You're The Resason I Love Mondays by Lin B (short story to read TXT) 📖

Chapter 1

 

 

There it is. The brightest, livid smile my eyes have ever been blessed with it.. The shine it holds, the happiness – just the way I love it. The difference is just, this smile isn't for me anymore. Maybe I was just delusional, maybe it's never been for me, but do you know how much I hoped it to be? Every sleepless night, every heartbeat, every blush was your doing. You brought the colours to my horizon, never would have I thought that you'd be that one person. The person that turned to be the shimmer of light in my own darkness. 

 

YOU'RE THE REASON I LOVE MONDAYS

 

People say you're not mature enough to love when you're young, too naive to even know what love is. But what if I told you that's exactly what happened to me, would you believe me? I fell hard, breaking an arm, and maybe the heart, on the way. But what if I told you it was worth it, would you think I'm insane? Who thinks a heartbreak is a good thing anyway, right? Let me tell you something, there's no love without a heartbreak. Just as there's no life without death. Some things, even if those things are complete oxymorons, belong together – And some just don't, even if the universe is leading their paths to each other. 

 

1

 

It's weird. My friends smiles surround me, laughter filling my ears but I still feel lonely – somehow distant. I wonder when this started to happen.  It's like I don't belong here, like I'm just part of the audience, like I could just grab the remote and turn reality off whenever I want to. I don't belong. Those thoughts keep filling my mind as reality goes on – leaving my behind running, trying to catch up.

 

But maybe this is just a phase. Maybe this is a part of growing up? I'm still a kid after all, maybe this is what every 16-year-old experiences. But how can they smile so carefree then? There are some things I'll never get, and this is one of them. Those carefree smiles. Wil I be able to belong one day? To smile just like them. Or are those smiles nothing more than facades?

 

"Earth?" My friend pushes his fist against my shoulder, pulling me back into reality. "What do you think? You're in?" No idea about what he's talking about I raise my eyebrows, looking at the rest of my friends who're all staring at me with smirks painting their faces. "He has no idea what you're talking about, Jay. He was busy daydreaming as usual." My friends laugh in union, a slight smile making its way onto my lips. "Guilty." 

 

"Anyway. We talked about practice at my house every Monday until the event." 

 

"Monday?" I ask, supporting my head against my hands.

 

"Ya. We only have until 1 o'clock on Mondays, so after school we can go to my place and practice," My friend replies, the rest of my friends already talking about other things in the background. 

 

"What about my keyboard—"

 

"Oh, that's not a problem. You remember my uncle I told you about? The one who used to have a band? He's giving me his stuff including keyboard, drums, two guitars and a microphone, which means you guys don't have to carry your own stuff to my place. Perfect, right?" He asks proud, smirk widening on his face. 

 

I reply with a quick nod when one of my other friends start to talk. "The only problem is Earth, will your mom allow you to come?"

 

A frown appearing on my forehead, I remove my hands from my face. What is this about now? "Sure.. Why wouldn't she?"

 

"Well, If I have to remind you of last time when we were practicing-" 

 

"That was because I was bad at school. My grades are better now." 

 

I mean is this conversation even necessary right now when I already agreed? Why do they have to talk about that one incident almost every day? I get it, my mom was mad at me for constantly getting bad grades and didn't let me practice. It's not even that wild. It was my own fault, I should have been studying more for school and less concentrate on my keyboard. I mean all she wants is me being successful in the future. 

 

"You got a D in math." 

 

I sigh, picking up my backpack off the ground before swinging it onto my back. "I didn't say they're good. I said they're better." 

 

"Whatever, just don't cause any problems and do what your mom wants. The event is soon." 

 

Right. An amused chuckles leaves my lips as I stand up. Because you're so much better in school, Khai, I think but force myself not to open my mouth. "Anyway, I have to go home. See you on Monday." 

 

***

 

 

I wonder if it's just me, or if those responsibilities that are thrown at you at that age is supposed to be that stressful. As if school isn't one massive responsibility already, and I don't even mean the waking up part (even if that one sucks the most). No, I mean surviving each day without getting another mental breakdown. 

 

I remember how in middle school and the start of high school I used to eat by myself, no one really wanting to talk to that "girly boy" as they loved to call me. I never got it though, I mean maybe it is the fact that my skin is pretty fair and my facial features aren't as harsh as other boys, but I never saw what they meant by "girly boy". To me, I looked like a normal boy. There was and still is nothing girly about me. But what do you expect in an all-boys school? They have to find someone to make fun of, and I just happened to be that one. 

