Hey, a continuation! =D

DEC 15TH 2008

Acholate
Yellow. A day for making friends. Finally I’m both Amarisa’s and Nelenna’s friend now. Of course, it wasn’t me who made the first approach, and I take pride in myself for that.

So here was how it went, I was alone, as usual, and already it was time for that short break we usually have in turns. I never go for breaks, because I’d most probably be friendless, and I wouldn’t want to be seen eating by myself, because I have a feeling that I give this impression of how miserable I am, which I’m not.

During one of the breaks, Nelenna and Amarisa made their way to one of the fast-food chains I so hate. They’re everywhere, a mass epidemic of some sort. And the food is always so bland.

I saw Nelenna make her way towards me, smiling her usual smile – part friendliness, part uncertainty. I feel a sudden surge of protectiveness over her; realizing how naïve she really is inside. How immature.

“Hey Cola,” she said. In the distance I can see Amarisa eyeing the two of us with a somewhat curious expression. I was, however, more distracted by my newly-acquired nickname. Cola?

“Hi, uh, Lenny,” I replied, wondering; is that good enough of a nickname? Is that how they all make friends nowadays? What have I been missing all this while? Or is it just Nelenna, and her queer ways again?

Nelenna laughed, and the way she laughs makes it seem as if she’s just plain smiling, had it not been for the sounds that escape her throat, and the rocking back and forth motion she does with her body when the joke gets too funny to bear. “You never eat. Wanna come eat with us?”

I wasn’t that hungry, days of not eating during working hours is what my stomach is accustomed to now. And that fast-food joint doesn’t seem to appeal to me that much. Nelenna’s eyes, however, were pleading. I may have imagined it, though. What Nelenna doesn’t know is that she can be ever so persuasive, if she wants to be. She doesn’t even have to try. People just feel drawn towards pleasing her. A powerful attribute, if only she realizes. And clearly, she is unaware.

I nodded. Smiled. A series of mechanical reactions, programmed after years of social observation. I felt robotic, suddenly, being next to Nelenna, who seems fluid-like. Like a constant rush of cold water.

“Okay!” Nelenna smiled as she waited for me to clean up whatever mess I’ve left on the tabletop. We walked towards Amarisa. As we did, Nelenna asked, “So are we real friends now?”


Nelenna



Thane and I are closer now, I think. He doesn’t talk as much as the other guys do, and he never joins them whils they have their usual Sneaks – frequent occasions where the guys would steal some of the food we’re supposed to sell. He doesn’t joke around, participating only as the audience, though when he laughs he laughs the loudest.

Considering how he doesn’t talk as often as the others do, and how often he stops by my side to have a little chat, I guess we are closer now.

He doesn’t voice out his opinions; despite being full of them, as one would be able to tell, judging from his face. That’s what I love most about him – his face. He doesn’t realize just how transparent he is, and I am not about to be the one to inform him of that fact. Truth be told, I love how quickly his expressions change at the slightest alteration of mood. When he feels uneasy about certain situations (the best example being the boys’ sessions of Sneaks), he stares hard at some invisible speck on the floor, wringing his hands and swallowing a little more than the average person would. During times like these he can be caught off guard; I usually give him a little kick in the shin when he gets this way, to which he’d snap back to attention and say “Sorry, was just thinking.”

I love the fact that he gets so apologetic sometimes, even over things which can never be his fault. Like when I’d spill something because I was too busy talking to him, or replying his questions. My clumsiness is not something new, why ever should he feel guilty over things like that? He’d fluster then, helping me re-fill the paper cup or the popcorn box, all the while saying, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Hey let me do this for you. So sorry.”

I’d step back, watching him. “It wasn’t you. Quit apologizing.”

“Felt like it was my doing. Things are always my fault anyway,” he shrugs. He’d say this without the usual hints of a person feeling sorry for themselves – he lays it down, matter-of-factly, the way a person would inform someone of how the sky is blue, of how no one drinks saltwater.

