I'm so sorry, y'all deserved an update much sooner. I hope you enjoy!
I don't own Pokémon.
Chapter 4 - Screaming Yellow
silence is my jam but i like rock too
Hey there and before you say anything about how annoying I am, I'd like to propose a truce. And I know you said you won't be replying anymore, but I just need some advice. Judging by our correspondence so far I'd say that you're fairly constipated when it comes to the social skills department (and I'm in no way saying this to insult you, merely making an observation), but I don't have anyone else to talk to. Sad, right? I know. Oh, well, gotta do what I can even if it means relying on you for advice.
So, here's my dilemma. Imagine you're being forced into a situation involving another person, about whom you know next to nothing, and you have to discuss some deep shit with them and even get some inspiration out of the whole exchange. The person you have to work with – someone you think is unlikely you'll ever come to communicate normally with and who is totally different from you, even though a third person implies that you are connected on some deeper (and, in my personal opinion, imaginary) level, so you have to make an effort to find those supposed similarities, BUT the other person seems like the hardest person on earth to even begin to understand and talk to (key word being seems – like I said, you are basically strangers, but that's the aura the person gives off, so you can pretty much tell), plus you've only had a couple of past encounters with them and they haven't exactly been of the most mundane nature, so things are awkward and on top of that you've already come across as the weirdest person on the planet and even though you don't care about the impression you've made on them, you have to cooperate with them for a fair amount of time and feel that your past experiences with them might complicate the already unlikely to be successful communication.
Okay, did you imagine it? A pretty sucky situation, no? So, anyways, my question is: what does the first person do? To, like… Err, I don't know… handle the situation? If you have any relevant advice to offer AT ALL, I'll be glad to take it, because I honestly have got nothing and I've been racking my brains for ideas, but without luck.
By the way, how's your brother holding up?
escaping my thoughts
Thanks for your observations, I didn't remember asking for them, but I sure am glad you decided to share them with me (note the sarcasm). I knew you didn't have any friends, but I have to say I didn't expect you to turn to, quoting, a "jerkface", "socially retarded", "rude little prick" and "jackass" such as myself for advice. But I'm truly flattered to be bothered by your nonsense once again. It honestly warms my heart.
The cringeworthy construction of your sentences made it fairly hard to understand what you're babbling about, but I managed to understand one thing, namely that you've been smoking something causing serious hallucinations. How ridiculous can your life get? Or is it just that you suck with descriptions?
Seems to me that you're excessively overthinking the whole situation, which has contributed to worsening the chaos that's obviously swirling in your head. All that first, second and third persons you refer to only perplex your utterance, so I'm going to give them names. The first person, let's call him Joe, can't possibly know what the second person, who we'll refer to as George, is all about; the two are, after all, strangers to one another; people aren't always what they seem to be, and even if they are, you can be sure that there's a lot more depth to them than that first impression. My advice – get to know them at least a little before you make any conclusions and if that is as hard as you make it out to be AND it is absolutely obligatory that you cooperate with them, then make a damn effort. You might spend a lifetime in struggles to understand someone, but you have to at least make a hell of a try of it before you give up. I can't tell you anything else regarding your problem.
What you have been racking for ideas will remain a mystery to me, since I doubt that whatever lies inside your head is an actual brain.
Had to drag my brother being a sufferer of my poisonous presence, didn't you? Don't worry, he's holding up as fine as a garden weed. Simply can't get rid of him. Or you.
I'd appreciate it if our correspondence ended here, but you're too annoying not to reply, so I wouldn't bet any money on it. Well, at least you didn't shower me with profanities this time, which is a nice breath of fresh air and definitely an improvement. Good job, you might actually be headed on the road to growing out of your imbecility.
silence is my jam but i like rock too
Did I really call you all those things? Huh.
Don't you worry, I'll always be here to "annoy you with my nonsense". I'm glad you're enjoying it.
Well, excuse me for my poor writing skills. I am no
you, after all. (The latest chapter you posted was great, by the way. I know you have a phobia of compliments, I hope your head doesn't explode from this one.)
I haven't been smoking anything, thank you very much, but I do suck with descriptions. Although you managed to get the idea of it, so I'll note that as an improvement in my skills.