 

I endured it though, not because I was "scared" no because I simply didn't care and they realized it too until, one day, it started to get less and less. That's also when I decided to join that (lame ass) how I used to think about it, club. First, I was against joining any club activities, but my mom begged me to find a few friends. Meeting my expectations, it really turned up to be lame. But there were two good things about it. One, I could play keyboard whenever I wanted to, which I proudly was good at since youth, and the second thing, I actually met pretty cool people, the same people who are my closest friends now.

 

We quit the club right after and then opened our own club (with a lot of begging and Jay's excellent talent to cry on the spot, we successfully convinced the principal to allow us do the club) and the open or own school band. We're definitely not the best out there, just a bunch of kids who try to be alternative rock legends... well, unsuccessfully. 

 

Finally opening the door to our house, I kick my shoes in a corner and throw my backpack on the shoe cabinet before letting myself fall onto the couch. I have barely had school today, but I already feel drained – like the energy was sucked out of my body and it's getting worse with each following year. Isn't it supposed to get better? Am I not supposed to "adapt" as my mom used to say. 

 

"You're going to adapt once day, Earth. Just be strong for now and do your responsibility." 

 

All bullshit if you ask me. I'm 16-year-old for god's sake, am I not supposed to enjoy my childhood instead of fighting with anxiety? I sigh, closing my eyes. I wonder how it would be to be born wealthy, having no struggles when it comes to money, and the best part not having to care about grades. I mean rich people are born rich and die rich, no matter what they end up becoming. 

 

But then there's us. Struggling to save up to finally buy a new oven. But why am I complaining? There are people who have it way worse. 

 

"Chlorine" by Twenty One Pilots lingers in my ears as my eyes shot open. I sit up in annoyance, fishing my phone out of my back pocket. Khai.

 

I look at the screen for a pregnant silence. The music blasting through the living room. Just until my finger finally meets the accept button on my mobile phone. 

 

"What?" 

 

"Woah, easy tiger. You still angry about today? I didn't mean it like that-"

 

I lay down on the couch again, my hand going through my hazel brown hair. "No. I'm not angry. What's up? I kinda wanted to sleep." 

 

"Oh, sorry dude. But sleep? How old are you? 50? Get up dude, there's a party at my place today. That person is going to be there, you know." I roll my eyes, staring at the naked ceiling. 

 

"First of all, I don't like parties and second who the fuck is that person ?" 

 

"Well, first of all my friend, I don't care whether you like parties or not, you're still coming and second Aya aka the girl you were on a date a week ago."Oh. I complete erased that that actually happened out of my mind. I mean Aya is a pretty girl and first when she confessed I thought she's pretty enough to give it a try but the date was nothing more but awkward. Actually it was so awkward that at one point I faked a phone call to get out of there as fast as possible.

 

"That's a no from me." 

 

"Come on. Stop being a killjoy. You only live once, dude."

 

"Ya and I enjoy spending my valuable time sleeping. We all have different likes and dislikes I guess." 

 

"Whatever. We're at my place, if you decide to join your friends for once we'll be waiting," Khai says, emphasizing the word 'friends' before hanging up. 

 

Well, maybe I was a little bit too harsh, but I just despise parties. I don't even think that 'I belong' around my friends, then how I would I possibly feel in middle of such a crowd of people? And what's so exciting about parties anyway? You drink until passing out, sounds like fun. 

 

I pout, my eyes still focused on the naked ceiling. But I'm never joining them. I'm always finding excuses to no socialize, and that's not right. Not with my friends, at least. 

 

What if I sit down somewhere and just play games while their drinking their brains out, would be fine right? There's just one problem though. Aya. 

 

What do I do about her? I mean will I be able to avoid her presence there? 

 

Probably not. 

 

Exhaling deeply, I cover my eyes with my arm. Don't be a coward. Just be honest with her. I don't like you, Aya. I don't want to see you anymore. But what if she cries? Can I handle a girl crying just right in front of me? 

 

Well, I'll have to I guess. 

 

I grab my phone, my fingers dancing on the keyboards. 

 

To: Khai

See you guys tonight. 

 

***

 

 

When I agreed on coming, I didn't expect it to be this crowded. Groups of people are scattered everywhere, the smell of alcohol and sweat covering the air and empty bottles laid on the ground, on which a lot of people were tripping on, some even too drunk to get up. But that wasn't all, the obnoxious loud music (that I already expected) and the hotness of the room were other factors that just made me hate parties even more. It hasn't even been an hour since I arrived, how was I going to survive this? Maybe I made a mistake. 

 

Maybe I