Author's note: Second chapter up, hope you get the feel of it.
Frenchy: You got me there, well, going through some personal issues, and no better way than to feel awkwardly better than by berating yourself. I don't know, I just hate assuming that people actually like me, because half of the time, hell most of the time, they don't. (probably because I'm obnoxious, vain and conceited…hey, my loss…) I don't think I'll elaborate on Heart Redfield, we both know she's six feet under now anyway. Yeah, killing her made me a bit sad too, but if I get sad, then most probably my readers will too.
Jon: Cool man, thanks. You know, I tell myself that no two people ever write the same way, we have our own pros and cons, kind of saves me from having to say that I'm never going to be as good as someone when it comes to something. Thanks for the rev.
Orion: I don't use Japanese terms, hentai, yuri, yaoi, kind of un-cool for my tastes. When I say something, I say it straight up, if it's gay sex, then its gay sex, period. Thanks for the rev by the way, sorry I haven't got the chance to read the story you posted yet, sometime over the weekend maybe. I have to go and help plan the university's pep rally.
Chris Redfield Fan: Yeah, I remember you. Thanks for the rev.
Chapter 2: "Distant"
"So what do you expect in sociology?" the middle-aged professor asked, running a free hand through his short, black hair. It was already his style, always after introducing himself and giving a brief explanation of the syllabus, he would then ask that question. Dr. Era walked to the far end of the black board and wrote the question on it. He had on a tucked in checkered flannel and a pair of cream-colored slacks. "Anybody?" he asked again. They were freshmen that just happened to find this course on their class schedules, of course they didn't have a clue what to expect.
"I'm sure you've all heard of sociology before…" he continued, most probably only to tease the students who thought that he may have to begin calling for recitation. "…Alright, let's move on to a different question…what do you expect from each other?" he then asked, writing the question on the board as well. Still, the student's didn't respond. They knew each other from their freshmen orientation, but they weren't too presumptuous as to declare what they seriously thought they could do for each other. "Cheat off each other's tests." A guy from the back suggested, making everyone chuckle. "Yes…at least somebody responded." The professor commented, writing his suggestion on the blackboard. "Anything else?" he asked, only to be met by an awkward silence. "…Alright, what do you expect from the teacher?" he then asked.
"…No grade lower than 2.5!" somebody shouted. "Free cuts!" his friend added, making the class begin to act normally. The awkward phase was over. "What else?" the professor asked after quickly writing the suggestions. "No attendance!" screamed a girl right up front, causing everyone to cheer. "Oh, I wish." The professor replied, once again writing on the board. "Okay, that's it for now!" he shouted over the class who asked for easy quizzes and no assignments.
"…More or less, what you say, what is in this board…it tells a lot about you." He said, resulting in a lot of nervous laughter. "…But let's not get into that, shall we? Thing is, if you deserve a 2.5, then why not? Unfortunately, the others suggestions are a little out of this world to be feasible. Well, since this is the first day and everything, I'm letting you go early." He said, drawing cheers from the class. "Now go forth and multiply! Oh…and read chapter 1!"
"Hey…" a girl came up to Derrick, who was still putting his notebook back in his messenger bag.
"Uh, hi Marie." He responded, swinging the bag across his shoulder. "I was wondering, where'd you buy that sociology book? I checked the supply store downstairs, but they're already out…" she told him, brushing back her golden hair. She was the type of girl that had both beauty, and brains, not a rare combination in the days when the most feared aspect of college life was becoming a stereotype. It was being called an artist and nothing more, a brain and nothing else. "…I…you know, my sister still has another copy from…a few years ago, so you can have this." Derrick said, handing over the textbook.
"No, I can't." the girl protested, backing away a step. "I mean, thanks, but that thing still costs…"
"Don't worry about it. It's not like my dad would mind anyway." He said with a hint of bitterness in his voice. "…You sure?" she asked, taking the book. "Yeah." He replied, and promptly turned away before she could say thanks.
"I had this amazing dream." Barry said as he poured a cup of tea for himself. He and his wife, Hallie, sat in the middle of the atrium, a large rectangular area that had a smaller square that was confined in glass, where no roof hindered the sun from pouring down. Vines crept up the walls, while shards of grass looked up from the sides of the tiled floor. Finding time for tea was a custom for this couple. They used to swap stories of survival and the occasional cliché of towering love. That wasn't the case now. "Another one about operant conditioning?" she asked him sarcastically. "No, I've had enough of triggering predictable responses from various organisms." He replied. "…You wanted to brainwash your son."
"And I failed miserably." He poured a cup of tea for his estranged wife. It was as if they were no longer a couple, most probably no longer in love. "Sugar?" he asked, to which Hallie shook her head. "I remember the time when I called you Desdemona." He told her. "Yes, and I fear that you would stab me in my sleep all for a silly handkerchief, my dear Othello." She replied, taking a sip from her china cup. "…My dream…it was quite amazing." He said, returning to the topic.
"Well, since there is no stopping you from expounding your Freudian fantasies…please, expound."
"I…dreamt that…our son would help in making society a most beautiful place, where no social conflict exists." He told her, leaning back on his chair. "I hope you didn't dream that he would make a thesis about Nazi Germany being the model society for an ultimate race."
"No, it was…extremely vague, but I saw hundreds of people…cheering him."
"…" Hallie put down her cup of tea and leaned forward. It was new for her to hear something resembling a positive dream about their only son. "You aren't planning anything for him, aren't you?" she asked suspiciously. "No, and that is what scares me. I saw lights, bright, beautiful, and I saw people. Colored, white, all of them together, and I had this…faintest voice, telling me that it was all because of my son."
"…"
"I think I may have gone mad."
"You realize that just now?"
"I know what is best for our son, and if that means that I must control every single aspect of his life, then so be it. If that dream is a sign, then pray maybe he still has hope."
