"That way we'll get to have different atmosphere. Someday some other place too, if you'd like. Composition isn't that easy," he states like an enlightened sage.
"It's not? I thought you could compose while sleeping," I remark.
"Only when my mind is at absolute peace. Certain places can invoke it better."
"Then let's get going already. Would you rather stand here all day?"
"Saint!" Chris dash to us seeing me with him. "I have something to talk to you about."
Damien and Chris lock eyes as if communicating something about me.
"Follow me before I change my mind, Frost." I march forward paying no heed to Chris's words.
Damien stops me. "Oi! Don't you have two more classes?"
"Since when did you care about classes?" I snide. "Let me ask you, what did Professor say when he shut the book looking at his watch with furrowed brows at 11.10am?"
"You win Saint Angel. But really, how can one pay so much attention?" Damien ambles after me.
Chris... hope you've learnt your lesson.
We reach my house. Mom welcomes us. She was sweeping the front of the yard, a small flock of leaves still remains at the right corner of the gate.
Damien offers her a self-effacing smile, something that's rare. Mom beams ear to ear—kind of like she's glad and surprised that I've brought someone home other than Chris in twenty years of my life.
"Honey, is he from your class?" She asks proceeding to make us something in the kitchen.
"Uh.."
"I'm Damien," he introduces himself. "We share the same class and now," Damien gives me a wink saying, "we are working together on this assignment."
I stand barefoot at the foot of the staircase while Damien's still taking off his black medium long laced boots. "No need for making anything please Mrs. Angel. We'd both be occupied anyway."
"Don't think of this as trouble Damien." She protrudes her head from the kitchen. "Saint...he never brings anyone. Mostly we're the only ones."
"Mom!" I plead silently imploring her to not loosen her lips.
"It's okay honey. He looks like a nice young man. Never thought my son would be friend with someone so handsome. Such bright eyes you've got dear," she compliments him while boiling water in a pan.
The cavitation sound of boiled water stirs something in me violently and I briskly head upstairs. Oh mom...only you can praise your son's enemy...thinking he's handsome when the whole class is demented about me. How can Damien Frost ever be my acquaintance? Because of me his popularity has become low even by a little. Still, how would the son of a reputed politician's son live with the worm crawling in the narrow vessels of his blood that there's someone else who everyone secretly and openly admires besides him?
I slouched against the door when Damien flings it open causing me to stagger back.
"Surely you didn't mind your mother's words did you?" He swiftly picks up a book from my table. I turn to find it's that book which I borrowed from Chris. "I didn't know you'd indulge yourself in something else besides your studies."
If I answer him now it'd turn into another earful argument. "Are we here to talk about my habits?"
He flumps on the bed like he owns it. "A forthright manner hm...goes well with your name."
"Pray tell how shall I take this statement?" I ask sedately.
"However you please." He unzips his bag taking out his notebook. "Have you ever tried creating a track or humming a tune while doing something like in the bathroom..?"
I give him a pointed look. "I never sing in the shower."
"Hah?" He gives me a crooked grin. "You're missing out."
"I don't think so."
"Now don't tell me you have never sing a song," he pouts dramatically.
"I have." I press my lips. Can he be more stupid? Why would I ever get into the music faculty if I had never sung in my life?
"Thank god!" He turns the page and marks the third topic requirements. "Now we have to try to write some lyrics first."
I have never written a poem in my life
How am I expected to write a long and then add melody to it?
His eyes scrutinizes the creases between my eyebrows as if attempting to read my thoughts. Then he rubs his hands together. "Why don't you tell me first what kind of song do you prefer to listen to?"
"I liked Swordsplay." Oh no...what have my tongue slipped just now?
His big almond eyes shoot up in equal surprise.
Swordsplay—the name may sound too rocky and rebellious but it's a nicely written song and its tune's kind of pop and R&B mixed.
A smirk curls up at his corners. "Did I just hear right?"
I shut the notebook he was holding with a loud thud. "If you're not facing hearing troubles then yes." No matter how much I hate someone...if they do something that's praiseworthy—then I'll praise it as well. I'm not a hypocrite. "We've already wasted an hour without any significant outcome. Do you really want to provoke me now?"
"Fine. Just don't scare a little boy, Saint Angel. Otherwise they'll say you're rude and cold—unlike your name," he teases me again.
"They already do it. Oh you would have no idea...cause you weren't here from the beginning of the year," I answer with a straight face.
That's right... No matter how much people likes me—it's just for this face.
And I don't intend to be anyone's favourite.
The next few minutes pass in total silence. But eventually he breaks the silence. "Let's listen to some musics today together?" He suggests. "We have a month for the assignment. We have to get inspired as much as we can, hm?"
I nod taking out my pendrive from the drawer.
"Let's exchange our taste," he extends his hand that holds his pendrive.
