So every day after school, they both met together with information on different shows, timings, schedules and everything else anchors need for a fundraiser. So every day they had to spend 2 hours together. Cynthia waited all day long for those two hours. As usual she thought he didn't look forward to it but then again little did she know.
During practice at last also let out a hint that even he liked Cynthia. Cynthia was talking and Oliver looked at her.
Those words which she was speaking just seemed like a fading echo. He looked at her beautiful green eyes. They told him more than her lips could ever speak. And then he heard her laugh. Her laugh was like the long awaited rain to a drought infected field. Her laugh was like a cool breeze after a long day's work on a hot day. Her laugh was like mellifluous symphony to show ears.
Anyways Oliver didn't stop watching her and well Cynthia looked at him. Oliver immediately turned away. He felt her gaze on his reddening chubby cheeks. And then she knew, it was only one way, it was definitely two way.
She smiled. Maybe everything might just become better. Maybe.
*****
"I have to deliver this speech for some class." Cynthia said.
"Oh, all the best" I said.
"Thanks. I'm feeling out" she said.
"What are you speaking about?" I asked.
"Oh! Living in the today." She replied.
"If you need help, check out my blog." I said.
"Your blog?" She said with sudden interest on her voice.
"Yeah. My writing." I said.
"Oh! Website please." She said.
"notgonnabeperfect.blogspot.com. One word." I said. She looked interested. "Catch you later. See ya" I said.
"Bye." She said.
notgonnabeperfect.blogspot.com. The words echoed in her ears.
********
I always caught the bus home. I didn't have friends. Just some acquaintances but all of them had cars. I didn't. They had girlfriends. I didn't. They had cells. I didn't. I just had one godforsaken IPod. But my iPod was my life.
Music was my life. The rhythm moved throughout my body. The lyrics struck a deal with my brain. It gave me instant euphoria. Music was beauty. I didn't believe in God but I believed in an equivalent. Music. Music managed to get me to the best of times. I managed to like all types of music.
But then I realise that I can't escape to the perfect world of music forever. I sadly, have to remove my headphones and face the horrible bitter truth called life.
Oliver never talked about music with anyone but Cynthia.
********
Cynthia drove seven miles faster than the speed limit. She had to see that blog as fast as possible.
She reached home.
"Hey! Mom. "She said.
"Hi. Um........... Jake called" her mom replied.
"I don't care" she said and ran up the stairs to her room.
The blog was beautiful. It was black. Black was beautiful. Black was pure.
The first post was perfect for her speech.
***********
The lights in the auditorium were switched off. The audience was waiting and Cynthia walked onto the stage wearing a frock with blue floral prints. She started her speech.
"Mr Chairperson, ladies and gentlemen,
I have realised something today. I have realised that my whole life is a lie. We are living for someone else. We are living for the approval of someone who doesn't even matter anymore. We are living for the mere reason that we have to live. We are humans who don't know the real meaning of life. We are not living in the today but we are living in the future. We are living with a blindfold over our eyes. We are not living the joys and happiness of today. To put it simply," she paused.
"We are not living." Another voice spoke. She instantly knew who it was. She smiled.
"So live." She continued.
"How?" The other voice obliged as the owner of the voice came on stage.
"Living is living in the moment." she said. "Living is being happy." He said.
"Living is an impulsive desire to do something before your time runs out" she said.
"Living is a thirst to prove yourself." he said.
"Living is when you have control of each and every controllable muscle, bone and tendon of your body." she continued. "Living is when you don't care anymore about things such as prestige, fame and approval."
"Living is when you remove the blindfold from your eyes and take a long, hard look into the mirror and you realize that you were never the person you thought you were."
"To put it simply, we are not living." Both of them said it together.
An applause followed.
**********
"I need to talk to you" Cynthia said.
"Yeah sure" I said.
"You know, you can't do this. You can't barge in like that with a mike and just start talking." She said.
However much she wanted Oliver to barge in. She didn't want him to.
"Even though you wrote that, it's my speech. No one hijacks my speech. You can't do that. Babe, I love you but ——"
Oops, she thought.
Her cheeks turned rosy. Turned red. Turned really red.
"Okay, I have to go. Bye" she said and turned and walked away.
Oliver was standing there and looked at that girl walking. Damn that girl.
His cheeks turned rosy. Turned red. Turned really red.
End of Chapter 3
YOU ARE READING
The Imperfect Perfectionists
Genç KurguI'm not good at this.Just read it. its good i swear.
