Third person's POV
Song: Rewrite The Stars by James Arthur. From the Greatest Showman. (I adore that movie)
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Cyrus opened his eyes to see a conflicted faced Keia with her head held to the side. He felt slightly embarrassed and angry by this rejection. Right when he felt he needed her most.
"I-I I'm sorry, I sho-"
"It's not what you did," Keia replied. She sighed and turned around to give her back to Cyrus. She was still wearing her dirty pink tank top and leggings which were torn. Her hair was still loose, revealing the tattoo she had decided to hide that was in the middle of her scalp. It was in gold ink so it was noticeable if you looked at her hair.
She folded her arms and rubbed her shoulders nervously.
"It's just... You don't want me, Cyrus. I'm lonely, selfish, crazy even. I live alone in this new style apartment owned by my sort of ex best friend. I have weird tendencies where I forget how to speak. All in all," she turned back to face him. "I'm just a low spirited orphan. I have no personality. Just a sad, sad kid who doesn't fit in."
He breathed in and shut off his brain. He let his mouth take control and say what they deemed fit.
"You don't know anything about me, Keia. You may think otherwise but I don't fit in either."
" Please, " she said sarcastically. "How could you possibly not fit in? You're Cyrus Templeton. Son of the Jameson Templeton, city salesman. Your family owns hotels and houses and malls and schools. Practically half the city. Okay, let's put that aside because your family doesn't define you. You drive a good damn Ferrari. You swim like some-some inhuman thing I can't even think up right now!"
"You know, saying it in an angry voice doesn't make it any less of a compliment," Cyrus interrupted to lighten the mood.
"Shut up and let me finish. You have friends who think you're great company, girls who would fawn over you. You are somebody, Cyrus. Do you know I can tell? When I decide that someone is somebody, I look at what it would be like if you died, how would people feel? They would be silence in the halls, Cyrus. There would be a huge funeral. There would be news reports and those big cards and teddy bears on your grave like an alter thingies. People would care-"
"Keia.."
"Let me finish. People would remember you and would pray for your soul in numbers. They would be photos of you stuffed in your old locker, Facebook pages where people will honour your memory. Your old trophies would be kept in a golden trophy cabinet under lock and key to keep your legacy safe..." She was sobbing now.
"Keia...this isn't about me anymore, is it?"
"No." she managed to say between a sob. She was still sitting in front of him.
"It's about you, isn't it." He stated.
"Bottom line is, people love you. People care about whether you exist or not. People like you shouldn't be with people like me. Not because of what people think, because... I could ruin your life."
"You can't ruin my life, Keia."
"Take a look at what I have managed to cause in the past twelve hours. If I wasn't so helpless and waited until I got home to kill myself, you wouldn't have gone through all this hell."
Keia's words came as a shock to Cyrus, bringing a new emotion to the conversation: worry.
He reached out to hold her shoulder with his one good arm and make her look him in the eye.
"Keia..You were..were going to kill..yourself?"
He felt himself go pale.
Keia held her head to the side and didn't answer. He grabbed her chin with more force then he meant to, making her look back into his eyes.
YOU ARE READING
Beautiful People
Teen Fiction"There's a world beyond being rich, famous and popular," he told me. I never believed him. Yeah sure, he could pretend like he wasn't a part of that world. Like he had no relationship with wealth and easy life. He told me he wasn't fased by all tho...
