Author's Note: I think I know where I'm going, I think I know how to get there…I think and here we go…
Ps/ Now I know why people write and publish, in every which way they can, be in novels, articles in school newspapers or fanfics. Thanks to SMVFreak, my3rdeye, Lrnd & Elfin for the reviews…I am bursting with fruit flavours :-)
Disclaimer: Usual disclaimer stuffs…
CHAPTER 3 – A Brand New Day
THE LUTHOR ANCESTRAL HOME…much earlier that day
LEX
I open my eyes and watch my alarm clock glow green numeric. I am 3 minutes early; its 5.57am and I wait for it to ring in my victory at 6.00am. I do this every morning, like a self-test to see if I ever lose focus, or let down my guard. It sickens me to know that I never do…not in even in sleep.
Frivolity eludes me, it always has. Even pre-meteor days, I was an insecure child at best. My mother, whom I loved like nothing else in the world, tried her best to inject some laughter and colour in my life…but with a domineering father like the one I had, it was like living in a black hole. Nothing could get through, except darkness and war euphemisms. My mother died of heart complications, that was the official diagnose. But I knew better. She died because he sucked the life out of her. And so post-meteor hairstyle (or lack thereof), I was determined to be the black hole in HIS life…just as he was to hers, and mine.
And so Sir Daddy decides to send me to this hillbilly hick town called Smallville, thinking I would get as sleepy as its townsfolk and forget my mission to make his life a living hell. He was wrong. I spent all day researching, scheming, plotting and doing. One day Daddy, my black hole will be bigger.
My Luthor mind awakes and I get out of bed. I tell myself it's a brand new day.
But I kid myself, for it never is.
**********
*Do you ever feel like you are due for a change in character?*
I am looking at my wardrobe, at my rows upon rows of impeccable black & grey pants, suits and shirts…all shades of grey, and I have this uneasy feeling that something in me wants to change or is changing, and I am powerless to stop it. It's like you are looking at life through eyes that are cold and grey and out of the corner of your eyes you see a flash of colour…a blinding red perhaps, or even a brighter blue.
Maybe what they say about small towns getting underneath your skin is true; I look at myself dressed in my customary black pants and grey long sleeved cashmere top. Maybe tomorrow I'll be wearing dungarees like a farm boy and saying "Aww shucks". I am powerless to stop the grin (no, GRIM smile) that forms on my lips as I envision that thought.
It's all started when wholesome Clark Kent saved me from a watery death in a Porsche a few days ago.
My eyes are unaccustomed to random acts of kindness, parental love and true friendship, and after that day, there has been a kaleidoscope of colour in my life, albeit unwelcome glimpses, but absorbed nonetheless. In the form of Mr. Kent's arm around his heroic boy who jumped in cold waters and risked his farm boy life to save mine. On Mrs. Kent's white tulips, the ones she grows on the Kent farm, where I went to express my gratitude. In Chloe Sullivan's cornflower blue eyes, when we were introduced in The Beanery, as she calls me Mr. Luthor, in a voice that taunts otherwise.
Ever since that day, I've felt myself drawn into the intricate social web that is Smallville. At The Beanery I am accosted by the wondrous smell of caffeine and the habits and social graces of the town's teenagers. I sit alone in an overstuffed armchair, slowly drinking my expresso and wait to be engulfed in a world that is so unlike mine. And last night Clark comes in and regales me with stories about the farm, Pete with his football fiascos and Chloe with her wonder of the weird. I see too, the perfect Lana Lang and her equally perfect boyfriend, Whitney, and I am reminded that nothing has changed in the world. Technology might change our infrastructure, but socially, everything remains the status quo. The beautiful cheerleading princess, the handsome jock, the earnest farm boy, the best friends… I hear talk of homecoming and while I am supposed to play Lord of the Manor and sit and watch, I jump in from their peripheral vision and say,
"If you want it to be a night to remember, I shall graciously let you three have a free rein of the Luthor Limousine for the night."
Clark says "Yes" and smiles his megawatt smile, Pete echoing in agreement, and Chloe finds the whole thing 'wicked'. And I think I have made friends.
Life and colour in this hillbilly town, I muse and whistle down to have breakfast.
*Aww shucks*
And so you have it ladies and gentlemen, a new lease of life, a brand new day, whether you want it or not.