Thane’s hair is a very dark brown, though sometimes we can see tinges of red and maroon. He keeps it short, minus the fringes, which covers a part of his left eye, and most of his right. It looks good on him, and I wonder is there any other guy who’d be able to pull this look off as well as he can? No.

I made a mental note to ask him someday about those long bangs. He’s a freak when it comes to cleanliness and order, and come to think of it, people with such a fetish should have their hair in a military crew cut; better yet, shaved bald. Why ever should he bother with those long strands anyway (ah, because it makes him look super melt-worthy).

Many times I’ve seen him brush those strands away while he was talking to me, brushing it to the right one moment, and to the left next. Another thing which I never seem to understand is that when he’s done talking to me he’d brush those strands back into place, once more a curtain to those grey-green eyes. Never have I seen him brush his fringes back when he’s talking to other people. It only happens when he talks to me. I’m not quite sure if I’ve imagined it all, with my current degree of interest in him, well I just might be doing so. And based on that logic I’ve so far managed to restrain myself from asking Amarisa whether Thane does that whole brush-hair-back thing when he talks to her, or to anyone else for that matter.

When our shift comes to an end, Thane would walk me to the bus stop, and girls would glance our way, with a look of contempt, and inexplicable wonder. What, an ugly girl like me can’t be walking by a guy like him?

Sometimes they’d eye him for so long I feel like nudging Thane and telling him to wave, smile their way or something. I don’t know… some reaction that’ll make the girls go feeling beautiful and important. As long as they’d leave. It doesn’t really matter if they’re staring at Thane (which they are), but the thing is, I usually get all conscious and feel as if they’re evaluating me, spotting out my flaws. Which I have plenty of.
























Amarisa

Acholate is now a regular friend of ours. Regular? Since when does that word go with friends, anyway? Friends are friends, regular or not. I must say, that she actually isn’t all that bad. She’s nice, even. Just a little too cautious over things, over people expecially. All she needs is a little letting loose. She’d so score in the guy department by then.

Geth’s been absent for three days now, and Ms. Derris shaked her head for the third time since his disappearance. “Good kid,” she’d say wistfully, and for a moment we’d all see a flicker of sympathy in her eyes. But by then she’d have turned back to her old, professional self. Her eyes regained her usual steely determination, and she pounded the countertop with her fist. “He pulls this off one more time, one more time’s all it takes. He may very well start looking for another job.”

Many were frantic to try and reach him. We know how he’s having hard time at home, he’s never actually said it, but we’ve pretty much guessed the outline of his life. He dodges certain questions really well; occasionally even going as far as dropping whatever he was holding (popcorn, Cheezels and M&M’s) just so we’d help him pick the things up and leave the curiousity aside.

Thane was the one who seemed most worried. During his free time he’d pace the floor, dialling Geth up repeatedly, until Nelenna would pass by him and say, “Give it a rest, will you? Try later, maybe. Help me with these,” and she’d fling him the packets of nuggets and hot dogs.

I know how she’s been creating extra work just so Thane would stop worrying. It’s not like Nelenna to be letting others do her job all the time, anyway. If anything, she hates it. But everyone here knows this act of Nelenna’s in trying to ease Thane’s worries. We do know, for a fact that it’s been three days in which our hot dogs and nuggets keep getting mass-produced.

What I've written so far. (Wait for more!)

DEC 5TH 2008

Acholate
Today’s a fluorescent orange. Vibrant energy, hyped motion. Excitement and anticipation.The bustle of it all leaves you tired, but ready for more.

I arrived late for work today. My first job, and already I’m late. But another boy came much later, and I guess that got me off the hook, and I’m happy and relieved, and still am, despite someone else being in trouble for it. Miss Derris was angry, and she isn’t one to hide her feelings. She shouted at him for a good half an hour or so, her tone rising as she went on. Standing close to her, I could smell her sweat evaporate, a sweet scent with a hint of muskiness in it, but generally it was pungent.

The boy, whose name is Jex, as I learnt later, is 16 years old. He stopped school when he was much younger, and he has seven siblings, and they all live with his aunt, who is a secretary. His uncle is unemployed, and does odd jobs when he feels like doing so, which isn’t often. He has two older brothers, one 18 and the other 19. They all started working when they were 16, and now here he is.

