My Mania Ended The World Peace. ★

⋆ 7 ⋆

That almost seemed kinda funny to him, overwhelmingly so. His body felt like it was caught in a prick of ice; movements reduced to robot like gestures and stalling thoughts.

And only slowly did he realise what had happened while his mind was off somewhere else. Apparently he'd managed to stop just in time before the worst could've happened, but it was still enough to set everyone off; especially a man from the obsidian Porsche before him. He left the curvy door behind him as he came over to shout at Adrian. Adrian almost didn't notice him because everything else kept him distracted, especially his throwback to elementary school.

That name, though, Hooed. Hyde should've just accepted Bonnie, or Bonus, that'd be less awkward to explain.

'Hey, you! You're driving around without a license? What the hells gotten into you?' The Porsche guy bark cut through the honks like a shout in a desert, which instantly made Adrian feel bad about himself because he was one of those men whose clever faces and sharp haircuts gave you the illusion of authority, all based on their good looks. His name must be Chad, yeah, he was probably a Chad.

'I don't know.' Adrian's voice barely made a sound in the tumult.

'I don't know—so you're just brainless and crazy without a cause?'

'DUUUHHHHH' Droned the car behind them. Adrian repeated that in a lower volume, 'Duh.'

'Oh, just duh then? Right, I have two kids in the back and you think it's funny to attempt that bullshitt in public and be a danger to everyone involved? Still just duh?'

Chad slapped his flat palm against his tight but fitting dress pants. Everything about him was tight and right, like those guys in Men's Health magazines. 'You can do that nonsense at home, steal your dad's gun whatever, but at least spare the ones who want to live, especially my two daughters!'

'How old are they?' Adrian asked as if they were having a coffee and not an argument after nearly bumping rears. His voice was shaky and fade-away-sounding nevertheless.

The man was about to leave but halfway there he swerved back around, tearing his hand away from the back of his head to gesticulate with it in the green shine of the traffic lights overhead. '10! 8! Great timing for such silly questions, don't you think?'

Adrian had stopped thinking long ago. His ears felt like two open windows that brought a draft through his head and swooped some thoughts away with it—all thoughts. His head was a clean vacuum, the next answer the consequence of it, 'Well, how do you know they don't wanna die.' He asked curtly.

By now the man looked like he wanted to rip Adrian's head the other way, and Adrian didn't blame him but he felt all electric with irritation himself. His hands were trembling to put themselves into a better use than simply holding things.

'Because they don't!'

'I wanted to die since I was 10,' Adrian stated that like this guy was his father and at fault for his dark wish all along.

'Then start from here!' The man jabbed his fingers inside his slim chest pocket. They came back out with a pack of reds, which he threw towards Adrian. Adrian caught them clumsily by slapping his hands to where they fell—on his crotch.

'Thank you very much!' Chad continued shouting, he was still sounding angry but there was a strange humour in his voice too. 'Now you've got me to drop a habit and enjoy my monotone life!'

Adrian was still holding onto the reds when Chad turned his back to him. And that was it with the attention towards Adrian, but at least he still got some from the middle finger which never left Adrian until Chad safely sat into the front seat. And even then he only traced the finger back to himself as he slapped the door shut after himself. The finger poked out a last time from the window, then he drove off, blaring into drive.

That was the last time Adrian saw him, the finger, not Chad, because when he saw that dude the next time he seemed less aggravated, even a little nice if not rushed.

On Friday He was rushing up the slope towards Brooklyn high, a leather book bag pressed to his hip and had his sleeves rolled up, so the silver watch showed nicely on his wrist.

For a while Adrian just followed him by walking by the white-stoned path surrounding the school but when Chad got closer to him Adrian jumped in his path. Chad almost dropped his book bag as his arm flinched but just in time he used the other arm to clutch it to his chest. 'Jesus H. Christ!' He cursed, taking a step back. 'You really got me there—Hey, you're the boy from the near collision on Atta, aren't you? You're full of jump-scares, are you?'

Atta as in Atlantic Ave? Wow, he didn't even realise that this was how far he drove out on his lend motorcycle from Union Street.

'Well, to my mom mostly. Whenever she opens the mail the school sends to her she gets that face.' Adrian nodded at Chad's current expression which was two shades lighter than white. Yep.

'You're a student from here?'

'Was.' Adrian said, almost proudly.

Chad thought for a moment with a serious expression and when his skin turned back to a healthier colour he managed a smirk. 'I see then why you'd wanted to throw in the towel the other day. Dropping out's tough, huh? Not as badass as all those movies would like you to think?'

Adrian pressed his lips together and smiled widely as an answer, his eyes squinting up against the slip of sunshine that drenched over his face. Chad laughed once flatly, then he patted Adrian's shoulder all teacherly, it was almost like Adrian didn't nearly ruin the butt of his black Porsche just the other day.

'Well, I've gotta get back to work then—or rather, start working, I'm not working right now, you see—But if you want, Mr Yandise, the school counsellor. You can ring up by my door any time, talk about those thoughts?'

'Yeah, I probably won't come.'

'Your choice, buddy.' At the top of the landing, he turned around one last time, the hem of his blazer flapping in the breeze, and saluted away.

When the school bang drilled through the school building and echoed out of the long doors, Adrian sought out a more deserted place by the basketball courts. He sat up against the pole of the basketball hoop and took out the pack of reds, shaking out two cigarettes.

He resumed turning his lungs into ash trays, sitting there like a bum with his legs wildly outstretched, the tip of his sneakers showing lazily towards the sky. After he lit both of them he used one cigarette to blow smoke from as it was traditional while he repurposed the other to scribble something onto the rubber ground.

The smoke was belching out of his lips, wandering over his black shirt so he was probably going to smell of it later once it seemed into the fabric. He flicked the second cigarette away and titled his head, looking at the new sooty lines on the auburn ground.

That was fine, probably not the best way to show you're grateful for filling your brain up over all these years to make a useful person out of you, and he probably wasn't even that grateful because school seriously? Who's even grateful for something everyone gets? But yeah,

THX for the 1X+2