The first person is a girl, how did you not get that?! Let's call her Jasmine instead. So, you're saying Jasmine doesn't know what George is all about and should get to know him better. That's good advice, but what if George doesn't want to share anything with her or get to know her in return? I'm telling you, he seems less sociable than a rock. Anyways, I really appreciate your advice. Who knew you could be helpful?
Don't you worry your pretty little head with the location of my brain. And let me assure you - I do have one.
Ah, I'm glad your brother hasn't thrown himself off a bridge yet, give him a hug on my behalf. And I know that you don't want to get rid of me. I imagine I'm your only friend, so be careful not to get on my bad side.
Calling you profanities isn't a sign of imbecility, ever heard of the saying "I call it as I see it"? I'm glad you're noticing an improvement and you're damn right I won't stop bothering you. Don't pretend you're annoyed by it, Sunshine. I know you like me.
escaping my thoughts
You're wrong.
silence is my jam but i like rock too
Wow. Three whole words. I'm flattered, Sunshine.
escaping my thoughts
Tsk. Annoying.
silence is my jam but i like rock too
And yet, you keep replying.
escaping my thoughts
It would seem, you're not the only one with a mental dysfunction.
silence is my jam but i like rock too
No, since I don't have one. You're right though, you totally do.
escaping my thoughts
I keep replying to you, which is proof enough of a disorder. Don't tell my brother though, he'll send me to the psychiatrist's again.
silence is my jam but i like rock too
That's where you belong, dearie.
escaping my thoughts
Hn.
silence is my jam but i like rock too
And what's that supposed to mean?
escaping my thoughts
You're annoying. And I'm only messaging you because I'm bored out of mind.
"Mr. Shinji, I suggest you put that phone away this instant unless you want detention." Mrs. Nolan called out in her monotonous voice, making Paul roll his eyes before he put his phone back in his pocket. "You too, Miss Berlitz. When I said you can entertain yourselves on your own till the end of the period, I meant homework."
"I was just doing research for my History project, Ma'am." The girl's smooth voice rang out from somewhere behind him. He briefly turned around to see her holding out her phone to their teacher so that she could see what was on the screen.
Paul narrowed his eyes at her sugary smile. The girl noticed him staring and regarded him with a brief look, which was enough to give away her amusement of the whole situation. Her blue eyes were shining with mirth as she smirked at him and returned her attention back to Mrs. Nolan, who accepted her excuse and let her keep using her phone.
The boy turned back around with a scoff. Teachers were so stupid nowadays. And silly little lying girls, who look like water nymphs, shouldn't get their way this easily.
A minute later his attention was caught by the vibrating of his phone, which signaled a new notification email. He took a cautious look at Mrs. Nolan, who had resumed sitting in a stooping position behind a stack of papers on her desk and tsk-ing with disapproval as she checked them one by one. He fished his phone out and opened the message he had received.
silence is my jam but I like rock too
Wish Jasmine luck. She's going in for the gold.
He didn't have a chance to reply with an 'I don't give a damn about Jasmine,' because he suddenly felt someone take the seat beside him. Paul turned to his right to stare at the girl who had swiftly moved from her desk in the back as soundlessly as a cat and was currently looking at him with the most innocent and fake smile he'd ever seen.
He scowled at her and said "what," through gritted teeth. She appeared unaffected by his hostility and kept smiling widely, making his irritation grow in an instant.
"We have to work together, don't we? For the Farrell thing?"
"I remember," he spat out, letting her know just what he thought of the whole arrangement. Her smile wavered a bit and he saw her eyes flash with annoyance for a brief second, but she kept her bubbly façade in check.
He narrowed his eyes at the happy display she insisted on keeping on and wondered what it was about her obvious falseness that infuriated him so much. It was as if since their last encounter, namely the one that resulted in them being forced to work together by Farrell, she had built a wall around her, whose purpose was to conceal her true self, the essence of her entity.
Well, to hell with that.
Paul had no intention of tearing down any figurative walls or figuring out just what was up with this weird girl, because he hated a lot of things, but liars were something he simply couldn't stand.
His previous encounters with her had peeked his curiosity, sure, and he could see how she could have some things she might want to keep away from the public's attention; but it wasn't any of his concern to find a reason why that may be and he was perfectly fine with leaving it at that.