A concession counter isn’t a bad place to work at. You can be around people. I like that. Interacting, and the obligation of putting on a presentable front for the sake of others – that I enjoy. Sometimes I strike conversations with whomever I know, and test my reflexes in answering trick questions, and working my way round obscure topics. It’s a challenge I almost always win. Often I try to leave the other party speechless, and that I take as a sign of victory.

It’s not like what most think. Many think that I like to watch people. I don’t do that, I don’t watch people. I don’t stare, I don’t observe. Nelenna does that. She makes it obvious too, and I think she’s aware of that, but then again it seemed like one of those things a person can’t help but do, despite realizing she shouldn’t.

Nelenna has wide brown eyes that widen as the subject she stares at gets more interesting. She doesn’t put on a tough front like I do, and I don’t know if I admire her for that, or perhaps envy her. She’s vulnerable, vulnerable, vulnerable. Weak. On second thought I like being the way I am. I find it crucial to leave a mark on people. First impressions are everything.

The only problem being, that once you’ve made an impression on someone, you’ve committed yourself to acting that way around that person. It’s a cycle, because once you’ve appeared perfect in front of someone, the general public would expect you to be that way too.

I got back home tired. When my mom came to pick me up I snapped at her over something, and she raised her eyebrows, and I knew then to not push her limits. But I was tired, and like her, I too have my borders. I’m wondering now on whether I should be feeling sorry for her and regret what I’ve done, or were my actions justified because I was exhausted?
Sometimes I wish I am able to feel something without ever contemplating and weighing out the options. In the end my choice would usually be the pick in which others would perceive as the right thing to do. I have an invisible jury in my head, and I listen to them.

It’s hard, it’s hard, it’s hard.

But tomorrow, like today, and all the days before, they’ll see me as the person I want them to take me as: the confident, positive, optimistic Acholate.

Should I add manipulative?





Nelenna
Hansons - MmmBop.
One of those days when things seemed to go right, if you would only let them run their course and not worry that much over the turnout. Despite my reluctance in getting a job, work was pure fun today, and I’m excited for tomorrow.

I miss school. Nowadays it’s all so boring. But working put a stop to that, and hopefully will continue doing so.

The environment there was electric, it’s almost as if you were able to feel everyone’s force, and there were so many things to learn and absorb, I hadn’t the chance to observe the customers the way I thought I would’ve done so. But I had my fill of watching today, because my workmates are interesting people. My eyes are sore from watching, unblinking, and my brain is drained from interpreting everything that I’ve seen.

It’s a hobby, or rather, a habit. Calling it a hobby gives me the sense that I’m able to control that thing I do, and clearly that isn’t the case. I try to see through everyone I encounter, and in my head I make up a story about them, a background, and I guess at their personality. The thing I like best, however, is conjuring up their quirks. It makes me feel better to think that I’m not the only one I find weird.

Learnt the names of my workmates – there’s Thane, Geth, Miss Derris, Acholate, Fydar, Amarisa and Zeke. Miss Derris, the most senior among us, is the supervisor, and not many seems to like her, but I tolerate her fine. Maybe it’s the other way round, with her being the one superior to me.

Hearing the name Thane, immediately I imagined a child with a lisp saying “He ith inthane.”

My first day in a working environment went well enough to keep me going back tomorrow. We’re friends, but not quite yet. We help each other out whenever we can, and the old workers are kind to cover our mistakes when Miss Derris is around. Common words of exchange so far are ‘hello’, ‘thanks’, ‘oh, that’s so nice of you’ and ‘see you tomorrow’.

I have the tendency to drift into a song once I get the feeling that no one’s watching me. I hum, and as I get more comfortable words will form, and I like the feeling of letting the notes soar, allowing the tune to flow as freely as it can.

