"And I said, 'That's not a Volvo FH16 64 Tractor Rear Air FH64 T6HA, that's my wife!'" Comedy? Boring. Click.
"—Furthermore, the graduation rate in Finland is 13% higher than that of the United States—though the GDP amounts to just 1% of America. How do you explain this?" Politics? Boring. Click.
"—Call now for not one, but TWO XPress Turbo Transmissions for the low price of three payments of $49.99 before our offer ends!" Commercials? Boring. Click.
He turned off the television, looked at his reflection, then continued working on his narrative. Well, he continued staring at his blank narrative, but those are essentially the same thing in the eyes of a procrastinator. On the day of his birth, Mr. Work-Ethic decided not to show up to bless the child's young mind and instead enjoy the only Monday he had off that month. I certainly don't blame him—who would work on a day you don't have to work?—but, man, did Enzo curse himself and his procrastinating tendencies. He was void of any type of productivity, so much so that he'd rather sit and do nothing than literally anything, with anyone. His M.O., "Only do something unwillingly if there is no alternative," is one that mainly sociopaths live by. Enzo wasn't crazy. It just so happens that everyone thought he was, a.k.a. the closest thing to being mentally insane. Precisely one other person can put up with this type of behavior on a daily basis: his giga-friend Kyra.
Believe it or not, there are benefits to having this odd personality. For one, Enzo is unaffected by peer pressure. He has no need for social interaction, so he doesn't socially interact. And despite this barrier separating him from like eight billion people, the man's very approachable. After all, a lack of rudeness, interest, apathy, and perfection are culinary ingredients for the recipe of a perfect school-friend-substitute (e.g. when you and another conversate due to not recognizing anyone else but each other within a one hundred feet radius—that's a school-friend-substitute). Nothing more, nothing less. The only exception is, well, Kyra of course! Almost instantly, the two clicked like neodymium magnets; a mega extrovert combined with a mysterious human make one of the best types of friendship, and that's a fact. Always together, except for when they weren't. Never left each other's minds, except for when they did. Sometimes neither.
Sometimes both.
Sometime later the duo linked up to do some bonding activities, as per usual. Walked around Central, examined the trillions of stars stuck in the midnight sky through her personal telescope, spent time together. Together was different for Enzo. For someone who sat through his classes for seven hours without saying more than 50 words (repeats included!), it's kinda awkward saying thirty times that amount in less than half that time. Awkward doesn't mean unwanted, though. This change of pace was probably a welcome one for both, but who am I to look unto this with such little depth? Before they departed Kyra handed him a little gift, a nice gesture.
"Thanks. Had I known, I would've gotten you something as well," breathed Enzo with slight emotion. Surprise was a huge factor in his response. He'd never received a present in his life.
Kyra stared, huge brown eyes judging his character, "It's okay. I hate you anyways." She disappeared into the night, partly due to the figurative and bleak shadows entangling Enzo's mind, while he kinda just stood there, contemplating what just happened. Second thing he did was go home. He placed the haunting gift on his desk and contacted me right away. I think.
"Since you have friends, how would you feel if they just dipped?" At the time I was pretty indifferent about the question. With context, though, I can see where he's coming from. I've never met Kyra—I haven't even met Enzo yet, at least physically—but that was quite the double-edged sword she just lodged down his throat. Told him some personal stories, let him know that he was not alone! Just kidding. Enzo hates cliches, so I told him the truth. Told him that being alone was my worst fear, that being left behind is a feeling you can never forget, that death was a preferable alternative to the horrors of the lonely self. And then I told him that he might want to open the present. Didn't want to hold his hand through this journey of self-discovery, so I got off my computer and went to sleep. The monitor blanked out, forcing my reflection to peer into my soul. I did the right thing. I think.
Enzo picked up the little box. The tag on it had a smiley face, taunting him and his broken mentality. He sat there for a hot minute trying to figure out what Kyra bestowed. Was it a cool load of cash, used to cut ties and repay the false friendship they nurtured for the past four years? Maybe it was full of crude coconut oil, there to ruin the scent of his bedroom for the next 3-5 weeks? Perhaps it was a microbomb, sent to wipe Enzo violently off the face of the planet? His dainty hands got too shaky and accidentally dropped the box.
Stood there, petrified, waiting for the noxious gas to sweep through his house, but to no avail. He swiped the box off the gift itself: a single polaroid probably taken from Kyra's camera (currently in the store for lens repairs), a cutesy necklace with a tiny amethyst, and a note. Naturally, Enzo unfolded the paper and read the beautiful calligraphy:
Sorry for freaking you out today! I just love seeing emotion on your face, but the only time it shows is when something surprises you! You probably don't realize, but we met each other on this day, four years ago. It's crazy how time flies, huh? It's okay of you don't forgive me right away, but wear the necklace when you do. Not only will we be matching, but I'll also know that you won't ignore me when I talk to you! And when you finish that narrative, I'll guarantee that it'll win the contest; that's a promise~! Love, Kyra (your giga-friend!)
Enzo couldn't suppress the sad grin which appeared from nowhere (it might've been the first time he smiled in years). His chest felt all warm and tingly and he couldn't stop smiling. He inspected the polaroid. It was a really old picture of the two, back when they first met, with Kyra's huge grin in said polaroid matching that of Enzo's at that moment. He chose to put the necklace on and forgive her instantly. After all, who could be mad at such a precious moment as that? The wild emotional rollercoaster put a strain on his cerebral, so Enzo curled his legs in, hugged the nearest pillow, and fell asleep without even taking off the necklace.
The next day, Enzo thought of what she wrote earlier for a brief moment then continued staring at his blank narrative. Well, he continued working on it, but they are essentially the same thing in the eyes of a procrastinator.