"Okay then," she carried on in an unabashed matter, letting her smile falter a little to make way for a contemplative look. "How do you propose we go about this project thing? We're supposed to explore the ways in which life is amazing." She said it almost apathetically, as if she didn't quite believe the idea herself.
Paul stared at her for a few seconds, before she looked up at him with her big blue eyes, reminding him that the silence was his cue to answer. He didn't move his gaze away from her as he replied. "It doesn't matter to me how we do it."
She rolled her eyes and he suddenly felt the urge to do so too. What exactly did she expect him to say? "Do you happen to have any ideas?" She asked, even though it was obvious that no, he didn't have any ideas.
Paul didn't answer and the girl raised her eyebrows. "That's a no, then?" He sent her a brief glare and watched as amusement filled her eyes. "Fine. My suggestion is to start exploring in the literal sense. Find ordinary things in the everyday life of other people which make it amazing. Write them down, turn them in and get it over with."
She smiled brilliantly and he could see certain impatience in her gaze. "How's that for a plan?"
He felt the corners of his mouth twitch upwards at the edgy aura she was giving off, but caught himself before it had managed to turn into a full smirk. "I told you, whatever works. When do we start?"
"Wait by the entrance at the end of the classes." Before he could say anything in response, she soundlessly slipped back to her previous seat, effectively ending the conversation.
Mrs. Nolan stood up from her desk and scanned the classroom with her sharp gaze, before she proclaimed the class dismissed. Paul took his bag and went out in the busy hallway, passing by idiotically shouting and chattering students on his way towards his locker. As he took out the books he'd need for his next period, his thoughts involuntarily led him to the girl, as he referred to her in his mind, rather than using her actual name.
She had solidified his definition of her as strange, but he knew there was more to it. That, however, was knowledge he preferred to disregard as irrelevant, because that's what she was to him after all. And the fact that he was going to be seeing a lot more of her didn't give her some brand-new significance in his life.
It really didn't. He wasn't stupid though. He knew that in order to keep it that way, he had to keep his slowly, but admittedly, growing curiosity in check, because that girl seemed to be the kind of girl that makes you wonder. And if he wasn't careful, his rarely expressed ability to do just that, wonder, would lead him to something complex and bothersome, just like her.
No girl, not even girls that looked like water nymphs, with their long midnight blue tresses and eyes like shiny mountain lakes, could be significant enough to merit his attention.
Still, he wondered as he made his way towards the entrance of the school building later that day, why his astute intuition was screaming at him to remember the moment he became entangled in her life, because it somehow would be important one day.
George is a fucking idiot, Dawn thought as she made her way through the crowded hallways with her phone in her hands, typing the exact same sentence to her online pen-pal.
escaping my thoughts honored her with a reply only half a minute later.
Jasmine must have had a real profound conversation with him to come to that conclusion.
The girl smirked as she paused in front of the big oak gate of the school building to type an answer.
silence is my jam but i like rock too
Jasmine tried. Jasmine failed.
After pressing the send button, she took two long strides to the doors of the entrance, stepping outside and stuffing her phone in her pocket in the process. The late afternoon sun was throwing powerful beams of orange light and she had to narrow her eyes in order to see. Her gaze found the person she was looking for after a few moments of searching.
He was casually leaning on the railing next to the stairs and staring at the screen of his phone. Dawn took a deep breath as if to prepare herself, and let a smile slip onto her face as she approached him with a hop in her step. "Hey!" She greeted and fought the urge to cringe at the artificiality in her own voice.
Paul looked up at her with raised eyebrows and she suppressed the urge to shiver under his gaze. She felt as though his intense obsidian eyes could see right through her and the façade she had been constructing around herself. The thought unnerved her, but she tried not to let it show and smiled even more widely instead.
He rolled his eyes as he straightened up from his leaning position, confirming Dawn's suspicions that he didn't believe the picture perfect she was trying to keep up. She exhaled and forced some of her nervousness away.
Paul spared her a bored look as he spoke up, "What now?"
"Well, if you don't have anything to do, I was thinking we could do some exploring now." She searched his face for a reaction, but all she was met with was a blank stare.
