Ethan entered their usual place called the City Cottage, feeling ten times wetter the moment he stepped inside. He swept away his drenched brown locks from his eyes and took in the room’s dusk green walls with a bit of a sigh. For just as he came in he noticed that another painting had been added to the already crowded backdrop. A smile emerged on his lips even though the café was starting to feel rather stuffy. For he couldn’t help but admire the old man’s fondness for their city. It hung like a warm chain of memories on the café walls, ready for anyone to come and adopt them.
The café owner’s photos and paintings inspired Ethan greatly. They were anything but perfect. Different, would be the right word to use. They seemed to capture a different perspective of the city they all went around and thought they knew. One out of many. And that was in Ethan's eyes a great accomplishment.
Ethan ventured further inside till he spotted his friend. He was a tad surprised to see them already seated by themselves in one of the café’s comfiest nooks, lid by living lights and a multi-colored window. Said friend didn’t take long to feel his approach. They whipped around before he could tap them on their shoulder, and flashed him a nervous grin. A grin that, under his gaze, blossomed into a teasing smile.
“Got caught by the rain, eh?” she teased the somewhat half-drowned boy. Ethan repaid her smirk with a wry one, then tore off his clammy grey coat.
Once free from its disgusting embrace, he huffed, “Yeah. But somehow you didn’t? How come you managed to escape the great monsoon outside? It’s really rare for you to arrive early... Did you by any chance stumble upon a rabbit's foot or something? To gain some luck, you lucky rat!”
His friend’s warm expression paled as she readjusted her rose gold glasses, framed by thick and bobbed blond hair. It was a mystery indeed, why she hadn’t arrived late this time…
Oblivious to the unusual, Ethan hurled himself back and watched as his friend ordered them a couple of hot beverages. Whilst speaking to the waiter a visible glint of anticipation took hold in her hazel eyes. A couple of seconds later, unreadable scribbles were made and the waiter left. Leaving her glinting eyes nowhere to go besides Ethan’s face. And there they continued to stay, all expectant and hopeful looking.
The one her gaze was so fixated on took to rummaging through his backpack as a means of busying himself. From its rugged depths Ethan heaved up a well-worn book, and with a *SLAM!* he brutally revealed it on their table’s face. The cover that made them both dread its coming, screamed amatour with its thick squiggly font and oversaturated pictures. The font was in fact so obnoxiously loud that it compelled the passing waiters to read it and wonder what a book called: Tales of a Divine Warrior, could possibly be about?
Upon seeing again this very familiar cover the girl grimaced and tucked away her fingers in shame. But Ethan was way too absorbed in the book to realize this. He merely held his gaze on the greasy table as he waited for the other person’s next move. He waited, and waited, then… Since things weren’t coming along, he looked up and asked the girl, “Maya, where’s yours?” Only to receive dead silence as his answer.
Smooth notes of jazz tried to fill this void, but it couldn’t sooth Ethan’s growing impatience. He ended up staring down at the poor girl: Hard! And as he had expected, she was about to crack from his pressure, but luckily for her, their waiter managed to return just in the nick of time to serve as a perfectly legit distraction for her. She was handed her extra large cup of cappuccino and with that, she was also handed the opportunity to smalltalk her problems away. By taking her sweet-ass time praising the waiter as she continuously ignored Ethan’s presence.
For being so rudely ignored, Ethan decided to gloss over the subject and set it aside for later. Besides, he had other things to do, such as receiving his own cup of freshly-brewed coffee.
Once his fingers had soaked up most of the hot liquid's warmth, he initiated their chat by going, “So… I’ve read it... And, I must say, I did find the bonding mechanic in the story quite fascinating. You know, they could bond with dra-... Uh, no, genosaurs?… But the main gist of the plot was just too cliché for my taste... I mean, we have a hero and a villain fighting each other to death, purely because one is considered good and the other evil... As for the hero’s adventure? I did find it entertaining to some degree. Alas, it couldn’t hide the fact that the story’s main villain was so one-dimensional, it made me want to buy 3D-glasses just to give the pages he was mentioned on some of that extra dimension! He had close to zero backstory nor any legit beef to be had with the MC. And god forbid that the reader might grow sympathetic towards the villain? That’s why we’ll make sure to sprinkle it in there that he murdered his whole family right before joining the dark side! I mean, come on? What kind of middle-schooler wrote this!?”