**********
Ps/ Now I know why people write and publish, in every which way they can, be in novels, articles in school newspapers or fanfics. Thanks to SMVFreak, my3rdeye, Lrnd & Elfin for the reviews…I am bursting with fruit flavours :-)
Disclaimer: Usual disclaimer stuffs…
CHAPTER 3 – A Brand New Day
THE LUTHOR ANCESTRAL HOME…much earlier that day
LEX
I open my eyes and watch my alarm clock glow green numeric. I am 3 minutes early; its 5.57am and I wait for it to ring in my victory at 6.00am. I do this every morning, like a self-test to see if I ever lose focus, or let down my guard. It sickens me to know that I never do…not in even in sleep.
Frivolity eludes me, it always has. Even pre-meteor days, I was an insecure child at best. My mother, whom I loved like nothing else in the world, tried her best to inject some laughter and colour in my life…but with a domineering father like the one I had, it was like living in a black hole. Nothing could get through, except darkness and war euphemisms. My mother died of heart complications, that was the official diagnose. But I knew better. She died because he sucked the life out of her. And so post-meteor hairstyle (or lack thereof), I was determined to be the black hole in HIS life…just as he was to hers, and mine.
And so Sir Daddy decides to send me to this hillbilly hick town called Smallville, thinking I would get as sleepy as its townsfolk and forget my mission to make his life a living hell. He was wrong. I spent all day researching, scheming, plotting and doing. One day Daddy, my black hole will be bigger.
My Luthor mind awakes and I get out of bed. I tell myself it's a brand new day.
But I kid myself, for it never is.
**********
*Do you ever feel like you are due for a change in character?*
I am looking at my wardrobe, at my rows upon rows of impeccable black & grey pants, suits and shirts…all shades of grey, and I have this uneasy feeling that something in me wants to change or is changing, and I am powerless to stop it. It's like you are looking at life through eyes that are cold and grey and out of the corner of your eyes you see a flash of colour…a blinding red perhaps, or even a brighter blue.
Maybe what they say about small towns getting underneath your skin is true; I look at myself dressed in my customary black pants and grey long sleeved cashmere top. Maybe tomorrow I'll be wearing dungarees like a farm boy and saying "Aww shucks". I am powerless to stop the grin (no, GRIM smile) that forms on my lips as I envision that thought.
It's all started when wholesome Clark Kent saved me from a watery death in a Porsche a few days ago.
My eyes are unaccustomed to random acts of kindness, parental love and true friendship, and after that day, there has been a kaleidoscope of colour in my life, albeit unwelcome glimpses, but absorbed nonetheless. In the form of Mr. Kent's arm around his heroic boy who jumped in cold waters and risked his farm boy life to save mine. On Mrs. Kent's white tulips, the ones she grows on the Kent farm, where I went to express my gratitude. In Chloe Sullivan's cornflower blue eyes, when we were introduced in The Beanery, as she calls me Mr. Luthor, in a voice that taunts otherwise.
Ever since that day, I've felt myself drawn into the intricate social web that is Smallville. At The Beanery I am accosted by the wondrous smell of caffeine and the habits and social graces of the town's teenagers. I sit alone in an overstuffed armchair, slowly drinking my expresso and wait to be engulfed in a world that is so unlike mine. And last night Clark comes in and regales me with stories about the farm, Pete with his football fiascos and Chloe with her wonder of the weird. I see too, the perfect Lana Lang and her equally perfect boyfriend, Whitney, and I am reminded that nothing has changed in the world. Technology might change our infrastructure, but socially, everything remains the status quo. The beautiful cheerleading princess, the handsome jock, the earnest farm boy, the best friends… I hear talk of homecoming and while I am supposed to play Lord of the Manor and sit and watch, I jump in from their peripheral vision and say,
"If you want it to be a night to remember, I shall graciously let you three have a free rein of the Luthor Limousine for the night."
Clark says "Yes" and smiles his megawatt smile, Pete echoing in agreement, and Chloe finds the whole thing 'wicked'. And I think I have made friends.
Life and colour in this hillbilly town, I muse and whistle down to have breakfast.
*Aww shucks*
And so you have it ladies and gentlemen, a new lease of life, a brand new day, whether you want it or not.
**********