Poisoned Star

Reason 4

I was eating alone because Marie is my only friend and she had a debate club meeting, which I didn't mind because I actually like eating alone once in a while. I sat in my favourite spot in the college's cafeteria, next to the window.

Usually, not many people would choose to sit there as there was too much sunlight. But I liked it. I could see the sky, my happy place.

I put on the wireless Bluetooth earpods that Alex just got for me a few days ago. I loved it. I could save the hassle of tangled earpods wire or hide my earpods by letting my hair down. I played EDEN, my all time favourite. Alex introduced him to me.

Listening to the arithmetic beat of the bass filled me with warmth. It flooded through my blood, almost changing the beat of my heart matching with its own. Figuratively, though. How I wish it'd be the real case.

The music and I have our own language, we speak to each other without words. The earpods split us apart from the normality of the world.

I had my favourite songs on, I had my favourite meal in front of me and I was alone next to a window where I can peacefully write. The most perfect escapism.

I took out my red leathered notebook where I write my poems or any random scribbles in it. The same situation I was in when I was writing this story about you in this black journal.

As I was swayed in my own world, I heard a chair across me being pulled and you sit in it and Grace pulled a chair next to me.

"Alison, why are you alone?" you asked me.

"Whoa! You write?" Grace tried to take my notebook from me. Luckily, I had a grip on it.

"No!" I gasped. "You can't read it." She wants to know what I'm doing. I'm giving her the "not now" look and shooing her with my hands but she has no intention of moving.

"You write, Al?" you asked me another question although I haven't answered your first question.

"No." I kept my notebook away. "I mean, kind of. But yeah. Where are you guys from?" I prompted a question to sway you guys away from my dark secret.

"Aw, I want to read it! Can I, please? Little sweet Alison?" Grace hugged me and put on her puppy eyes and pouty mouth.

"It's just trash," I admitted.

"Hey, hey. Never say that about your own writings okay. I know it must be good. Here, let me read it and be the judge." Whoa, you were persistent.

"Maybe not." I winked.

"You know what, it is like that. When we are creating arts, we always feel like the ideas or the arts itself are shitty or the worst when it's actually not. That happens because it's coming from our own mind, our own brain, that the ideas that we give is equivalent to the knowledge and ideas that are already registered in our mind."

"Yeah, I agreed!" Grace interrupted your wise moment. "It's like our minds are already bored and sick of the art that we did but the truth is, we are pouring ideas for the minds that are still searching for new creativity. Probably that's why we feel like it's not good but honestly, we'll never know until we let people see the art. Am I right, Ethan?"

"Correct."

I was in awe. Those words were beautiful and could be right.

"You guys are just kissing my ass so I will let you read my heart and feelings." I felt attacked.

You flashed a silly grin. Aw, how can I say no to those boo-boo eyes?

I put my red notebook in the middle of the table. "Maayyybe you can read it."