As Ethan rambled on, his friend Maya, took a few extra sips of her steaming cappuccino. Ethan thought that he could leisurely wet his throat as well. So without much thought he took a passionate gulp of his own drink. Unfortunately for him it wasn’t a rewarding experience. The instant he let his fancy mud-water surge in, he scalded his tongue a blistering red. The fierce surprise withheld Ethan from ranting on for a couple of minutes. It became an unexpected breather for the both of them. As he let his tongue cool off, he had wanted for Maya to hop aboard the critique-train. But this, she never did. Instead she kept her silence behind a locked pink smile and a pair of taut shoulders as she waited for the rest of Ethan’s scathing review.
Oblivious to the public, Ethan took a napkin and tried to clumsily lick off his burn, sadly, this didn't alleviate the pain he was experiencing the slightest. Within due time he stopped his pointless pursuit for happiness to resume his chatter. “And what’s up with the rip-off vampires in this story!? Hah! As if those in the evil spectrum couldn’t get evil enough? It’s madness, I tell you! Madness!” Ethan hid his crumbled napkin away, then added, “There’s something else that I don’t get. And that is, why is the MC deprived of a love-interest? I mean… You’d think he was a monk or something the way he keeps his junk in his pants. But then again… Who’d date the girls in his universe? They’re as whiny as they come, aren’t they?”
Maya’s exasperated lips twitched and loosened up a couple of times before they could enunciate her thoughts properly. “That-!... What’s so whiny about them?... Isn’t it unfair that they aren’t allowed to bond with genosaurs? Especially when men are?”
Ethan lifted one of his damned well-sculpted eyebrows at Maya’s broken facade and admitted, “Yeah, sure. But is it really that great to bond with a genosaur?” Hearing this, Maya widened her eyes in a mix of disbelief and intrigue while Ethan elaborated on the matter. “We have both read the same novel, right? We both know what a huge gamble bonding truly is... So why should we feel sorry for those who are exempt from taking up such dangerous trials?”
Maya made an effort to push back her foggy glasses. She was frustrated, but still invested in their conversation. Ethan could comprehend her silence this time. Thus, he simply leaned back in his armchair, granting Maya all the time in the world she would need to craft a suitable comeback.
She kept sipping on her cappuccino till she ran out of air. Then she settled her cup determinedly and said, “It’s because those who bond are the ones’ in power! Which forces the women in the story to exchange their freedom for safety. All of it, in fact.”
Stolen story; please report.
Her friend accepted this concise piece of logic and nodded.
Briefly, there was harmony, till Ethan decided to wickedly say, “But, to be honest. If I was one of those women I wouldn’t bother with bonding at all. I’d gladly sit back and relax as my future husband got weeded out from the useless lot. I mean, he’d be strong and more than capable of taking care of me as long as I lived. By looking at things this way, the women in the story can live a luxurious, risk-free life compared to the men. And I’d consider it a win to be born a female.”
Maya hissed at Ethan, “Enough! It’s not that simple! Okay!?” Her temper turned vicious in a flash. Ethan clamped his mouth shut out of respect for the madness gleaming in her eyes. Whilst sitting before his now fuming friend, he grew utterly confused. Usually Maya wouldn’t be this hard to joke around with. But today she was somehow awfully different.
“Is anything wrong?” he dared ask.
Maya squirmed in her cushy seat. Her urge to leave was growing exponentially, yet she had to stand her ground now or never. “It’s just… Why can’t you say anything nice about the story?”
To this, Ethan blinked and honestly told her, “It’s because it’s fun to criticize things. Like, why would I bore you with the good stuff? The good is already great and it can’t be said much about. Now, when it comes to the bad stuff? Hoh, boy! That’s where the meat is!... Don’t you see?”
