Observation - Cillian Murphy

Gods and Video Games

"Look, all I'm saying is that you could be alone in your room for days and get scared of your reflection after some time," Aaron expressed. "Also, I don't want to mention how strange it is. And ... I want you guys to grow."

Jodie looked at me, making us both laugh. Cillian glanced in our direction, opening his mouth to voice his views. "I think Aaron has a point. Those people are too close-minded if they don't bother understanding the deeper message of this movie."

Aaron grinned at me. "See? It's not the people! It's just the misjudged situations or the social statuses we are presented with. We choose how to react, even to the stupidest comments made by our haters." He paused, trying to find words. "People don't have the power to hurt you. It's the choice to view it as an insult or just an empty word."

I nodded my head. "You're right, Aaron."

He smiled, leaning back on his chair in triumph.

"Aaron, this is the only time I'll let you win."

"Oh, what, Rochelle? You can't handle losing an argument?" Cillian remarked, a corner of his mouth turning up.

I studied him, slightly peaking at his outfit. The leather watch on his wrist shimmered back and forth as he brought up his fork to taste the delicate dish. Tiny wrinkles of his shirt enhanced his look, making him seem almost ethereal.

"Excuse me, dear Cillian. But it seems I wasn't speaking to you directly." I spoke up, my eyes glimmering under the ambivalent lights.

Marcia's knife fell on the floor, bringing everyone back to reality. Then, her gaze fell on me, communicating, 'Don't start this here' with her eyes.

"Please excuse me." I stood up, eyeing him. Walking to the restaurant's balcony, I observed the fancy outfits of the people, which were so breathtaking, as if they'd just left a fashion show.

Outside, the wind had gotten stronger, slightly slicking back my short hair. I pulled out my pack of cigarettes, bringing one out and lighting it up.

I blew the smoke up, listening to distant piano sounds from the inside. Suddenly, the door of the balcony opened, footsteps approaching closer.

"Stop acting like this," I spoke, sucking on the cigarette.

"How did you know it was me?" Cillian wondered.

"The way you walk."

He chuckled, a small glimpse of chewing gum in his mouth. "I'm just trying to be nice and make us look like friends."

"Mhm," I paused, "Totally got that." I voiced, exhaling the smoke into the air.

Silence.

"I hate when you act like that."

"Like what?"

"Like this." I turned around, motioning my finger in a circle.

Cillian gave out a deep sigh, crossing his arms. "How do you want me to act then?"

"Better ... or so I wouldn't get angry at you. And believe me, I don't want to." I expressed, intensely inhaling my cigarette.

"Okay." He stared into the city, chewing gum, his eyes shimmering with sadness. "I hate to see you smoke because... I used to do it when I was your age."

"What made you quit?"

"When I got into rehab," Cillian continued. "I saw all those people with different problems from smoking. It slowly killed people, and I didn't want to be one of them."

I nodded, releasing more smoke into the air. "I find peace in it. I feel like," I paused, inhaling the air. "I smoke to get rid of the pain and die faster."

Cillian gazed at me, slowly chewing gum, his perfect hair dancing on the lightness of the wind. His silhouette, eyes, and energy felt magnetic against my body.

Standing so close to Cillian, I wanted to count each freckle on his nose, run my fingers through his dark hair, get lost and swim in his blue eyes, which changed colors in the darkness.

"Your cheekbones were shaped by gods themselves." I let a thought escape my mouth.

Cillian chuckled. "What happened to you hating me?"

Pointing at my heart, I inhaled the last bit of my cigarette before stubbing it out. "The hate is still there, Cillian. It's still there." I repeated.

Cillian studied me. "You look good today, by the way." He remarked, slowly turning around and disappearing into the restaurant.

I stood at the same spot, shocked, only hearing ghostly notes of 'Video Games' by Lana Del Rey play in the distance.