Two strangers. One room. And it doesn't end there.
Rhys Hayes has been diagnosed with dyscalculia. He finds it easier to avoid talking than have to reveal his secret: why he can't tell the time, or why he doesn't remember directions, or why he just...
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April 7th:
✿ Verena ✿
It's seven in the morning and I'm trying to be sneaky. I need to give him something.
It's his birthday.
I don't know why but I really want to give him a gift. I think I would feel too guilty if I don't. Maybe, I'll even cry over how bad of a person I am, a low life with no morals.
Also, Rhys has been acting nice. I think it's because he wants a gift. I used to be on my best behavior whenever I wanted something. I always thought it would bring me more gifts on Christmas but all I ever got was Miss Anne's hugs.
Atleast she didn't smell like a rotten potato sack or like Danny, the guy who didn't like the taste of water.
I reach for my phone and search up birthday gifts on pinterest.
After an hour of wasting (I got caught up in other stuff, particularly mentally laughing at memes-), I decide the only thing I can give him is a painting.
I quickly open my drawing book and my eyes stop at the bubble boy I'd drawn earlier. It brings a smile on my face as I think of how much we have changed. He's not the boy in the bubble anymore.
I make sure Rhys is still asleep before reaching for my paints.
I start with drawing myself, as a kid. I make myself look pretty, with long shiny gold hair and a crown on my head, while I'm standing on tall green grass. I'm turned sideways, with my arms extended out, choking a teddy bear.
The teddy's fur matches Rhys's hair color and I complete the drawing with an evil smile on my face and writing 'happy birthday Rhys' above my head.
Next, I fold the paper into a card and smile, "Yes!"
"Vera!" I hear Rhys groan, "Let's sleep."
"No, I'm not sleeping," I say, quickly keeping all of my paints away and hiding the card and a black marker behind my back as I stand up.
"Okay," He says and starts shrugging his blanket away, his eyes barely open.
"Rhys, you can still sleep for an hour!" I suggest.
"Oh, okay," He nods and lies back down again.
I kneel down beside the bed side table, placing the card on it and pulling open the marker.
What do I write?
Happy birthday?
You don't know about me But I'll bet you want to Everything will be alright if We just keep dancing like you're 22.
It seems like one of those nights This place is not crowded (just covid things) Not many cool kids (only one, me) (Who's Rhys Hayes anyway? Ew) It seems like one of those nights We ditch the whole scene And end up dreamin' instead of sleeping, yeah
