The Boy Who Waited.
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DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING. DO NOT TAKE THIS FIC AS PHAN PROOF BECAUSE THIS IS JUST FOR FUN.
Based on a graphic short by Toni Sibayan.
"'Cause if one day you wake up
And find that you're missing me
And your heart starts to wonder
Where on this earth I could be
Thinking maybe you'll come back
To the place that we'd meet"
-The Man Who Can't Be Moved
The Boy Who Waited
As a child, I never really had friends. Everyone I ever interacted with either were too quick to judge me or just genuinely didn't like me. It was difficult to go through school not having anyone to chat excitedly with about the new Crash Bandicoot game or someone to copy math homework off of.
Bullies were also an abundance in my school life. The ones who deem themselves worthy as the top of the social hierarchy. The ones who put me down for even the smallest of insecurities. The stress and lack of peers to support me was this close to making me crack or go crazy.
That's why I love going to the park. The park, or "recreational field" as my mum calls it, is only a few blocks away from my house. My mum would take me there and walk across the street to the office. That place is my haven. The one escape I have in a world so harsh and power-obsessed. An escape to a world that only belongs to me.
Then again, there's the boy on the bridge.
I only call him " the boy on the bridge" because that is where I always see him. Whenever I pass by, he's never anywhere else. Although I'm sure he goes home afterwards but he always sits at the exact same bridge, on the exact same spot and stays there for who knows how long.
It's like he's permanently glued to the edge of the bridge, his eyes staring into a land only he can see.
One day, I was let into that world.
My mum had to work extra hours that day and my dad was off on another business trip for a film. The only safe place (as safe as it can get) that my mum can think of to leave me in is the park. I never objected to such a decision. So when she brought me to the park, I was given a kiss on the head and a fresh 20 pound note in my hand for snacks.
I should be lucky. Most nine year olds barely get this much independence and freedom. I just feel... lonely, I guess. I was happy here though, the park was one of the only things in my life that made me feel even the slightest bit of happiness.
I walked across the grass covered land, occassionally brushing past a patch of flowers or a small bush. It took me 20 minutes of mindless wandering to reach the bridge - to reach the boy on the bridge.
I stood at least 3 feet away from him from my point at the edge of the bridge. I watched as his raven black hair moved gracefully in the wind like some sort of unchoreographed ballet towards the forces of nature. Some strands fell by his eyes so whatever color it was, was obscured from my sight.
I never thought of a boy as beautiful.
But this boy, he was definitely beautiful.
I stared at him for a few more seconds until his head slowly looked up from the flowing stream underneath his pale white skin. He turned his head and I soon realized that he saw me. He caught me staring at him. He blinked his wide blue eyes at me, curiosity evident behind those large innocent eyes. I debated with myself on whether I should look away and continue walking or just stare at him until the air fills with awkwardness.
