When my friends' admiration toward Desiree turned from mere curiosity into idolatry, I wasn't immediately aware. It was when the song of praises turned into comparison speech about me vs. her that I realize envy has crept into my heart and claimed its place.
I wasn't lying when I told you I am used to the spotlight. As a natural leader slash class clown, I easily attracted attentions. People don't necessarily worship me, but they turn to me whenever something's happening; be it an event where they need a comedian or an event where they need someone to make the call.
For me, that was enough. For my friends, that wasn't. Being friends with me, they were used to brutal honesty. We hurt each other every once in a while. We believe it was good for the betterment of ourselves, so that we could see the mistakes that we could just pretend to not see. That's why when the comparison began, I understood that they weren't content with me. I had probably hurt most of them with whatever truths coming out of my mouth.
Regardless, leveling down and changing my way just wasn't in my blood, so I left them be and found my getaway at Green Garden Cafe. Ironically, with Desiree (and her minions). Since that Saturday night, I spent numerous weekends there for tens of reasons. Assignments, discussions, trading gossips for gossips. Observing Desiree while at the same time drinking attentions with which they showered me. A rare asset like me was always intriguing at first.
"Is it really okay for you to stay out this late?"
A casual question with a casual tone, but, God, why did it sound so disturbing? It was Mazmur, of course. I could never, never!, observe Desiree properly whenever he's around. He would pop random questions at me at the most unexpected of times.
"Seriously, after weekends and weekends, you only get to ask me this NOW?" was my response.
He laughed. "Well, it just popped into my head."
I chuckled. "It's only half past eleven. I'm fine."
"It's late for girls. How did you manage to get home safely, anyway?" he asked.
"How flattering. Well, I just managed."
"Let me drive you home," he offered, to which I automatically declined. "Aren't you supposed to drive Desiree home?"
"Well, driving both of you wouldn't be a problem."
I shrugged. "Well, if it's not a problem, I don't see why not. Anyway, I've been wondering how come we'd never talked like this back at school. . ."
I let my voice trailed off, but he took me up and talked about our high school and how we enjoyed it rather differently.
[M]
