Chapter Two –
{Rolex . Ghram}
And now you're dead inside
Still you wonder why
When you're on the edge and falling off
It's all over for you
Of all the times he was told to go out and do something, why did it have to be now? Heavy drops fell from his eyelashes as he blinked, scattering the little light showing through the clouds into glints and smears. Then again, when did his parents ever care about him, let alone what he wanted. Never. They never did, and they probably never would. They only paid any attention to him when they wanted something, unless they had gotten word from his trainer about his accomplishments. Even then, a simple "that's my boy" was all he ever got as praise. Now they wanted him to run errands when he had been about to go train, and he had to go to a hundred different places. Not to mention it was raining.
Of course it was raining, it was just his kind of luck. It wasn't just lightly sprinkling either, or even a regular rain. That simply wouldn't fit the already frustrating situation he was in. No, it had to pour; like the whole of the ocean had been sucked up into the sky and released over this little area of District one. Screw the rain, and screw my parents. They could have waited. It was true, the tasks his parents had thrown at him were not things that really needed to be done, they were merely conveniences. Parents. His thoughts were bitter, but what else would you expect from a boy in his situation.
Thankfully, he had completed all of his tasks and had taken everything back home. He didn't get any thanks as he put away the items he had bought, instead he was snapped at by his mother because the stuff had gotten wet. How tempted he had been to yell at her, or hit her, or even run away. Perhaps I should run away, I might have a better life if I do, because the one I'm in right now sucks. It wasn't even like he had his sister around to confide in anymore, and his brother had died years ago. There was no one at home that he could turn to.
Now he was finally on his way to do something he wanted to do, and that was train. It was his way of blowing off steam, of letting out his emotions without having to explain everything. He had heard people say that rain washes away problems, dragging bad feelings away in the droplets as though cleaning away dirt. Well, it wasn't working for him. His shoulders were still stiff with anger, and a hard glint still resided in his eyes. No, Rolex Ghram was not feeling any better for being soaked.
He was jogging through the streets, whether to get to his destination faster or to feel like he had a purpose he didn't know. It certainly wasn't in order to stay as dry as possible, he was already soaked to the skin and dripping from everywhere. His hair lay flat on his head, and his green eyes were narrowed against the rain. The drops on his eyelashes continued to shatter the gloomy scene before him with the occasional scatter of sparkles. His feet splashed through innumerable puddles, making a squishing noise at every step. There was no doubt that he would need a change of clothes after he arrived at his destination. The question was how many towels it would take to dry him.
He was jogging past the bookstore, looking into the shop windows before turning his head to glance at the place across the street, when he collided with something. Or should he say, someone. Startled slightly by the impact, he turned his head sharply to look at who he had run into. On the ground before him, sitting one of the many puddles in the street, was a girl a little younger than he was. She looked to be only about a half-foot shorter than him, and was looking up at him with dark eyes. He paused for a moment to blink, trying to judge what action to take. He opened his mouth as though to say something, but couldn't think of anything. Should he try to apologize, or should he tell her off? The girl on the ground gave him no more time to decide, scowling at him as she mumbled, "Watch where you're going."
Slightly dumbstruck at the harsh tone she had used with him, he just stood there and watched as she shifted from sitting to kneeling. She began to crawl towards a spot just behind him, and he turned his head to see a small bag near her, laying on the soaking ground, getting drenched by the unending rain. A little further away was a book, as wet as the bag and seemingly new. She had managed to get the bag by the time he looked back, but seemed to be unable or unwilling to reach further for the book. Without looking up at him, she snapped, "Give me that," pointing to the book. It took him a moment to shake the bit of a stupor he had been in enough to realize that she had just asked him to do something.
Before he could reach for the book, he saw that she was trying to stand. Watching her in case she attacked him, thank you very much Career brain, he saw her slip and fall back into the puddle he had knocked her into. "Oh gosh," he heard her say, giggling. He noticed she was smiling, and turned away to grab the book before she could see that he had grinned at her antics. Bending to grab the now dripping book, he shook it out, buying time for him to straighten his features enough that she might not notice his amusement.
He ran a hand through his hair, making it momentarily stand up in large spikes. He let himself smile at her now, feeling the expression shift into a grin. He was such an idiot sometimes, for all he could be strategic. "Sorry about that, I wasn't looking where I was going." He held out the book to her, still looking like a fool, his mouth set into a lopsided grin. His green eyes met her dark ones and he felt his expression become even more crooked. He shifted the book into his other hand, extending his free hand to her as a means of getting up. "You alright?" He tried not to laugh as he though over the situation; both of them were in the middle of the street, soaked to the skin and getting even wetter as they remained in the torrential downpour, and here he was, hold out his hand and a book to a girl he had just knocked over.
Sometimes, I can't help but smile at my idiocy.
