"This is bullshit." I heard a loud shout from the table next to mine. I turned around to look at the source who had tried to express his opinion towards a certain thing in a place where even talking was prohibited: the library.
"Not again Drew." The kid next to the source of disruption sighed deeply, trying to block all the unwanted attention he was facing.
"How does this Mr John Green expect us to believe in him! He clearly states here that Margo Roth Speiglemen says: Maybe all the strings inside him broke. Well let me tell you dear Mr John, no nine year old girl living in Florida would even try to intervene in a suicide case, let alone try to discover the reason of his death. All they'd be wanting are pink dolls and dresses and now even iPhone 7's." The source of disruption named Drew said.
"And what are your suggestions to the New York Times Bestselling Author you adolescent child?" The librarian interviewed. The lady sure did try to bring in some humour into her perfectly boring life where all she did was check books in and out, put the books in racks and cry about her life to her assistant.
"Firstly, Mrs. Pogens anyone who writes a novel which he or she thinks 8 out of 10 critics will say "Fantabulous job Mr. Wickeydoodledoo" becomes a New York Times Bestselling author. In fact 4 out of these 8 people whose comments are published in the book haven't even read that goddamn thing. All they do is give it to their assistants, ask for a summary and if it seems like a cliche novel which will get the author to earn money they say yes. The 2 critics who however don't seem to be agreeing with the 8 "learned and respect worthy" people are either a) not happy with the writing or b) not happy with the writer. Coming to my suggestions to Mr John Green. Keep it realistic old man. Your novels might be interesting for fifteen year old teenage girls desperate to lose their virginity to a popular jock or in this case, even an eighteen year old boy suffering from cancer having one leg but not to me. Give me something worth my time, not a story give me a real life incident and by that i do not mean a biography or autobiography because they are too much edited and fake for my poor heart to handle." By this time all eyes were on the Disrupting factor who had now climbed onto his chair as if he was President Snow from The Hunger Games giving a speech to all the tributes. " So Mrs. Pogens here is the answer to your question by this adolescent child who, if you might even want to know has passed by your house quite a couple times listening to the moans of your husband while you're at work, here. I suggest you might want to go home and check on how great your maid is at ahem making your beds."
Mrs Pogens' face held a very surprised expression and she looked as if she was on the verge of cracking the boy, her husbands' and her maids' skulls open and drinking tea in them. She didn't really throw an insult over at the adolescent child but rushed out of the library at once as most of the students laughed while some, out of shame went back to their books and studies. I, on the other hand was very much intrigued by this disruptor and so i did what any other normal 18 year old girl intrigued by a boy would do(according to me because clearly i had no friends) I stood up, walked three steps and sat down on the chair right next to the disruptor.
"You didn't really have to do that Drew. You know that poor woman already faces so much. She-" the companion stopped speaking as of realising he hadn't anything to tell.
"Go ahead complete that sentence dear Olace unless you don't really know about her life as much as i do, which im pretty sure im correct about." The disruptor mocked him.
"She works 12 hours a day at the library and the adoption care centre right down the street. She is incapable of being a mother and tries to find happiness with kids at the adoption centre. Her husband works at a brewery, earns 400 bucks in three months and he isn't cheating on her with the maid." I spoke. I didn't murmur nor mumbled but spoke in a lower tone so as to not make aware of my presence to the other students trying to study.
"According to my knowledge she works two hours at the bakery after hours too and she doesn't try to find happiness with the kids. She tries to forget the fact that her husband might never be able to experience the happiness of having a child because of her. As far as the cheating is concerned i vaguely remember the phrase "come on now Jimmel can't fuck your slave harder than your mistress" being spoken during one of the encounters." The disruptor's attention rested on my face as he spoke, quietly taking his time to observe my facial features.
"Its the laundry woman, has a kink of being called slave during sexual incounters. The bakery is a temporary job and don't try talking about happiness when you just broke out such a news to a 42 year old lady." I said and finally met his gaze. He wasn't what you'd call a perfect nerd or a Greek God. His face was quite nicely sculpted tho. Great jawline, good cheekbones. Probably worked out thrice a week at the local gym. His eyes were a mixture of aqua blue and mint green, very striking if you'd notice him from afar. His nose was a bit crooked, broken twice was my assumption and was covered by freckles which led to his pale cheeks with a beautiful highlighter covering them. I then noticed his small bean shaped ears being almost covered by a black coloured beanie. My observations were interrupted by his companion introducing himself.
"Hell yes! Finally someone who shut him up. It is a pleasure to meet you. I am Olace Stinger."
"Adria." I replied and pursed my lips. Olace was smiling very happily and that made me a bit uncomfortable.
"Adria. A name that stands for the simple yet so complicated word: dark. Tell me Adria, how many possibilities might stand of you having a cup of coffee with me at this bakery where Mrs Pogen works after hours?" The disruptor proposed.
"The possibilities Mr disruptor are quite low judging by the fact that it is already 5 pm and you go to work out at the gym at 6:30 pm?"
"Drew Delilah Sorentto and 6:25 pm. Quite right but I'd happily give up one day of exercising my guts out to maintain this physique which will not benefit me after 20 years at all. Now what might the possibility be?" He leaned forward as of trying to figure out my thoughts at the moment.
"Well the ball is in your field Mr Sorentto." I replied.
"Do you prefer walking or taking a cab Ms Adria _?"
"I like to observe my surroundings as i quietly make my way to the designated place and its just Adria." I stood up waiting for him to follow.
"Guess I'll have an eventful evening today, isn't that right Olace? I'll see you tomorrow." Drew said to his companion and he mumbled a small goodbye to us both.
"I cant promise you that Mr Sorentto. Lead the way."
YOU ARE READING
Let The Rain Talk
Romantizm• "If John Green's novel can state that his character smoked to die, and here I do refer to Alaska Young, why can't i? And to anyone who'll be contradicting me, no you idiots she didn't die because of smoking. It was the stupid 'act of love' that ca...