It was still early, and everyone was at the back frying the hot dogs and burgers and fries. Feeling unnoticed, I dared myself to go to the front counter to give myself a rest and allow me some space. I needed to compose myself. Being around to many people, particularly those I’m not quite familiar with, leaves me drained and unsure.

I trailed my finger on the countertop, liking the smooth feel. If I press harder it would’ve made a squeak, just how clean it was. A song surfaced and I sang softly. Offspring’s Pretty Fly.

Thane had followed me, it turns out, and he continued the song.

Me : Give it to me, baby. Aha, aha. Give it to me, baby.
Thane : Aha, aha.

I stopped abruptly, and he did too.

“Go on,” he said, and smiled. He left me there and went back to where he came from.

I’ve lost my mood, and in my head I reckoned that it’d be long before I’d ever be able think about that song again, much less sing it.

I stared at his back as he disappeared into the kitchen. His walk was such that he made it seem as if he’s floating, and he bounces slightly, and I made a mental note of making his walk the way I walk, listing it under my ‘Top To-do’s’. Sometimes I trudge, and sometimes I sway my hips a little more than necessary, and I’ve decided that I’d like to walk like he does.

I hate what he did, but in a funny way, liked him for it. Throughout the whole day I had to tell myself to not look at him, and it failed miserably as the day went on. I can’t say for sure if he was following me around, but I keep having to go some other place because I find him just too close. I wouldn’t have minded in the least, because he’s one of the closest I have to a real friend there, the other one being Amarisa, but when he was next to me I had somersaults in my stomach, and the pain, along with the burn of melting inside, was just too much to bear.

I didn’t sing anymore after that. We’ll see what happens tomorrow.

About Amarisa, whom I clicked off with almost immediately. Before this I never would’ve thought that I’d befriend somebody who looks like her, or even come close to looking like her. In the sick way people with low-self esteem always think, I usually tend to leave her kind aside, and mingle around peers of an average score when it comes to the looks department. She’s among those rare ones who does not seem to realise just how pretty she is, and she doesn’t complain about her looks just to gain praises either.

I like her, I like her! In a somewhat obsessive fashion, which disturbs me too. But I find her fascinating, and when I was around her today I kept wondering if my admiration shows through. That’s exactly what it is – admiration. And often I felt as if I’m able to turn to her, if I stare long enough, if only I can capture the right essence of what makes her the beauty she is.

Today we talked about our life, mostly. She’s raised by a single parent, her father, and we laugh together as she told me about certain matters that make her wish she has a mom. Period, for example, and the need for a new bra or something. She was nonchalant about it, and the conversation wasn’t strained, and we had so much to discuss about we’ve gotten lazy for work already, and it’s only the first day.

Despite what had happened, Pretty Fly is stuck in my head more than ever now.





Amarisa

Nelenna’s my new friend, and it was an instant bond. Besides her and me myself, there’s only one other girl, Acholate, and Miss Derris doesn’t count. I find Acholate a little too huffy for my liking, and she’s one of those girls who’d try and pick a fight with you just because you’re watching her. At least that’s what I assumed.

I told Nelenna so, and she smiled, a little unsure, and said, “How would you know? You don’t know her yet,” and laughed, as if not doing so would cause me to be offended with what she had stated.

“That’s what I mean. Had she been of the friendlier kind we would’ve been friends by now, wouldn’t we have?”

“She’s just shy. I’ve talked to her a little just now. I like her voice, like rising steam, it just dissipates into the air, her tone is just so… breathy. She’s okay.”

“Stop playing nice, Lenna. Have you seen the way she glares at people?”

“Maybe you were staring. But no, I didn’t notice her glares.”

I gave the wrong amount of change to customers, thrice today. Miss Derris seemed to be nearby each time it happened, and clucked her tongue. Nelenna gets flustered just as easily as I do, but when it comes to calculations, rests assured she’ll get it right. But she seems to slip or fall every now and then. And she has the tendency to knock things over, and many times today the things she held just slipped right out of her grip and it spills. Everytime.

This one guy, Thane. He keeps cleaning up for her. Nelenna offered her smile every time it happened, but didn’t express her gratitude, which I find weird, because she says thanks for almost everything.