Maya shook her head in defeat. “I don’t get it… You didn’t like the story and so you bash it to smithereens? But did you know? Someone spent hours of their life on this book. And they even went so far as to share it with you. But you-”
Maya’s chair rumbled across the hardwood flooring, allowing her to escape the abuse. In the midst of leaving, she snatched her bag and said, “You know what, Ethan? Since you’re so knowledgeable and great at pointing out mistakes, why don’t you go ahead and fix my work!? I’m sure your rendition would be a masterpiece. Why don’t you give me a lesson, huh!? You soul grinding narcissist!"
Once done spewing her curse, Maya made an attempt to flee the City Cottage as discreetly as possible. The café’s guests, however, couldn’t help but notice the dissonance emanating from their table. Realising that he had unwittingly crushed Maya’s dream, Ethan planted his hand on the book’s ugly cover and whispered out a tired, “Fuck.”
Shortly after Maya’s departure, Ethan exited the café feeling defeated. His feet dragged him straight across to his mother’s apartment. A place he always had the keys to. He rustled up said bundle with ease, but before he twisted one of them into his mother’s scratched-up entrance, he found himself once again scrolling through his and Maya’s online chat. It didn’t come to him as a surprise that all of his apology-ridden messages had been ignored. He could hardly admit it, but it seemed it was too late for any take backs. It sure sucked...
Ethan kept his key nested inside the lock. but it never got to finish its job as his keen mother came hurtling through the door. “Hi honey!” she greeted him with an elated smile. Ethan ejected an *Umpfh!* as he got tackled by her in a smothering embrace.
He couldn’t accept this amount of raw affection, thus he sheepishly clapped his mother on the shoulder as if admitting defeat. While she slowly removed her hungry claws, Ethan lamented like a baby, “Mom! I'm 19 years old now. There’s no need to hug me like that in front of the whole neighborhood! Believe me, they already know that I’m yours. There’s no need to go around flexing, now is there?”
The woman clucked away like a hen as she helped her son remove his overly soaked jacket and scarf. “Nonsense! You’ll always be my child, even when you’re 50. Besides, those old hags need a bit of gossip to keep the day going, no? So, I say, why not let them?” Ethan eased up at his mother’s laughter, alas he couldn’t let his earlier blunder slip and become past.
His downtrodden mood soon caught his mother’s similarly grey eyes. She threw his dripping clothes in a corner and began interrogating. “What’s wrong, honey? Weren’t you supposed to have fun with Maya today? Then how come you’re home this early putting on such a sullen look?”
Ethan shrugged. “You know that book I’ve been reading recently? The one with that god-awful cover?”
His mother perked an eyebrow. Like mother, like son. “Why, yes? Who could forget such a thing?”
“Well...” Ethan drawled. “Turns out Maya was the one who wrote it. And I bet she must have felt pretty proud about it too, since she went ahead and got it published as a physical copy... If only I had known it earlier that she was the author. Then I swear, I wouldn’t have been so blunt with my review… And now? I’m doomed!”
Ethan’s mother looked him up and down before heading for the kitchen. Shortly after she called for him to follow along. The boy did as told and watched dazedly as she changed the old plant water from her bouquet of Anemones to something more fresh. It was a type of flower with petals as white as sclera, held in place by a pupil-like center. Ethan really despised this peeping flora, but who was he to rule against it? This wasn’t really his house. Not anymore.
As the last liters of putrid-smelling liquid splashed into the sink, his mother said, “You don’t have to apologize for what you did, Ethan. You know as well as I that criticism can be hard to swallow, because it demands change in the person taking it… Right now, Maya must feel put down and discouraged by what you said. Poor thing. I know how rude you can get, being your mother and all... She doesn’t deserve to be put down. And yet, I think it might be healthier for her to get some honest feedback from you, rather than a spoonful of empty praise... Alas, you can’t expect a rock not to crack, honey. Giving someone an overdose of negativity won’t help nobody. Especially not someone as sensitive as Maya. So, if anything, as a good friend, you should try and help her polish this story of hers, no? Of course, If she doesn’t want your advice then don’t let her have it. When the time comes it’ll be entirely her own fault if she misses out on improving her craft. Not yours. And that’s all I’ve got to say about it, really… Did I say too much, honey?”
