much she tries.
Bonnibel pauses a few feet from the shop, for a moment, and then continues her way to the bus stop. "It should be about 9pm now…" she mumbles to herself. Interrupting her thoughts, a body collides into hers, sending her sprawling onto the sidewalk. Her head swims as a voice says," Hell, sorry. I don't watch where I'm going. I saw you inside right?" A hand slips into hers, lightly tough from playing instruments, fingers lean and strong. "I'm Marceline Abadeer."
Bonnibel lets herself be helped to her feet, before feeling silence consume the normally busy street. She feels the exact feeling then, as she did in the coffee shop, a pair of eyes looking at her intensely. She asks finally, trying to sound calm, "I think my shades fell. Can you get them for me?" A short laugh. "Sunglasses at night? I don't know pinky."
Bonnibel frowns. "Pinky?" Another laugh. It's beautiful and rugged; a sound the pink haired girl wants to hear more. Why does she? "Pink hair, pink shoes and pink hoodie? Fitting I presume." A pause between laughs and Bonnibel says quietly, "I'm Bonnibel Brooks."
Silence. "Oh. Well then Bonnibel, here's your shades." Bonnibel feels the metal frame placed into her empty palms and sighs, pulling them to her face for comfort. Marceline clears her throat and adds, "Hey, you uh… need a ride home? If you are anyway, I mean."
Alarms blare in her head from experience. This is bad. Number one rule, taught to Bonnibel ever since she became this way: NEVER, under any circumstance, go with anyone you do not know. Her mind frantically plays out scenarios, with horrid endings of death and other things of sorts. Too vulnerable, to weak. She can't defend herself. So, Bonnibel inhales to calm her nerves and takes a step back, away from the girl and the situation entirely.
"H-hey, it's cool. You don't have to go if you don't want to or anything." Bonnibel feels the tension in the air grow so thick, she could almost grab it. Suddenly her mouth blurts without consent, whatsoever, "Okay." Her heart pounds like she's run a couple miles. Why, oh to grod, why did she just say that?, she thinks to herself. Marceline's footsteps fade off to the left and the door to a car opens. "Cool."
With shaky footsteps, she tries her best to seem confident when walking over and shoves down the overwhelming feeling to put her hands in front of her and feel her way around. Bonnibel slips off the curb and Marceline takes a hold on her, helping her into the car. "Woah! You cool, Bonnibel? Drink a bit too much smoothie?", she jokes and slips into the driver seat.
Bonnibel flushes red and laughs along awkwardly. "Haha. No, just a bit clumsy tonight, I suppose." Her fingertips run over the refined leather of the seat. It smells faintly of strawberries. Marceline clicks the car into gear and says absently, "Ya, it's not my car though. Borrowed it from a friend to get here. Nice though, huh?"
Bonnibel nods and pretends to look out the window. The vehicle rumbles into motion smoothly. She calls out directions to the parking lot near her dorm. In silence, Marceline drives. The tension never leaves.
Eventually, the sound of brakes clicking signal a permanent stop. Bonnibel unbuckles her seat belt, asking blankly, "Which side are we in? I wasn't paying attention." It's a good lie. Marceline mumbles back, "Uh… left side. You go to the U?" She nods and distances herself as much as she can from Marceline, hopping out the car.
"Yeah. Bye." A short curt reply is followed by the closing of a car door. Bonnibel walks briskly to the sidewalk, and runs her hand over a heart carving in a nearby tree trunk. Now she knows where exactly she is. The car doesn't sound just yet, but she chooses to ignore the fact that she hasn't left. Room 106, 107, 108… 109… AHA. Her room: 110. She reaches for the form of a key in her right pocket. Nothing.
Bonnibel breathes again t calm her nervousness and feels through the rest of her belongings. This happens. She just… needs to stay calm. Almost ten minutes pass and she finds nothing. Her body slumps to the wall by the door and she groans aloud. "Crap…. Lost it." She says under her breath in frustration directed towards herself. "I should've paid more attention…"
The sound of boots clicking against the pavement stops her self-scolding. Closer, closer. Then, "Hey Bonnibel? I think this key is yours." Bonnibel sighs with a small smile of relief. "Thank you. Yes, it's mine." She can almost see the other girl shrug. "Nah, it's fine. Here."
Bonnibel stiffens and waits for a moment. Her hand reaches out with dread, because she knows what going to happen, and how she's going to look. She moves it around blindly for a moment before it clasps around a cool key. Marceline sighs as Bonnibel turns to go inside her home, face hot from embarrassment. 'Please don't notice, Please don't notice..!" She thinks repeatedly. The door clinks open, a voice accompanying it.