Is that rude? Or as Nelenna had said, just a case of shyness?

Other than that, we got along with Jex, who’s a year younger than us, but his maturity surpasses ours by miles.

It embarasses me, but it seemed to amuse Nelenna. My embarassment seemed to bring about the same effect too. Nelenna is a little off. But I have the impression that had anyone bothered to explore the depths of my thinking they would’ve discovered that I’m crazier than anyone would’ve ever thought.

It’s just that Nelenna chooses to show it.






DEC 9TH 2008

Acholate
Today’s white with tinges of green. It’s white because everybody at work today was intent on getting things right, and never before have I seen such work ethics, at a concession stand too, of all places. It’s a little green because the only lazy ones were Nelenna and Amarisa. Maybe they weren’t exactly slacking off. It just seemed as if they get along so well, and I, meanwhile, am still practically friendless there.

There’s a new movie released today, and I’ve read the book-version of it. How many of them had actually read the book? How many of them will, after watching?

Nelenna was preparing the fries this morning, looking absorbed in her work. Each time the fries sizzled she smiled to herself, and in the dim morning light, because the stores aren’t fully opened yet, she looked scary.

Thane was working nearby her, popping the popcorn. Every now and then he’d ask her, “You okay?” and offer some help, to which she would always decline, “I’m coping.”

I sidled close to her. Made an effort to break my silence all this while, braced myself for the response. I’ve never been the one to strike a conversation, at least not here. “Look outside. People are queueing for the Dream Crossers tickets already. It’s crazy, but if I’m not supposed to be here I would’ve been among them.”

Nelenna didn’t look up. “You've read the book?"

“Loved it. Have you?”

“No. Probably won’t ever.”

“Oh. But it’s a good book, you know.”

“I know. But it’s getting a little too popular for me now. Besides, the books I read are different.”

“Oh.”





Nelenna
Tokio Hotel – Lieb Die Sekunde
It’s as if Bill’s telling me that it’s all about now. Now. Now.

I don’t know if I like Thane. I’d like to confidently say that I don’t. But nowadays I’m never too sure about things. I miss my old certainty, when everything had once been expressed with full conviction.

Miss Derris was in a good mood today, and I marveled at the transition a person could create just by being a notch happier. Her cheerfulness today showed, with the flush in her cheeks and the sparkle in her eyes.

Miss Derris is not ugly – despite spiteful comments behind her back on how her eyes are too close together, her lips too thin and her jawlines too strong, making her look like a carnivorous bird. I’ve come to appreciate those piercing eyes, realizing that what may come off as disconcerting to someone may be completely attractive for another.

Her contentment shone all day long.

Figures. She received her long-awaited (at least that’s what I assume) proposal from her long-term steady boyfriend. Repeated sightings include times when he drops her off, and times when he fetches her from here. He’s okay-looking. His platinum-blonde spikes a little too light for my preference, but as with Miss Derris’s eyes, there’s no accounting to taste.

Today Geth was having some problems, nobody knows what exactly. He kept punching the walls, and later on the tiny stand we have inside the cinema hallway – a minor extension of the concession counter outside. The flimsy build collapsed, and for a moment he looked shocked. I was the only one with him at that time, and I was so scared. As if at any moment I might be the only target left for him. I chewed the insides of my cheeks the way I always do during times of distress.

His knuckles were bleeding badly, and I winced; having always had a problem with the sight of flowing red liquid. I sat, stunned, too scared to make a move. Watched him shudder and shake, and I wondered if it came from the anger and frustration, or the physical pain he’s experiencing. His eyebrows furrowed together, and he threw a wounded look at me, and I realized right there and then that there was nothing to fear. People, when hurt, lash out in different ways. The most passive among us would have slept; the most aggressive would’ve hurt someone. This leaves the confused and misunderstood – and this kind are usually those who end up hurting themselves. Never another living being.

“Geth?” I said tentatively. Like a wild stray he might open himself up, only to retract when given the wrong approach. “Go wash your hand. People will ask if they see that mess.”