"Alright. Exploring what?" He started going down the stairs and Dawn hurried to follow.
"I dunno… we could go in the park and observe the way people act or something of the sort." The look he threw her way screamed of incredulity. She smiled sheepishly, willing away the blush of embarrassment which threatened to bloom on her face.
He continued staring at her weirdly and just as she got annoyed to the point where she was ready to chew out a wrathful rant in defense of her idea, he smirked unexpectedly and said a simple "alright", before continuing on his way down the stairs once again. Dawn opened and closed her mouth in confusion, before puffing out a cheek in indignation, coming to the conclusion that he just took a guilty pleasure in riling her up.
Don't let him get to you, Dawn. Just breathe.
"So, we're watching people in the park?" Dawn gritted her teeth as she heard the unmistakable derision in his voice.
"Yes," she snapped back sharply.
"No need to get touchy, I was simply double-checking."
Jerk. Dawn exhaled in frustration and tried to focus her attention on something else. She saw a puddle a few feet ahead and made sure to step in it with extra force as they passed it by. She giggled at the splash she created and hopped on to another puddle just up ahead.
It was surprisingly easy to ignore the cranky vibes Paul was emitting when you were a childish idiot, the girl mused as she jumped in a particularly deep puddle and caused sprays to fly out and soak her companion.
"Cut it out." She started walking backwards so that she could face the human embodiment of the rainy cloud, which was insistent on crapping on her parade.
"You're a real buzzkill, you know that?"
"And you're annoying." Paul scowled at her as he walked forwards with slightly slouched shoulders.
Dawn rolled her eyes. Apparently, everyone communicating with her agreed on that aspect. Stupid Paul. Stupid pen-pal. "Tell me something I haven't been told yet, why don't you?"
Still walking in a poor imitation of Michael Jackson's trademark dance move, she started fumbling in her backpack and got out her phone and some big-ass headphones in a screaming yellow color. She felt Paul's quizzical gaze on her, but ignored it as she plugged them in and selected a song from her library, immediately beginning to move her head and feet to the beat.
"All I wanna say is that. They don't really care about us." Dawn was very aware of how off-key her singing was, but she's be damned if she cared, so she just closed her eyes and smiled goofily as she resumed her walking, this time in the normal direction.
She couldn't really hear anything from the loud music of her headphones, but she could imagine Paul saying something sarcastic or stating the degree to which she irritated him or something of the sort. She couldn't care less about any of that, but after two songs her curiosity got the better of her and she turned around, moving one headphone upwards. To her astonishment, Paul was scribbling something in a notebook as he walked with a weirdly suiting contemplative look on his face.
"What'cha doing?" She asked, unable to stifle her curiosity. He looked up and she saw his eyes fill with irritation at the interruption.
Dawn imagined he'd snap back with something along the lines of 'how's it any of your business?' or not reply at all, but she was surprised when he straightforwardly regarded her with an answer. "Working on my essay."
Her jaw dropped and she stopped dead in her tracks. "You're what?" She asked incredulously, but Paul just rolled his eyes and passed her by offhandedly. "I… you… what… how?!"
"You're being loud. And annoying." The boy tsk-ed as he carried on walking, threatening to step out of Dawn's hearing range soon. She rallied and hurried to fall back in step with him.
"And you're not answering my question! How could you possibly be working on the essay already? What would you even write about?"
Paul rolled his eyes yet again and Dawn had to bite her tongue to restrain herself from telling him to cut it off. He turned his head sideways and bore his intense gaze into her eyes, making her wonder for a second how someone could have irises that dark. "The aim of this whole road trip is to explore reasons which make different people's lives amazing, isn't it? Well, that's what I'm doing. And I'm writing them down so that I don't forget them. Does that answer your question?"
Dawn furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "But we haven't even reached the park yet or observed any specific people."
He didn't move his intense gaze from her. "I am allowed to make observations outside the things you order. Right?"
"Of course, but… I mean, what observations did you manage to make from this big old road of dust? No offence to the dust or anything, but it's… well, not the most interesting or inspirational thing in the world."
Paul didn't answer and focused his eyes straight ahead once again, while putting his notebook back in his bag. She followed it with her eyes until it was out of her view and frowned. "Aren't you going to tell me what you wrote down? I have an essay to write too, you know."
