Chapter 2: Epiphany
A/N: This prequel or whatever ain't gonna be very long. Probably like 10-15 chapters. Sequel will be about the same length.
Quote sat still in his room deep in thought for a while. He needed time to vent his frustration.
Eventually, he decided to go to the main area, and realized that people were eating dinner.
Had he really spent that long sitting in his room?
He shook his head and got some food. He was surprised to see a luxurious buffet waiting for him instead of instant or canned foods.
Like, it was a project. You wouldn't expect to see a buffet fit for a king at a simple project, would you?
But then again, it was an international research project with a budget of over a trillion dollars.
He got some food and sat down.
Someone sat down at the opposite end of where he was sitting, and he suppressed a sigh.
The same girl from earlier.
"Hello again," Curly greeted timidly, and got no response. She scratched her head. "Again, if I'm bothering you, I can go somewhere else," She stated.
He sighed again, waved dismissingly, and smirked.
That was enough of an answer for her. She smiled.
"Bet you weren't expecting that, eh?" She asked, motioning over to the buffet.
He nodded.
"It's definitely unlike anything I've ever seen," He muttered.
"Yeah, me too. I'm Curly, by the way. Curly Brace," She said.
"Isn't that a punctuation mark?" He asked.
"Yeah, I don't know why my parents named me that," She muttered, "What's your name?"
"Name's Quote," He stated. She smiled.
"I like that name. Also, sorry about what I said earlier, I wasn't trying to offend you," She said timidly.
"It's fine," He muttered, "I understand what you were trying to do. But, I do want to say something."
"What's that?" She asked.
He looked up, revealing his dark blue eyes to her for the first time. His face was twisted into a slight frown, and he stared right at her.
"If you honestly think I'm truly friendly, or a good person, or anything like that, you're terribly mistaken," He grumbled, then looked down and smirked menacingly. "I'm as bad as it can get," He stated.
She shook her head.
"I wouldn't say that," Curly disagreed.
"You wouldn't?" He asked, and she nodded.
He smirked again.
"Then you don't know what you're talking about," He muttered
She frowned.
"But you've been nice to me," She countered, "You're literally the only person I've met who actually converses with me and doesn't brush me off."
He stopped.
Someone as lively and energetic as her? With no friends?
No, that surely couldn't be right.
"That's... kind of sad," He stated.
"I... guess so," She said.
Wait a minute...
Of all the people she talked to, she talked to him last.
"I suppose that's why you came to me, then. I was your last choice, your only option left. I should've known that you only talked to me because there was literally no one else you could've talked to," He hissed.
She became visibly alarmed.
"Nononono! That's... no! I didn't..." She stammered.
"You didn't what? You didn't think I'd notice or care? If you think I'm going to be fooled into being your sorry excuse of a friend, you're VERY mistaken! I'm not going to be manipulated!" He barked, barely able to keep himself from yelling.
Tears began to stream down her face.
"I never wanted to manipulate you. I didn't see you at first, because you were at the back sitting in the dark. Look, I-I just wanted a friend, and I thought you needed a friend. I just saw you... alone, like me, and thought you'd be happy to have someone be there for you, or be your friend. Is that really too much to ask? To try to support someone when no one else will?" She asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She was on the brink of breaking down and crying.
His anger vanished instantly.
"I-I... wait, no, I-" He stammered.
"I guess I really have been irritating you by being here. Well, if it bothers you so much, then you won't hear from me ever again," She stated somberly, then got up and walked away.
He was about to run after her, try to do something to fix what he did, but stopped.
He had already done enough.
He looked down at his food. The luxury food that probably would've taken a year's wages to afford.
It didn't appetize him anymore.
In a fit of frustration, he snarled and pushed it off the table.
He put his hands to his forehead and slumped down.
Curly walked to her room slowly, entered, and sat on her bed.
"If you think I'm going to be fooled into being your sorry excuse of a friend, you're very mistaken!"
She began sobbing into her hands.
He must've never liked her in the first place.
He must've only been talking to her because he found it entertaining or something mean like that.
The thought made her sob even more.
She thought she'd finally had a friend. Someone who she could trust her back to.
Yet all along it'd been a facade.
Quote didn't feel a reason to stay where he was.
He stomped back to his room and sat down on his bed, clutching his head.
He snarled angrily.
Something was gnawing at him, and he just couldn't figure out what it was.
Could it be Curly?
What he said to her, and how she reacted to it?
He'd probably devastated her.
She was probably sobbing in her room at that very moment.
He fell to his knees, clutching his head even more. His hat fell off.
What was WRONG with him?!
Why'd he have to go and do that?!
He got up and began to bang his head against a wall.
He stopped and looked at his hat on the ground. He picked it up and read the proverb on the front.
"Hey, those words on your cap, that's Latin, right?"
He threw the cap aside and laid down in bed, ignoring the migraine beginning to blossom in his head.
Before, he'd have told himself not to worry about it.
That being alone and whatever was a symbol of strength, and making friends being a sign of weakness. That having to rely on others for support meant that one was too weak to even support themselves.
But now, he realized just how much of an asshole he truly was.
Humans were social creatures. Even if he didn't want to admit it, he needed others for support. He needed friends. He needed attachments.
And he could not rely solely on himself for support.
A gun could not fire itself without a wielder to aim and fire it.
A bowling ball could not knock down pins itself without an arm to throw it.
He desperately hoped he could see her again one more time to apologize and make things right.
Even if she never wanted to see him again.
He had to reap what he had sewn.