I tried to set the stands upright again. Failed. He came over and helped, but his chest still heaved from the earlier breakout.

“Geth, go.”

He went. “Just don’t tell. Don’t say anything.”

“I won’t.”

Right now it is Geth that I keep thinking about. But trying to help usually does the exact opposite.

It’s easier to get a tortoise out of its shell by waiting, instead of coaxing. I said so to my mom today, in a mood of utter randomness. She nodded, then almost sadly, said, “It’s a pity that not many know so.”





Amarisa

Nelenna is one dreamy person. She spaces out at irregular intervals, and sometimes she experiences one of those silent spells she usually has. I don’t mind that. It feels good not to have to think of what to say all the time.

We worked side by side today, and sometimes bumped into each other on purpose, often causing the drinks in hand to spill. We’d laugh and shove one another some more, and more than once I caught Acholate frowning in our direction, and then I’d whisper to Nelenna to tone it down a little.

The guys tolerated our play, they laughed along and sometimes pushed and shoved too, sometimes going overboard. Geth wasn’t quite himself today though. Thane seemed to enjoy watching us laugh together. He’d stare at Nelenna in this sad way that makes me want to go to him and ask “What’s your problem?” though of course, not in an unkind fashion. It’s merely a curiousity of mine, that he takes more than a passing interest in Nelenna, who I admit is one attractive girl, but still. He doesn’t treat her the way a guy would when they like someone.

It’s something deeper than that.

Nelenna has a deep crush on him, I can tell, although she has never really said it out loud. I just know; from the way she tries hard to dig out bits and pieces about him from our daily conversation, from the immediate high she gets when he smiles at her or defends her over something she clearly had done wrong.

I daren’t tell her that I don’t think it’s wise for her to be going through this downward spiral for him. That it might not be what she thinks. That perhaps Thane don’t share the same feelings as she does for him. I brush these notions off, telling myself that I’m jealous.

Thane is awfully shy with me. I’d say hi and he’d give a reproachful smile, then say “Hi yourself.”

I’d grin back, amused at his bashfulness, and then we’d shuffle off to opposite directions. It’s awkward, trying to talk to him. His shyness makes me all the more conscious.

I try hard not to like him, not to fall for him, because he’s Nelenna’s. Not mine. Nelenna likes him more than I do. He’s not mine. And sometimes I’d catch myself melting, melting, melting after a brief exchange of words with him, or after he reminds me to do something I’ve long forgotten. But then Nelenna would pass by, and the deep guilt drives most of that previous euphoria away. Most of it.

While hints of it still remain, making me eager to return for work the next day, and the day after that. Just to catch sight of him.
Most of the guys here seem to have taken a liking for Acholate. They like her, some yearn for her, but none of them would admit that she intimidates them to such an extent they daren’t make a first move.

Acholate’s the most attractive among us here. She has her hair dyed with streaks of strawberry blonde, and it is apparent, given her jet black hair as a background. She wears a little too much make-up, and Nelenna tells me that she sometimes imagines that should Acholate knock her head or something, the porcelain-smooth layer would crack, her face stripped bare.

A mask.

Acholate’s choice of eyeshadow colour would match her array of accessories for that particular day. I like her in blue because then she looks like the Ice Queen, pretty yet unapproachable, which is the way she is naturally.

Both Thane and Jex overheard that little piece I said regarding Acholate, and now, behind Acholate’s back, guys call her by the name ‘The Hot Ice Queen’.

Nelenna likes her when her accessories are pink, or yellow. Says those colours soften Acholate’s strong features, showing us really that inside she is not as tough as she looks. But Nelenna says that Acholate actually looks best in green, and Nelenna says that hurts because it’s her favourite colour, and she can never look as good as Acholate can in it. “I look like a freaking vegetable.”

Nelenna doesn’t swear, but she adds the words ‘freaking’ or ‘super’ every now and then. I’ve come to learn that ‘freaking’ indicate high degrees of extremity, while ‘super’ is an indicator of absolute admiration, awe, or both.