He blatantly ignored her and put his own headphones in his ears, effectively preventing the conversation from progressing any further.
"Fine, be inspired by dust." What a drama queen.
Dawn caught herself taking up Paul's trademark eye-roll. She resumed listening to the music coming from her monstrous headphones and tried walking normally, but ended up failing and giving in to the beat once again as she took ridiculous steps forward, jumping and spinning insanely.
Maintaining a normal front had never been a strong side of hers, anyways. The idiot in her just took over sometimes and she couldn't care less about Paul's opinion on it; as far as her concern went, he was stuck with her for a good whole term of school, so he'd have to just find a way to deal with it.
What other people thought of her wasn't any of her business, anyway.
People were annoying, Paul concluded as his aimless stroll was approaching its end, slowly and agonizingly. They were annoying with their screaming little kids, who reached the sky on their swings not having a care in the world, with their dogs, which barked loudly and shitted wherever the hell they pleased, with their perfect little lives, which remained pure of the world's horrors. He had no way of knowing what all the other people he shared this planet with had endured and he knew he shouldn't be judging any stranger, who wore a smile on his face, because that wasn't how he was brought up.
But a lot of things had happened while aforementioned bringing up took place, so he would judge whoever the hell he wanted. He was a hypocrite, he knew, but people were still annoying.
"Can you believe how many colors there are in the sky right now?"
And ironically, there he was, stuck with the most annoying person of them all.
She still had Reggie to beat though.
Deciding to humor her, he looked up and took in the spectacular view before him. The sky was beautiful in that moment, that much he couldn't deny, and contrary to popular belief, he was, in fact, able to appreciate beauty when he saw it.
The girl sighed from beside him with something he identified as contentment. Close to it, anyways. It was weird for him to see someone express such a positive emotion while being around him, but that girl was an exception when it came to most things, it seemed.
Someone who had shown so many different sides to them in the span of just a day deserved to be labeled as an exception as far as he was concerned. That much she had earned from him.
He briefly wondered what else she would come to be in his eyes during their partnership.
She had started out with fake smiles and false cheeriness, but some genuine parts of her entity had randomly shone through as well. That didn't necessarily mean she had dropped her guard around him and it was plain to see that there was a long way to go to reach that point, if ever. He couldn't say he minded. They weren't friends, he was just as distant, if not more so, and there wasn't anything special about the fragile and purely superficial connection they had been forced into.
And still, as they walked in peaceful silence across one of the quieter streets of the city, whose skyline was illuminated by the setting sun, he wondered where this whole thing was going and if at the end of the project the girl with the midnight blue hair, which was an equally ridiculous color as his own, would remain as much of an enigma.
"Okay then," the fairy girl spoke up and Paul turned around, realizing she had stopped walking. "This is where I live. Thanks for walking me home."
He was about to say that he didn't intend on walking her home at all, since he didn't even know which direction she lived in. The girl smiled before he could tell her that and the falseness of her smile suddenly sent him into alert mode.
"Have a nice evening, Paul," she said, the smile, which didn't reach her eyes, still in place, as if jammed onto her face with a hammer. She started walking across the driveway towards one of the neatly lined up gray houses on the street, while Paul followed her with his narrowed eyes.
Upon his first look at the plain gray house, the thought which immediately flooded his mind was that it looked so unlike the proper home for a girl with such horrendously yellow headphones and a fascination for puddles. Somehow though, he didn't doubt that that was indeed her house.
What he was sure of, however, was that something felt off. And his gut feeling usually never failed him.
He didn't know if it had been her obviously fake smile, or her posture and way of walking, which seemed to be too jolly for someone who was returning home to a house as grim-looking as that one. He couldn't put his finger on it, but something was wrong.
"You don't plan on spending the night at school again, do you?" He suddenly called to her and watched her back stiffen as she froze a few steps from her front door. She turned around to look at him with false innocence and he wondered how a liar like her could be that easy to read.
"Of course not. Don't worry about me, Paul." She smiled at him again and waved goodbye somewhat expectantly, this time in no hurry to enter the house as she apparently waited for him to walk away.
He narrowed his eyes at her in suspicion. It was so obvious to him that she was lying, but he knew how stubborn she could get, so he opted for a different technique to ensure she didn't spend the night at the school's storage room.