"Don't you mean plan?"
"I'm sorry, but you know how euphemistic I get."
"I noticed."
Afternoon rolled by, bringing in the disheartening heat that made people keep to the penumbras of the buildings and walkways. This also made everyone crowd the Z2, the canteen that was smacked in the middle of the university. "Alex." Derrick waved at the young man, prompting him to come by. "Sorry, but I had to do something in the SC office." Alex apologized, placing his bag down and sitting in front of Derrick. It was just the two of them at that table. "It's okay. I've been reading up on Freud anyway." Derrick replied, throwing down a group of photocopied notes. "Dr. Sonoco?" Alex asked, taking the photocopies and reading them. "How'd you know?"
"Does he think that man is in essence, evil?"
"Uh-huh."
"It's him then."
"So…what's good to eat here?" Derrick asked, somewhat irritated that Alex didn't notice how he had to wait for him to get there so they could eat together. "I told you to go eat ahead…" Alex commented, standing up, with Derrick following his lead. "Is it okay to leave our stuff behind?" the younger man asked, noticing Alex just stashed his bag and notebook down on another chair.
"Yeah, it's no problem." He responded, looking off into the lunch line of the main bar. "Does boxed sound good to you?" Alex then asked, realizing that it would take forever for them to get lunch from that line. "Boxed?" Derrick looked around, noticing numerous stalls that were placed inside the canteen. There was a 'Rice in a Box' stall by a corner, with about four people in line. "…Sounds good." Derrick put down his messenger bag and walked ahead, occasionally glancing behind to make sure that his boyfriend was still behind him.
Alex wanted to put his arm around Derrick's shoulder as he watched him from behind, but he knew that the younger man wouldn't want the world to know that they were an item, especially since the whole school knew about Alex' sexual orientation. It was frustrating, only being able to share their more intimate moments in places where they could be sure that no one would recognize them. Alex knew how hard it was to come out of the closet, and he knew how hard it was for him to regain the trust of his family as well as his closest friends afterwards, but it was the reward, the joy of freedom, which made the pain seem so miniscule.
"How were the classes?" Alex asked as he stood by Derrick's side as they waited in line.
"They were fine. I think my block's a little too noisy though."
"…You make it sound like you're so distant from them."
"Well…I am. I just don't connect with any of them." Derrick replied, looking straight ahead.
"You're going to have to. This is college…you need each other." Alex's voice showed his concern, something that Derrick hoped the bystanders didn't notice.
Hallie rearranged the roses on the coffee table, while Barry was busying himself with an old novel, 'Some prefer Nettles'. "Something's wrong?" Barry asked, without raising his gaze from the text on the brownish paper. "Like you care." Hallie commented, stretching her back after she felt that the flowers looked better than perfect. "Of course I do, you are still my wife."
"By law." Hallie responded, making Barry chuckle. Beauty, opulence, it was a striking facade for the couple that had the foundations of their lives already cracking under their own heavy crosses. "I'm just worried about what dormitory life would be like for Derrick."
"It's either he will adapt, or he'd be left behind." Barry replied coolly, turning a page.
"Very comforting words. Have you opted for being a public speaker?"
"Ten ways to a darker, more brooding you... I honestly doubt it." They hid their disgust in sarcasm, wanting to make each other feel that they are still on top of their game. At times, they just wanted to snap at each other, yell at each other to shut up, but if he or she did that, then it would be equivalent to losing their little battles.
"At least you know yourself very, very well."
"I can't say the same for you." Barry replied, raising his eyebrow. His voice became more menacing this time around, just like how he would talk to his son, riddled with disdain.
"Excuse me?" Hallie asked him, placing her hands on her waist. "You've been seeing someone else, haven't you?" Barry said through a sneer, putting down the book that he was reading. "…What makes you say that?"
"I still have people who work under me, you know. What's his name…Richmond Bateman?"
"…I'm sorry, but if you expect me to spend the rest of my days with some…thing like you…then I… must disappoint you." Hallie commented, suddenly storming out of the room. She lost today's battle. Barry knew how much of a sin adultery was, how much God and His mighty Church saw it in contempt. He however, albeit a man of strong belief and faith, knew deep down that he could not blame her. She was human. Unfortunately, it was knowledge too deep for him to have to dig out. "This is because of him." Barry thought bitterly, putting his palms together as if thinking up a sinister plan.
Hallie rubbed her temples with both hands as she leaned against a corridor wall, with a highly decorated mirror hung right in front of her on the opposite side. The wallpaper was light green, with Celtic designs of a deep emerald color covering most of it. This was a taste that her husband acquired after that night in Arklay Mansion, a sentiment that Hallie personally did not share. She knew what kind of a man her husband has become, no longer a kind anthropologist, but rather, a cold, calculating genius. He was a man of strong principles, borne from God and country, but that did not mean that he did not have any capacity to bend the law to get what he wanted.
This was not the life that she was used to. Long ago, she woke up with the feeling that she could accomplish anything as long as the sun rose or the wind blew. She had beautiful children, a respected husband, admittedly a life less ordinary than most people. Her husband fought for humanity, and in the time that he was infected by something incurable, in the time when he needed help the most, it was humanity that rejected him. They could only keep the abomination from taking form, but that did not mean it would just lay there dormant. It was very much alive, and it tore away at her husband's body and soul. "…" In some strange way, Hallie was still in love, but she also felt a deep surge of hatred, for her husband, and for herself.
Author's note: Okay, I thought about it, and I'm going to put a cameo of Jill and Chris in a future entry. I just hope I can pull it off. Well, I hope you enjoyed the second chapter, still pretty boring though, but hey, I'll probably put in some plot twist in the end to make this all somewhat worth it. Till next time.