Ethan erased her worry with a wave of his hand, feeling slightly better about himself. He lingered by her side, then slowly retreated into ‘his’ room. Inside, there was just enough space for a desk and bed to coexist. Anything else would have to stick to the walls if they wanted to fit in. Exhausted, the young man flopped onto his mattress and pondered if he should dare make the appropriate remarks? Or just call it a day and see what would happen next?
This, the book seemed to answer for him with its attention-grabbing facade. Ethan brought it forth and flipped its pages, airing his brown damp hair in the process. He couldn’t deny how much he wanted to mend the crack it had inflicted upon his and Maya’s relationship. He thought it best to ease the tension between them by giving Maya some useful advice that she could either take or leave, whatever she saw fit.
As he thought back to the café, he was reminded of her last snide remark. Thus he made sure to skim through the whole book again to avoid coming off as an ignorant snob. He really didn’t want to give her a lesson per say. He simply wanted to guide her, tell her what he liked for once, then pretend as if he hadn’t smeared dirt all over her precious work.
It was as he flipped through the book that the accident happened. An accident that entailed Ethan ripping one of the book's many cream-colored pages a new wound.
“Huh!?” Ethan exclaimed as he experienced the shock. His hands went up to cover the wound to stop the tear from going any further. Although it was minimal, he still desperately wanted to fix it as the book could be one of a kind. With his nerves on edge, Ethan slipped the book aside to go fetch some tape. He managed to reach the doorknob, then he had to stop... Something was making a whole lot of noise in the background, and it unsettled him deeply for it sure sounded like more pages were getting ripped apart, even without his presence.
“What the-?” Ethan murmured as he turned around with a face paling to a horrifying white. He couldn’t comprehend what sort of dark magic was going on, but something was definitely haunting Maya’s book as it had gone on a self-destructing rampage. Defying all logic!
Ethan cautiously glued himself to the wall both mesmerized and scared of the strange phenomenon taking place in his otherwise normal bedroom. When the book was but 30 pages away from turning into total rubbish, Ethan felt his forehead constrain and pulse in an uncomfortable rhythm. Everything felt so surreal that he had to look into the mirror beside him to see if his absurd reality could be reflected within it. What he saw in its corner was unsurprisingly the miserable remains of the book accompanied by thousand bits of fluttering paper pieces, happily dancing above it.
An eerie calm flooded the room and the book’s weird escapade seemed to have stopped. It seemed to, but it couldn’t be known for sure... Ethan forcibly gulped down his fleeing heart. It egged him to leave at once, yet he didn't, for there was something keeping him there. Perhaps a desire for the unknown? Or perhaps the presence of an immobilizing fear?
This he wasn’t allowed to explore as an overwhelming pain came to strike him down where he stood. A thin red line blossomed on his skin and it flowed from the edge of his forehead, all the way down to his heels as it divided his body in two. Literally. He didn’t even manage to scream before his two body-halves parted ways in the middle. They tumbled, lifeless as they were onto the ground. And from thereon they morbidly waited for his lone mother to discover later that eve.
At Ethan’s funeral, only a few people came due to his short-lived life and even shorter-cut family tree. Besides Maya and a few others, there were his parents, and they each had their piece to say. As the first one to leave, his father decided to come up and say with his saddest impression, “May he live a better life in the next one.” Whereas his mother tried her best not to cry in front of the others as she wrenched out the words: “I’ll miss you. I’m already missing you, horribly so… But please don’t mind that and go find peace, my son. Please, rest in peace.”
If Ethan had heard their blessings, he would have given his mother a big kiss on the cheek and his father a great punch in the gut. Alas, the only thing he could hear at the moment was silence. And the slightest trepidations of a heartbeat.