"Your eyes are really beautiful Bonnibel. I wish you wouldn't try to hide them all the time." The girl freezes, doorknob in her hand. Her voice is distant, cold. "I don't hide them." The words cut through the tense air and Marceline steps closer. "You do hide them. You just don't want people to see who you really are; I can tell by the way you act. I'm just saying you should loosen up a little and-"
Bonnibel feels a swell of emotions flurry through her at the close mentioning of the topic. Her condition. It comes out bitterly in her words as she jerks back around with gritted teeth. "You don't get it! NO one does! Get this through your thick freaking' skull, just like everybody else:," She emphasizes every word with a harder tone, if even possible. "You. Don't. Know. ME. So don't even try and just leave me alone."
It's times like this Bonnibel is glad she can't see the other'sexpression. The bite in her tone, she realizes immediately after, was wrong. Inwardly she wants to apologize; It's not Marceline's fault. She didn't do anything.
"You're right. I don't, so I guess I'm sorry for getting in your personal business then." Marceline's voice is calm and hinting at something Bonnibel's never heard before. An emotion she can't put together and identify. It's unknown, thus being that the other girl could be feeling anything and could do anything at the moment. But Bonnibel doesn't know. It's unknown. And the unknown is her worst fear.
A boot slides against the concrete to leave mere moments later, but pauses mid-step. "You know what? I think you're scared Bonnibel. To scared to trust anyone or admit anything." She feels the frustrated words spill out of her mouth in reply. "Shut up." … But, for the first time, the other person doesn't. And what comes out she would've never predicted.
"No. You try to hide it with copying the automated quirks everyone does. To seem normal. You're blind. You can't see anything." Bonnibel bites the inside of her cheek, eyes getting as hot as her face. 'Why am I still here?' her mind finally wonders. "How'd you know?" She asks quietly, voice barely above a whisper.
Marceline leans against the wall next to her, shoulders touching. "Don't worry: your acting is fine. It's when I saw your eyes." Bonnibel curses harder in her head. Her eyes are a pale blue, almost white. The tell-tale sign. She hates them. Marceline turns to face her. "Like I said: they're really pretty. Reminded me of the sky on a cloudy day, y'know? With gray and blue. Got lost in them for a while."
A smile threatens to crack on Bonnibel's face at the compliment, but she holds it back. Marceline adds finally, nudging her in the side, "Don't look so depressed. I don't think that you're insecure or anything…I just… -"Bonnibel interrupts.
"I don't think anyone gets it, no matter how much they think they do. Even you. I see nothing. Complete darkness. How'd you like it if you couldn't be certain of anything or anyone?" Marceline sucks her teeth audibly in thinking. "Well… I dunno. I'd be scared as hell. I bet you are too, under all of your confidence and all. But it doesn't matter what I think. Just…"
A hand pulls off her shades… and even more surprisingly… she lets them. "Did you know that Bonnibel means, 'good and beautiful girl'? Well it does. … And even if you can't see it Bonnibel, you need to know you are. Just let everyone else see that, and stop being so closed off. Okay?"
Bonnibel bites her lip as a blush finds its way to her face. Words escape her, so she nods, looking down at the floor. "Cool." The shades are put in her hands and not back on her face purposefully. "Good Night." Marceline's footsteps echo in the distance. Bonnibel's fingers clench around the frames and she struggles to say something before she leaves. But why does she want her to stay?
"Wait, M-Marceline!" The clicking sounds stop. "Yeah?" Bonnibel leans on the wall, facing the direction of the voice. "You don't know me. I think you forgot that." It's a statement, with many meanings. But it prompts the other girl to smile and walk back over. "First of all, I didn't because I know I don't. But you're interesting Bonnibel Brooks." A slim hand reaches into her jacket, taking her phone. "What are you doing?" Her voice squeaks near the end. In moments later, it's returned to its owner.
"…. I don't know you, but I'm sure as hell gonna try to. It's my number." Her voice drops to a whisper. "Call me." She turns on her heels and stalks away. Bonnibel stands there under the lamplight with the device dumbfounded. The car rumbles off and away, but she still doesn't move a muscle.
Her fingers undo the screen lock along with the paralysis and a chime sounds. An electronic voice says out loud into the night, "New Contact and New Number added under 'friends'. Marceline Abadeer. Call or Text?"
A smile breaks across her cheeks and she turns it off. Bonnibel walks back inside. Closing the door behind her, she can't help but giggle and sink to her knees. Her heart thumps in a way she's never felt before. A flicker of a memory of all of her many ruined relationships with family and friends alike appears as much more for a reminder. She opens her phone and calls the singer, hoping she's home. One ring. Two rings. Three rings. Four- "Yeah… Bonnibel? Bonnibel Brooks?" HER VOICE.
The voice sends her whole body to flutter with nervousness and joy. "Yeah. I just want to say something. Are you home?" "I'm getting ready for bed. What is it?"
Bonnibel Brooks is just a normal 19 year old college girl. When her mind refers back to when Marceline said, "…. I don't know you, but I'm sure as hell gonna try to", she closes her eyes and smiles wider.
"I don't know you either, but I'm sure as hell gonna try too."