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———"To all the time we were apart,"
:: CONFLICT, CONFUSION, both arose in Bachira's mind. What did you mean by being able to see his monster?
The boy knew that the monster was a part of his own mind, a figment he used to cope through his extreme loneliness and social isolation.
— "I know you're confused. Let me explain." You said.
Bachira just nodded in reply.
— "What I am trying to say is, we are alike. Inside of me, I use a monster as a coping mechanism too." You told the boy, in which he was quite shocked at your confession.
Bachira Meguru did not know how to react. He had no idea how to approach this situation.
— "Is that why you decided to pity me, and bring me into your house?" Bachira finally asked, in a half-bitter tone. He disliked people who pitied others and showed fake sympathy to them.
— "Not at all, figured you'd hate it as well." You grinned at the bob-cut boy. He couldn't help but return a small grin in return.
— "I am simply interested in learning about people who share a similar psychological perspective as myself. Also thought it was a waste for you to play soccer all alone." You continued explaining,
Bachira thought for a moment. His mind was racing, a conundrum of cacophonous thoughts hammered inside his head. Was he truly about to explain his own problems to a stranger he just met on the same day?
"Screw it." He thought to himself.
— "Well, the monster only exists within me because no one was able to soccer with me. Without the monster, I'd be all alone." Bachira told you.
— "Interesting, my monster appears when I play music, especially the guitar. Both of our monsters must be rooted from loneliness and the need of escapism of real people." You noted.
— "You play guitar?"
— "It's what I'm passionate about. I've always wanted to play in a band, but no one was able to keep up with me. That is where my monster comes in."
Bachira let out a soft hum. He felt like he could truly understand another person for the first time. For an unknown, redacted reason, his heart felt warm.
— "So, what's your name?" Bachira asked, his face wearing a tiny smirk.
— "The name is y/n l/n. Pleasure to officially introduce myself. I'm in class 3-B by the way."
— "Hm, so you're two classes over. Anyway, I'm going home now, thanks for saving me from the rain. I guess I could call you... guitar hero."
You raised your eyebrow at Bachira, your ears perking up at his nickname for you. You could tell he was starting to warm up to you.
— "Alright, I'll help you gather your things. Here's an umbrella, you should keep it." You handed him the same umbrella you both shared earlier on.
The bob-cut boy smiled at you in such a genuine way, it made your heart beat a little faster than usual.
— "I think it would be better if I returned the umbrella after all." Bachira stated.
— "No, no. You should keep it-" You protested, before being interrupted by the boy.
— "Nah. It'll give me an excuse to come see you again."
Your eyes widened, taken aback by Bachira's sudden boldness. You let out a little laugh, amused at his behaviour.
— "I'll be seeing you at school tomorrow then." You told him.
"Looking forward to it." He replied, sticking his tongue out slightly on a childish manner.
——————
HE COULD not fall asleep that night, his heart and mind filled with a mixture of excitement and warmth. Bachira could not stop thinking about the events that had happened earlier the same day.
Even if he had just met you today, he felt like he could truly understand you, and vice versa.
Bachira felt happy, a different kind of happy when he was playing soccer on the field. Soccer felt like a constant roller coaster of emotions, while this happiness felt like the smell of hot chocolate by a cozy fireplace.
Perhaps he was jumping to conclusions, but this may have been the first time he had ever made a friend.
His mind started drifting off to the image of you. Your smile, the way your eyes seemingly winked at him when you grinned. Your voice, the way you spoke with such softness yet with such confidence.
He felt giddy, thinking of you.
All Bachira knew was, he could not wait to see you again. To him, you were truly his hero. A guitar hero.
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