The boy cleared his throat and spoke up nonchalantly, "Do you happen to have anything to eat in there? I'm starving."
Damn, he sounded ridiculous. No wonder she looked at him as if he had grown a second head. He coughed lightly as he tried to not let his embarrassment show, "Well?"
She looked confused for a moment, before she smiled again and motioned for him to follow her. "Yeah. Sure, come inside. I can make you a sandwich or something."
"Thanks," he breathed out as he stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked behind her, taking note of the uneasiness in her stance. He wasn't sure what his plan of action was. To wait until one of her parents came home so that she wouldn't be able to sneak out afterwards? Stand guard in front of her house like a watchdog?
He mentally sighed. The predicaments he found himself into recently were getting more and more ridiculous, not to mention bothersome. At the back of his mind, he noted how all of those situations somehow revolved around the girl and once again reminded himself how annoying and troublesome she was.
He noticed her hands shaking as she unlocked the door and wondered if she would have already gotten away from her house if it wasn't for his supposedly empty stomach. As they entered, he narrowed his eyes at his surroundings. The small hallway, which led to the staircase, was dark and unadorned, except for a hanger which held a few women'с coats and a small shoe cabinet.
Paul followed Dawn as she took a turn and entered a spacious room which combined a living room and a kitchen in one. There weren't any living room essentials missing - the TV was in place, and so were the couch and coffee table pointed at it, along with two big armchairs; and yet, he felt as if though something that was supposed to be there wasn't. He couldn't determine exactly what it was, until his eyes fell on the shelf above the fireplace, which was void of any pictures or cheesy souvenirs that usually gathered dust in normal family houses.
Dawn was staring at him, he noted, as he hurried to move his eyes away from the incriminating shelf, which told him more about the girl than any of her fake smiles. She looked away as well and went over to the fridge behind the kitchen counter in the other half of the room.
"Okay, there's ham, cucumbers, tomatoes, tuna and butter. Not really much of a choice, but still. What would you like your sandwich with?"
Considering he wasn't hungry at all, he opted for the lightest sandwich possible, only cucumbers and butter. Dawn raised her eyebrows at him, but didn't comment on his choice as she quickly prepared what he had requested.
"There," she handed it to him after putting some wrapping paper around it like an expert sandwich saleswoman. "Would you like some napkins for the way?"
He shook his head no, not missing the way she was parenthetically urging him out of the house. As they went back out in the hallway, his sharp ears picked up on a sound from outside, which sounded like a car being abruptly pulled up in the driveway and he mentally patted himself on the back for a job well done on keeping the girl away from the school's storage room for the night.
Dawn seemed to have heard the noise as well, but her reaction was of an entirely different nature from his. She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion as she murmured to herself, "It's way too early for her to be-" Her eyes suddenly went wide and before Paul could understand what was happening, she had grabbed him by the arm and dragged him further down the corridor towards what seemed to be a back door.
She hastily opened it for him and practically pushed him outside, while he was wondering what the hell was going on. "Go!" She said demandingly and he recognized the urgency in her voice.
"J'hanna! Johanna, where are you?" Something clicked together in Paul's brain as he heard a man's slurred words echo from the front door.
He didn't have time to react though as Dawn hastily slammed the door after him and locked it in one swift move. The situation finally caught up to him as he finally comprehended what was going on, but it was too late to do anything from his position.
He banged his fist against the back door and shouted, "Let me in, Dawn!" but it was no use.
There wasn't a response from the other side and all he could do was stare ahead, stupefied by the knowledge of what his efforts to keep the girl from sneaking off had just cost her.
Essay notes:
Her smiles are false, but jumping in puddles seems to be as genuine a joy as it is an oddity.
She has her guard up, but she still can't help giving in to the beat of her favorite music and there is nothing fake about the ludicrous way in which she moves her feet and head, absolutely uncaring about the opinion of a stranger.
She comes across as someone familiar with darkness and the concept doesn't seem to scare her.
But her ridiculous hair and horrifyingly yellow headphones only bring more color into the world.
And she sees it for what it is, aware of and acquainted with its bad sides, but not afraid to revel in its good ones.