I'm agreeing to him a lot...and it's pissing me off.
Mom enters with a tray filled with hot cakes and caramel coffee. The thick golden brown colored syrup rolls down off the sides.
"Ah they look delicious. Thanks Mrs. Angel."
She sets down the tray. "Call me aunt and drop the formalities Damien. You're the same age as my son." She smiles gently at him. "And call me if you two need anything."
"Mom.. you should rest," I scold.
"I do it all day silly boy. Another reason why my ankles hurt these days. Human body's like a machine. When it stops doing things it should, it gets jammed."
"Huh fine... Just don't overdo it "
"Understood big boy." She shuts the door on her way out.
"Is she..." Damien flounders with his words as if considering if he should ask about it. Then he takes a mighty bite if the still hot pancake. He immediately opens his mouth widely releasing warm visible vapours while slashing the air in front of his mouth. "Augh! Hot hot!!"
I instinctively kneel closer to him and start blowing into his mouth. "Did you burn your tongue or upper roof? How can you chomp on it without blowing on it first, idiot?!"
He grabs my hand in mid air. "What are you doing?"
What am I doing! I immediately withdraw myself from him. I.. I broke my own condition!
I munch slowly on the cake trying to brace myself for any forthcoming comment from him but he just slurps his coffee whilst listening to his next song. Damien Frost... What are you making me do?
••••
When I stare at the ceiling lying on my bed at night rethinking about today's events, Mom knocks.
"It's open mom."
She sits on the right side of my bed. "Can't sleep?"
"I can ask the same. It's past 1.30a.m." But to think... I'm having trouble falling asleep lately. Is it some suppressed anxiety?
"Are you thinking about Damien?"
"What? No! Why would I?" I cringe. "I'm thinking nothing."
She laughs generously. "You two have taunted each other for ten times today in two hours."
"Did you eavesdrop on us?" I squirm under the cover.
"There are only a few people in this house, don't you think? Me, you, tables and chairs?" She ruffles my hair. "Silly. I could hear it from downstairs."
"What about you? Why did you decide to come to your son this late?" I yawn feeling my eyelids heavy.
"I... A thought suddenly hit me." Her eyes hold faraway view. "That I haven't been spending much time with my son." She fumbles for my hand from underneath the cover. "I apologise for the other day honey."
"You don't have to. I...I also shouldn't have acted that way."
"But I want to." She kisses on top of my head. "You can't succumb to your dad's wishes, Sein." Her pupils glisten with a resolute sheen. "I won't be able to see your life turn out the way it did for me—in the dominant fist of somebody else."
I nod. I know if I agree to live with him, it won't be late before I become a mechanical puppet in his hands. From asking permissions for every little thing to marrying the girl he chooses. I must not let her sacrifice go to waste. She lost her own dream—now she lives with the desire of seeing her long lost dream's fulfillment through her son.
••••
The next two days I spend on the project with Damien. He didn't bring up that day's incident. Today I don't see him in class. But it's not unusual —given he already missed three months' lectures.
I see Chris talking to a girl named Henrietta. They are partners for the assignment. But the way he's looking at her doesn't feel like he only means business. What about his girlfriend? But what do I care.
I see Zeb and Mika exchanging their earphones while Todd's recommending some movie to them that he says he watched recently. I kind of want to know why their Boss didn't come today. We haven't progressed much either. For the past two days we only listened to plenty of songs. Some songs which even he never listened to before.
"Todd," I wave my hand calling him over. He whispers something in Zeb's ear before coming to me.
"Saint. What do you want?"
"Is there a reason why after 3 months straight...your leader is again absent today?" He won't be coming today I know. It's already too late.
"Shouldn't you be much informed in this matter Saint?" He stoops over my desk. "After all you two have been spending more time together."
"A straight answer is always appreciated Todd. Do you know or not?" I get up grabbing my bag, ready to find out on my own if he doesn't give me the answer. Even though I don't need to...
Zeb walks over. Putting a hand on Todd's left shoulder he asks, "What's the matter now?"
"He's asking why Boss's absent today. Zeb you are closer to him than me and Mika. Do you know about him?"
Zeb gives me a keen eye. "Why don't you ask him yourself if you're worried? Don't you have his contact?"
No I don't have it! "Fine. Don't."
I'm about to leave when he says again, "Wait."
I turn back waiting on his reply. "He's caught a cold I guess. When I called him earlier his voice sounded different. When I asked if he's alright he said he'd be fine."
Huh? I keep my face neutral asking, "How?"
The two of them share an ambiguous look. "We didn't ask him."
I roll my eyes but say nothing. Mika yells, "Saint! Where are you going?"
"Nowhere."
How do they still call themselves friends of him? They didn't even ask him or visit him? Will I be fine going there alone?
But my scepticism reaches clarity when I ring the doorbell and a fragile looking Damien answers the door.