Clarissa (italics means song quote, almost every time!)-

I pushed my way through the crowd expectantly, keeping my face calm. I was right on time, having skipped school for the momentous occasion.

It was Friday, anyway--who cared?

Well, where do we go?
(You will not know, you cannot know.)
So, where do we go?
(Where do we go?)
When you have to fight just to be alone?

I lost sight of the notion of walking calmly in a crowd when I reached the guitar solo of the song, and began exaggerating every step with a pronounced bounce and head-banging to the beat, making unconvincing, whiny guitar noises.

It was getting desperate. I felt my every nerve twitching, my voice rising. My throat was aching for use.

I couldn't do this.

I needed to sing along.

"SO, WHERE DO WE GOOO--

"WHERE DO WE GOO-OOOOOHH;

"YOU CANNOT KNOW, YOU WILL NOT KNOWWWW!

"OH, WHERE DO WE GOOOOOOOOOOOOH

"WHERE DO WE GO-HOOOOOHHH

"WHEN YOU HAVE TO FIGHT JUST TO BE ALONE;

"BEWNEWNEWNEWNEEEWWW, NEWNEWNEWNEWNEWWW, BEWNEWNEW, BEWNEWNEW--BADADADADA!" I exploded, my voice a high, annoying falsetto, singing every other not off-key and seven octaves too high, the gibberish noises being my cheap imitation of an electric guitar and drumbeat.

It wasn't that I couldn't sing--oh, on the contrary!--I could sing quite well. I just hated to. It lost feeling when you were boring like that.

I sighed, complete at last, the entirety of the mall looking my way now. I gave them an exaggerated, confident smirk, bowing and winking to the ones who continued looking at me, scorn obvious in their judgmental eyes.

Stupid humans. Didn't know bullocks about real enjoyment.
I glanced at my cellphone clock. My display of joy had taken about ten minutes off my time, hereby deeming me a 'late-for-an-important-date party-pooper.'

Eh.

Whatever.
It doesn't matter.
Oh, well.
We're goin' at it tonight, tonight! there's a part on the rooftop, top-of-the-world!

I caught sight of a boy in a thick, black hoodie, my age, surely, running directly into, another, rather stern-looking man--in his twenties, I'd say.

As the boy took a stare down, I took a moment to see their cellphone charms.

There were my people.

I put on another smirk, walking casually toward them as the older man began to laugh and struck up a conversation as the kid, begrudgingly awkward.

I tried to look distracted as I purposely bumped into the boy. He let out a startled noise and jumped back, looking ready to apologize, but I kept moving forward, coming close to bumping into him again. This time he sidestepped, and now I changed directions, running into him for a second time.

He now looked exasperated, as if he was near snapping.

"What do you want?" He managed out, looking me over, as though he was trying to decide whether to punch me or let it go.

I greeted him with a comically exaggerated frown, furrowing my eyebrows and inching closer to him--I was a good bit taller than him--and looking down angrily.

I beat my chest with a fist hand, landing over my heart as I stepped back, getting onto one knee as I began, "And I, eee-IIIIIIIIIII have always loved YOU-OUUU!" He seemed taken aback by my blasted, overly-feminine voice, and it's large contrast to my lank, indifferent body. I cursed silently. Looks like I'd almost had him fooled, Jimmy; someday, you might just have to deal with me stealing your thunder.

'Cos I am the maggot's muscle,
Magnet's missal,
Your mother's piss holelolwhut:
Magnifishit.
Master of it all.
Oh, yeah.

...Or, the stranger may have been shocked I'd chosen now to proclaim my undying love for him.

Eh. Who knew?

I jumped up, taking advantage of his current shock and snaking an arm around his waist with one arm, grabbing his hand with the other and twirling him around joyously, as though we were practiced Salsa Dancers, performing publicly as some sort of planned stunt.

We even elicited some applause as he shot me glances of 'let me go' and 'I don't want to be doing this'.

I finished our less-than-consensual dance by dipping him down towards the floor dramatically, and whipping him back up quickly enough to give him whiplash. I then released him, turning to the other man, grinning.

"So!" I started, extending a hand, which he shook immediately, as though my act had been completely average, "Who're you, emo kid? A good bit of black, I see that you're wearing." I smirked, leaning back on my heels, "No, no, lemme guess! You are...Wonderland Detective? No? Sorry, you seem like the ostentatious book-reference guy. Hm...That Kid oh-nine seems far too vague for you...You look like the dramatic type! You're derp-Lounger-must-starvin-oh-one or something, amiright?" I looked at him expectantly, eyebrows raised.

