Miles Away

Chapter 5

Fun 

: someone or something that is amusing or enjoyable : an enjoyable experience or person 

: an enjoyable or amusing time 

: the feeling of being amused or entertained

October 4, 2013 

Rue Sainte Croix de la Bretonnerie (Paris)  

Philippe sits immobile on his chair staring at the blank laptop screen, his mind wandering somewhere out of reach of my comprehension or hypothesis as a third person narrating this chapter. His eyes were pale cerulean, his eye bags swallowing the beautiful pair of gem losing its shine. His shoulders slouched and his face owned a blank frown.  

"I am unhappy am I?" He asks his screen. 

"Maybe I should just come home to Switzerland, for a break?" He asks his screen once again.  

Philippe's right hand travels slowly to his chin, scratching the imaginary itch feeling down to his neck.  

"Stress damages the neurons. I am stressed therefore my neurons are damaged, partially? I don't know. Why am I talking to a blank screen? Really?" Philippe tilts his head to the left and sigh. When he first moved to France, he knew everything will be going well according to his plans for his future, he was confident of himself, he knew that in no time he'd be graduating, spend 3 years traveling then probably write about his travels, get a master's degree, travel, write a book and so on of the life he once clearly pictured but now a blur because he does feel awfully tired day by day as if working hard to gain knowledge slowly kills him. It was the endless work, the endless debates, the sleepless nights, the idea he need write that kept him up every single night, the feeling of getting there and still isn't, that's what depresses him.  

Philippe involuntarily gets his phone out of his pocket, closes the laptop and walks out of his balcony and dials Lyndon's cell.  

1st call, no answer. 

2nd call, no answer. 

3rd call, no answer. 

4th call, Lyndon picks up, loud music plays in the background and Philippe distances his phone away from his ear in sudden frustration.  

"Ey it's the frowning dragon! I'm- uhm.." Lyndon pauses and sushes someone from the other line and a female giggle answers Lyndon. 

"Frowning dragon?" Philippe asks although knowing it must be him. 

"Yes, Philippe Vincent Comstock our very own frowning dragon yes?" Lyndon asks and Philippe rolls his eyes fighting the urge to end the stupid call he started. 

"Get me in THERE." Philippe tells Lyndon with much authority in his voice and Lyndon gasps. 

"You? Here? This is a place for electrified creatures not a frowning dragon like you." Lyndon laughs, in a normal day he wouldn't be even able to say these things to Philippe but since he was intoxicated he lost all the fear and doubt towards the dragon. 

"I don't 'ave to be electrified or so like what you're trying to tell me. I just need-" 

"LIFE. MUSIC. DRINKS. GIRLS. SEX. DRUGS?"  

"No not drugs Lyndon just maybe some-" 

"Yes fun?" 

"Whatever that is, yes." 

"I will text you the address. Don't dress up like a Leonardo de Caprio , just come here like you're a normal teenager." Lyndon reminds him before hanging up.