[TSN/EM] Paradise Lost

01

The story goes back to when Mark was sixteen-year-old. He had yet to even be introduced to book publishing industry, nor had he yet realize that the opening of every great story is always poetic. So when fate befell him, Mark is unperturbed by its arrival. At age of sixteen, Mark received his offer from Harvard. Even his dog was more excited than he was, barking and circling around Mark's feet, yet he merely smiled at the corners of his mouth.

Destiny, as if fated, bestowed its graceful hand upon young Mark's head, and he took it for granted within the vast vision of his sixteen-year-old self. It is worth emphasizing that the inception of a destined journey of life lies within the boundless hopes and expectations that teenagers harbor for themselves at their perfect age: At the age of sixteen, there exists a foresight that is divided into two nodes: the stage before sixteen, when he have to endure challenges because of his genius; be it unexplained dilemmas at home, on academic burdens, or in social life. And now, there is the need to wait, where everything becomes elongated and endurance doubles—endurance to face what cannot be outrun, changed, or chosen despite one's gifted brilliance, and patience with the doubled disillusionment that accompanies the gift of his remarkable genius. On campus, the sixteen-year-old still remains a child; he was unable to legally enter certain places that symbolized temptation, he couldn't go to clubs nor bars, yet he too could not resist the temptations embodied by those opened doors as they unleashed their dazzling allure, it was a global, and timeless grandeur that even a sixteen-year-old overman couldn't possibly resit. Even his academic achievements are not taken seriously. Despite enrolling in school earlier than any of this peers and with full credit, his choice of subjects simply seemed weird. And even Mark himself seems weaker than his academic pursuits, although he held a heart of more internal strength, integrity, and modest than one well ever need. Mark, in many ways, is more like the one who should be needing counseling research rather than counseling research needing him. Though this era, admittedly, witnessed a fragile American psyche, literary literacy continued to decline, and low-level tastes expanded infinitely. It was a time of transformation towards a functional society, people were taking excessive amounts of hallucinogens, and suffering from literary maladies—and here is where Mark's academic pursuits could find his fitting purpose. Yet unfortunately Mark is more serious and more fond of the classical school of purely rational criticism, classical, a trait that emerges shortly after destiny. He long realized that he was born in the wrong era, he wished he'd been there twenty years earlier, where he could adapt to a more dynamically creative environment, or twenty years later, when modern life is rubbish, and Mark would have had a 79.56% chance of dominating the world—but now he has nothing, and this would be the theme of the story that carries through the whole piece.

Mark had been enrolled for four months when he finally lost it .It was at this particular moment he met Eduardo (a true gentleman,stereotypical and meticulously refined, he arrived in elegance so princely and radiating with it's brilliance).Eduardo gracefully pushed open the entrance of the Kirkland H33 dormitory, capturing everyone's attention. He greeted everyone before starting his discussion on the group work for his economics class with Dustin. He managed to make a good first impression for everyone : his smile warm, his voice mellow, his hair carefully groomed, his attire carefully chose—His fitting black shirt gives him a more formal vibe, while his black North Face jacket goes for a more casual style. He'd balanced the two looks well with his North Face with a black shirt. Black is a gentlemanly colour, and Eduardo found solace in it.

From their very first encounter, Eduardo displayed an extraordinary level of patience, even though it hadn't yet blossomed into love (or friendship) at first sight, it still remains perplexing. Perhaps that's because Mark was the only person who is indifferent to Eduardo's charm formula. Mark was ordinary enough (it's four months into Harvard, what other names did he get besides weirdo and nerd?) yet still he was indifferent to Eduardo's charm, oh how special. At this point in h33, Billy is away, Chris is leaving, and Mark is sitting at his desk, engrossed in his writing—a state in which he becomes completely absorbed, devoting his passion and anguish unrelated to his A-leveled courses into his detective novel. Although this novel has never been published and only a select few have caught glimpses of its fragments, until much later, it is still Eduardo alone who has had the fortune of being the sole, true, and complete reader of the entire work. ("He must've paid significant price for this exclusive privilege",Dustin concluded, in much perspectiveness, "Mark warned us, 'Those who read it entirety will die.'" )

Mark's writing consumed him, the only thing he is sensitive of is the sense of smell. Eduardo had been standing silently behind him for over ten minutes, and the overpowering scent of Eduardo's cologne is overwhelming Mark's senses, he wanted to vomit. Finally, Mark turned his head, his expression vacant. Eduardo smiled weakly. "Hi-," his heart raced, "I love this story, you're a genius." In response, Mark threw up.

Riptide. The title of this detective novel is Riptide. It tells the story of a detective who spends his whole life pursuing the shadow of his love. However, fate proves it's cruelty as he repeatedly finds himself entangled in countless cases, forcing him to withdraw, and it had happened too many time until he reaches a point where he has all but forsaken the idea of love, what was left is only the constant repetition of the action of the pursuit. His love is much like that of a mysterious black cat: always slipping through his fingers and never fully materializing, She remains an enigma, beyond his grasp, and devoid of any tangible description. The only evidence of her existence was in the detective's obsession, a fervor that consumes his very being and compels him to sacrifice his entire life in its pursuit. Eduardo, however,thought that this plot design was a simply his artistic trick. Mark lacks the necessary depth of personal experience in matters of love and therefore cannot to depict what love actually is. All he could describe was an empty concept. Just look at him—his face is pale, dull, and always etched with a scowl. His seems better suited for a protagonist within the pages of literature than an actual living human. No one who would love him, no one would possibly be able to care for for a cynical teen 24/7 while enjoying an easy life.

Except for Eduardo. In those short ten minutes, Eduardo quickly and expectedly found himself falling in love with Mark and Riptide. "You're a genius," he said earnestly, hinting an invitation. Yet Mark didn't catch that, instead, he puked. (Perhaps this is an omen for their unfortunate future, or perhaps this will be a glorious historical tale that begins and ends in woe, but since they both have their own visions of their future, they both decide to ignore that.) Eduardo politely knocked on the door before entering the restroom, but Mark was too preoccupied with vomiting to pay him any attention. So Eduardo stayed in front of the restroom door instead, keeping a refreshingly detached distance between him and Mark. "Are you okay?" He asked again with concern.

Mark was downright annoyed. For starters, they didn't even know each other. Second, the smell of Eduardo's cologne made him sick. Finally, Eduardo had been sycophantic and harping on him in a way that didn't even necessitate his response (he couldn't understand Eduardo's motive, nor did he feel any obligation to try and understand them). Including the part saying Mark is a genius, which was undeniably true and an inevitable outcome dictated by the initial and final laws of necessity within the story. But in the end, he spared Eduardo's greeting, he stepped out of the restroom while Eduardo concernedly placed a gentle, tentative palm on his shoulder, suddenly the warmth and gentleness of his hand scalded him. 

"Your name's Mark, isn't it? You're a genius." He said it like an aria. It is what it is, so Mark forgave him.

On the 49th day of their acquaintance, they started dating.