On the corner of a quiet neighborhood, looms an old big house. In its corridors, three young boys play. Conversing about secrets and other things that only they knew in their small group. One of the boys, who's well dressed with medium-length black hair, offers a smile that hints at something more behind it, before he leaves. The other two boys wait, but when he doesn't return they look at one another, then follow after him. They search throughout the house for him, but find no trace. A sound draws their attention. A loud thud from outside. Curious, the two boys head towards it, coming to a stop in front of a pair of dark wooden doors. They look at each other once more, hesitant, before opening the doors together to find the answer. Light floods into their eyes, growing brighter as a laugh echoes out in the distance. Soon, nothing but the bright light consumes the two boys in their entirety.
...
A pair of eyebrows knit together, in some discomfort to sunlight greeting a pair of dark green eyes as they open from sleep. There's a tired groan, before they're moved away with the turn of a head.
Rolling over to the side, one, Craig Tucker, slowly sits up.
He pauses for a moment, the remnants of the dream he had lingering in his mind, before he glances over at the time. The dream quickly leaves his thoughts when seeing it and he gets up, heading directly to the bathroom and then downstairs once done. He's met with the familiar sight of his father sitting on the couch, coffee in hand, while his mother busies herself in the kitchen cooking.
"Mornin'" his father says, as Craig passes by the couch.
"Mornin'" Craig returns.
"Oh, you're up early today," his mother says, taking note of him as he enters the kitchen.
"Mornin'," Craig offers, with the same greeting as his father.
"Glad I didn't have to wake you up as usual today," she says, turning her attention back to cooking. Craig gives a small grunt in response as he makes his way over to the fridge.
"We have any juice?" he asks, opening it.
"We should," his mother says, "although you should be able to see if there is any, since you are looking in the fridge."
"Found some," Craig says, when spotting orange juice and taking it out.
He pours himself a glass and a short while later his mother finishes cooking, he grabs some of the served food and takes a seat at the dining room table. A short while later, his sister joins the rest of the family downstairs, also grabbing a plate of food.
"Oh, it lives," Craig says, then snickers a bit when taking in the sight of his younger sibling's very disheveled morning hair. "Nice hair."
"Shut up," his sister deadpans with a glare and raised middle finger.
Craig returns the all to common household gesture and the two fall into silence as they eat. Once Craig finishes eating, he heads back upstairs to get ready for the day.
When gets back to his room, there's a buzz from the corner of it on his dresser. He walks over to it and picks up his cellphone. He gives a quick text reply to the message he got and heads off to the bathroom once again to get changed.
Once finished, he readies his backpack. Making sure to check it over once more for everything he needs, before heading off for the school day.
He makes his way to school by foot, alone, as he and his sister usually prefered to take their own routes and times to get to their shared high school. The chilly winter air of January nips at his nose. Despite the sun being out, the air still stung his lungs. He huddles in on himself and buries his face more into the collar of his jacket in order to keep warm. He keeps his hands in his pockets, not wanting to take them out from the small ball of warmth they had managed to build up. God how he wished he had enough money to afford a car for his license, but for now, he'd have to make do with walking. He lets out a mutter of some sort to himself when a gust of cold wind passes through him and picks up his pace.
About 20 minutes later, he arrives at school and welcomes its warmth with a deep inhale of it filling his lungs. He puts his bag away in his locker, grabs what he needs and heads off. On the way to first period, he meets up with a few friends, they talk for a bit before the bell rings and they all head off to their morning classes.
When lunch rolls around he meets up with them again at one of the tables.
"I know that people always say this, but like… do you guys really think this meatloaf is really made out of meat?" one of Craig's friends, Clyde, asks.
"I'm sure it's made out of some type of meat," another friend, Token, replies.
"Oh, that's reassuring," Clyde says, sarcastically.
"Or it could just be some healthy alternative they substituted for it," Token shrugs.
As Clyde continues to poke at his food and monologue about it, Craig scans the lunchroom. His eyes land onto the color orange in the sea of people and stay on it. There's a small flash of blond as wild hair strands poke out from under an orange hood. The figure in it seems upbeat as they talk with others at their table. There's a distant feeling that pulls in Craig as he watches them, before another shorter figure joins the orange clad one and Craig has to look away.
He's pulled back into his friends' conversation, as they direct a question at him.
"Hey, isn't that Tweek over there?" Clyde asks, nodding his head in the direction of his question.
"Oh yeah, it is," Token says, "he's with… Kevin?"
"Yeah, when did that happen?" Clyde asks, "You think they're just friends?"
The two look at Craig then.
"What?" he asks.
"It's just… if you don't feel comfortable being around, or seeing him, we could move somewhere else?" Clyde suggests.
"I'm fine," Craig replies.
"You sure?" Token asks.
"Yeah," Craig tells them.
"If you say so…" Clyde says, then looks back at where Tweek is, "it seems like he moved on pretty quick though, don't you think?"
"It doesn't matter, he's free to do whatever he wants," Craig replies.
His disinterested tone seems to cause his friends to exchange looks with one another for a brief moment, which doesn't go unnoticed by him.
"What?" he asks again, this time more deadpanned.
"It's nothing really," Clyde starts, "just that, you seem… I don't know, like you don't really care all that much that someone you've been dating for like a year now, has moved on so quickly to someone else?"
"Oh," is all Craig responds with.
"You sure you're okay dude?" Clyde asks.
"Yes, I'm sure," Craig says, his gaze starting to wander off elsewhere.
"Well, me and Token may not know what happened between you guys that caused you to split up, but as long as you're doing alright, then that's all that matters to us," Clyde tells him.
Craig hums in response as his eyes fallback onto the orange figure, again lingering on them. The feeling from before starts to surface, along with another that dances in his chest, before quickly being replaced with a sharp tinge as the orange figure shares a small kiss with the figure who had joined them from before.
Craig glances away again and goes about eating his food, telling his friends to not worry about relationships that have passed. His gaze does however fall onto Tweek and Kevin at least once more though. And while most would be sad of the failing of a relationship, that wasn't the case for Craig. Part of him was actually glad that Tweek found someone else to be with, it made him feel at least a little less guilty about their… Not so great breakup last month.
Lunch eventually comes to an end and the afternoon classes of the day proceed. Craig takes a seat in his English class. It was a class that he shared with the orange cladded figure from lunch, the one of which his gaze couldn't help but be drawn to for the majority of it. This time however, when he finds himself looking at them, his thoughts are drawn back to a distant memory, one that seemed so long ago yet not at the same time. Like a dream almost… There's a quick glimpse that comes to his mind from that morning, and he pauses when recalling it. While being caught up in it, he almost doesn't notice a pair of sky blue eyes now staring back at him. But the moment he does, he quickly looks away. There's a knot that forms in his stomach and doesn't go away, till he no longer feels the gaze on him anymore.
The end of the school day comes and he meets up with his friends. They agree to hangout for a while after school as they exit it, and while doing so, his eyes are again drawn to the orange figure, who was now walking hand-in-hand with the shorter figure from the lunchroom. His gaze watches them until they turn down a street, and he goes back to talking with his friends.
When he eventually makes it home some time later, he takes a shower, wanting to warm up from the cold. He goes about his nightly routine of T.V, games, homework and dinner, before going to sleep. His thoughts still dancing with the image of the orange figure from school, and the strange pull to want to be near them.