Category: Fake Love

Category 6: Real

She is ridiculed, bullied, shamed, called names, the confidence she built all her life has been trampled by the same guy in the span of four days. She is in an unknown island with strangers, is he a stranger? Yes he is, even if he's the same guy she used to know... the guy she thought would never...

"I don't need your organs, ew, you don't even look healthy to be a donor--

"No rich old man would want you"

"I mean you look ragged, poor, dirty, no sense of style. You're perfect to make my parents blood boil"

"You call that a house? It's barely even standing anymore, it could pass as an abandoned public comfort room and what things? The only things you have there are those pathetic used up second hand stuff, bet they're even fifth hand!"

"Hands off Myron, she's dirty"

"Hey stick o! Stop gawking let's go!"

"Are you done looking stupid? I'm kinda hungry if you wanna keep being stupid I won't stop you but I paid for this, so quit gawking looking like an iguana who smoked seven sacks of weed"

"The bag is all she has, Leigh had to buy her new clothes earlier because she's too poor she can't afford anything"

"She's doesn't know how to use the utensils Dad, and she's not familiar with the food, she's poor, she's never experienced this before"

"Don't let her help, she might break everything"

"What the fuck are you doing? What the hell is wrong with you? I'm paying you for this, so you better fucking act"

He would never say those things to her, was it all a façade? A trap for her to be vulnerable, open herself and let him delve into her weakness? 

He was kind then when it was raining and her pathetic house with a sad excuse for a roof was dripping because of the holes, there was only one blanket because she is poor, it was a pathetic blanket, very worn out, so thin and could pass as a rag, she was sitting on the floor, shaking, shivering from the cold, the blanket was with him in her room, on her bed, of course he would have it he's a visitor after all, she hugged herself, desperately trying to keep warm, then a clothe was placed on her, it was his jacket, she turned to him, he was smiling then, "you should have this, I have the blanket it's okay" the jacket brought warmth more than her blanket could...

He was sweet on the afternoons they spent on the rooftop of that abandoned factory, it was near her house, she loved that rooftop, she could feel the wind, and for some moments when the wind is strong enough she would spread her arms and pretend she's flying as the wind passes her, she loved that rooftop, it was a special place for her, she never brought anyone there, not even Luna, the only friend she has. She doesn't know why she brought him there, but on those afternoons they spent making flower crowns, he would smile at her and patiently taught her how, they talked a lot about themselves, what they love, what they hate, what their dreams were... or maybe she talked about herself, what she loved, what she hated, what her dreams are, he never did say anything about himself... and when she said her favorite flower was Gumamela not because it was one of the very few flowers she could name, it was also because it was free, it's everywhere, it's beautiful, she always found beauty in the simpler things, and since that afternoon she told him, she would wake up to mornings with a Gumamela given to her, "Good morning"  he would always greet her with that sweet smile, he would smile so sweetly his eyes would turn crescent, and she... she would always blush...

He was soft on the nights she would feel lonely even with his company, on the nights where the brightest of stars can't bring light to her darkest thoughts, the hands that would pat her shoulder to bring her back were soft, light, a reminder, a plea for her to come back, the warmth emitting from the hold he had on her arm, the warmth to ground her, remind her she wasn't alone... at least for a while she wasn't. For a week she wasn't.