A Crown For A Heart

¶ Prologue ∆

I think you should say it,
Say it now.
Be fearless of what is to happen,
For you'll never know the magic
Of what is to happen
If you don't
Say it,

So,

Say it now!

Romcoms on blockbuster charts state their name proudly. Over the years, they have made money on the promise that true love wins. What's true love? The saying goes that the moment you'll find it, you'll know it's true love. Convenient for a couple of script writers who have neither fallen in love or have pondered around the idea of it. The true question at the end of Romeo and Juliet shouldn't be what makes an eternal love story? The real question is how the hell did they go from loving each other to killing themselves with a cold knife on a colder altar?

Until the age of thirteen, it was very common for kids to think that the Shakespearean love classic was some sort of self bludgeoning fantasy. That after second base, you're required to stick a knife in your gut for the one you love.

It's me. I'm kids.

Literally no one else thought that. I regarded myself as a genius until I was corrected in high school by my very own literature teacher, who was quite horrified to be honest. I didn't understand that love, all the smooching and neck sniffing aside, required one to stake their life for another. What sort of an emotion would that be? Wanting to kill yourself because your apparent 'beloved' had succumbed to death?

However, modernity had swung right into the face of archaic knowledge, thus spurting the growth of solutions to battle the problems of these ages. All of them held the tag of 'nearly succumbing to death' with sub-categories that went along the lines of "succumbing to death because I can't confess my love", "succumbing to death because of zero social stature" and my personal favorite, "succumbing to death because love doesn't favor the ugly".

I think, I could somewhat proudly say, that today I was experiencing all of it in equal proportions.

Pushing back the loose strand of jet black hair from my face, I carefully adjusted my tresses with a quick pat at the back of my head. It had been half an hour or so since I had tried to coax it into a respectable mess but had failed miserably. Okay that doesn't matter, a clip will do the trick. My hands shifted to the desk to find a spare one, almost jittering while pressing the clip to my scalp. It closed with a clutter, the impact shaking my hand and making me gulp.

I looked closer into the mirror. My facial features appeared more enhanced ever since I began using the night cream right before I slept. The dark circles as a result of exam induced insomnia had disappeared considerably and I looked like the rosier reflection of my usual self. I just hoped that no would notice, although I knew it was wishful thinking.

What about the eyebrows?

Thank God they looked decent and neatly shaped too. My unibrow was too embarrassing to ever be seen again. My teeth seemed to join the well-shaped riot, not to mention that I had my braces removed on the weekend and that it all seemed like a whole new world.

An entirely new reason to finally own up to the crush that I had been harboring for so long.

My eyes fluttered in front of the mirror. Chalk Moriarty, the sports captain of senior school and the true ladies man. His hair let astray as he jogged across the football field on Monday mornings as his shorts flapped against the cold wind. His white sneakers brushing against the tall blades of brown grass as his legs extended in a full swing to kick the ball and give his team the victory point. Not to mention the flock of women that would suffocate him immediately after the game. Or should I say just the cheerleaders.