Reality Check (G/t)

1 [g]

 "They're looking at me again."

Piercing through the whatever the hell rock music playing in my headphones that I'm using to get through this essay, Serenity's voice reaches me. If I hadn't heard exactly what she said, I would've thought she was just a random female vocal suddenly appearing on the song. But, she's been saying that for months. How is there still a problem? There can't still be a problem.

Without pausing my typing or looking at her, I maintain my construction of unnecessarily elaborate sentences on my laptop screen. This can't be as serious as she's making it out to be. However, I acknowledge her by saying, "I'm sure it's nothing. Don't worry about it."

I feel the doll-sized girl- no, woman shift on my abdomen, perhaps attempting to climb me... again, so I keep still, letting her do as she pleases. Meanwhile, she continues speaking, annoyed. "But... but they have those looks again. They never have them when I'm around them or when you're at school or something... Only when I'm with you."

I notice the faltering in her voice, knowing that she's obviously being affected by it. "Ren, please. It's nothing. After all, they should know that this is PART OF THE TRANSITION and NOTHING PERSONAL." I know none of these girls like whenever I raise my voice, but when we go through the same nonsense nearly every day, it's rather annoying. Then again, I probably should've expected that from a gaggle of girls at the hands of a singular guy. Man, that sounds a lot worse than what it really is... well, how it is now. It was pretty bad before. I just had to let them hear me once again, wherever they were in my room.

"A-Actually, isn't this as p-personal as it could possibly be?" Serenity counters, obviously shaken by my slight temper, now in my peripheral vision on my chest. "You had them way before you had me. After that friend of yours introduced you to them - Tony, right? - you all kind of... latched, together for a good amount of years." Yes, but I'm not proud of it. "I bet they're not liking their distance from you. They may even be jealous."

I know that she's trying to be considerate, but I'm the one with the problem, and it was their- uh, it's not totally their fault. I probably shouldn't have caved in so hard, in the first place. Still, "I'm only trying to fix myself by doing what I was told, and if a bit of separation is necessary to do so, then I'll see it through. If you and I weren't the only ones trying to make a change, then maybe there could be some more interaction like before. I'm NOT letting myself go down that route again."

I was on a roll with my words for the paper, somehow making two actually-solid (in my opinion) paragraphs in less than a minute, but I stop on a dime when I feel the little lady reach my head, scaling the side of my headset to hang off the top. I bet the increased bass is shaking her inside and out, but she's not commenting about it, so I guess it's not an issue. Yet, I can't help but feel as if she wants to comment on something else. She's usually not so... hyped as she seems to be right now. What's up with that?