A different voice entirely answered before he could.

"Vhat ahre you saying, you useless, androgynous tvit? Der Lünger muss sterben, zero-one, I'm sure you meant." A snarling voice strung out on undiluted ego replied to me quaintly.

I recognized the voice.

And I nearly squealed with excitement.

I whirled around on my heels, throwing up my hands excitedly, "Hey, Fish-Boy!" Where is your engagement ring? Did it mean anything? Does a boy with a ring? Or will you bounce, bounce, bounce around?

The tall, thin boy regarded me with the utmost contempt, "Hello, Stupid." He mimicked my greeting with his pompous spin on the matter. He was dressed in a surprisingly modern manner compared to the suits he usually wore--a well-fitting blue shirt and black, thin slacks. His shoes were still boring and style-less--leather, pointy-toed! Was he gay or European?--but I liked it. His hair was atrocious still, as it had been yesterday: a bowl cut! Ugh! I'd offered to spike it, but never had he been interested. He glared at my once-over, looking ready to punch me in the face.

I didn't care.

I ran over, draping myself over his shoulders and pressing a hand on his chest emotionally, "Fynnie, doll face, how ya been? Shouldn't you be in school, angry eyes?" He was the senior to my freshman rank, the straw to my berry, the smoke to my high; we had gone to the same school since I'd began my high school career. He'd immediately found his favorite enemy, and I'd discovered my most hated friend.

"Eat rocks, you vile sing." I smirked at his inability to pronounce "th". He stepped easily out of my vice-grip. I let him go, knowing well I'd have plenty of time for badgering later, "I fear I'm not interested in men." he scoffed, "Had I known you vere coming, I'd 'ave never come at all."

I grinned, a strange pride swelling in my chest at the mention of my self-imposed androgyny, "Yeah? Well, that's not so bad, 'cos I just can't date a dude with a vag. Such a shame! And, before you get into a pity-party stupor about your own arrival, take a moment to say as many 'W' words as you can, babe, it's hilarious."

He looked at me like I'd sodomized his mother and had the nerve to brag to him about it.

But, Sunshine,
There ain't a thing that you can do that's gonna ruin my night.

"Izzat a 'no', Mister Lünger?" I pouted, but then gave him a grin, "Fair enough, baby-doll, I'll get back to you on that." I turned back to the forgotten older man and his companion, who was looking at me as if I was the boogey man, "Anyway, back to my conversation with you two beautiful women!" I winked at them, "People are strange when you're a stranger--what are your names?"

"Kazuko." The elder of the two flashed his phone at me, where I could make out the words 'Mentire_Libellula'. This time he extended his hand.

"Clara Urine, MSI, PTV three-two-four--nice meetin' ya, Kazu-zu." I replied, shaking it enthusiastically. I turned to my beloved dance partner, "Hello, I love you, won't you tell me your name?" I bowed to him.

He was looking rather terrified, which I found odd. Fynnie was way scarier than I was. Hell, Kazu-coco-bean was scarier looking, too! But the kid looked like he'd choose them over me in'na heartbeat. It was 'cos I'm black, I assured myself, confidently being the whitest kid in the room. He started to stammer, "Th-That Kid...uhm...o-oh nine..." and then, even quieter, if you can imagine, "...My name is Bastion..."

I started at him for a good, long minute, making him squirm...

"Right-O!" I exclaimed out-of-the-blue, ruffling Bassy's hair. "Good seein' ya, Kid!"

I grinned, getting onto my tip-toes and looking around, "So, are any girls gonna show, or is this a sausage-fest?"

"Hermaphrodites shouldn't use such foul language, Marsh." Fynn-i-ly-do-da's voice cut through the silence and I smiled at the slur.

"Prudes shouldn't have scrotum enough to notice, sweetheart." I winked as he scowled in utter disgust.

"Yust be glad I 'ave better sings to be doing san arguing vith some confused shild." He crossed his arms looking out to the crowd, his lame, dark hair rustling as people pushed past him. "Regardless, sere are some females." He quipped shortly.

And, sure enough, along came an adorable girl with shimmering brown hair--couldn't be three years my elder, probably less, accompanied by an older girl, in her early twenties, I'd guess, with hair equally brown as the last girl, but a wee bit shorter.

I couldn't stand the utter politeness of their arrival, so I gave out a short wolf whistle, winking mischievously, but pointing at Fynnie-dear when the younger one gave us a harsh look.

This was gonna be good.

--
LODLELJKSDH
:D
YEY.

Life: 09/11/11 | Posted By: ChiyukiChan | 3 comments | Tags: rabbit doubt