*If you are way to intrigued to read this go ahead to the empty circles. But please read this though.
A/N: Guys, I just wanted to say you're amazing. I found out a while ago that there are tonnes of books with the same title as this one and they made me feel as if the story isn't special. I was totally discouraged and it made me lose that feeling that you can be somebody, you know. But I check my book a few days later, and find it has a frickin' 199 reads!!! It really made me feel way better, like I'm not a failure after all. And that even though the nerd meets jock cliche is stale, I feel like when times pass, I'll edit the book and make it even better than ever.
Okay, in short. I love you guys. And I love Keia and Cyrus so I couldn't leave them to swirl in a drift of sadness.
This chapter goes out to MkaraboM because she's been reading this and she really is an extremely kind and amazing person.
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Third Person
After a week of recovery, Keia was healthy enough to be discharged. Cyrus was waiting for this moment. He was determined to make her life worth living.
He showed up at Keia's door one day with a pizza and knocked.
"Who is it?"
" Pizza delivery, "he said, disguising his voice.
" I didn't order any pizza, " she said back.
"From your friend."
She opened the door after asking, "Which friend?"
There was Cyrus smiling like fool at her disgruntled state: her hair was a mess, she had bags under her eyes and was wearing a pair of pjama shorts and a pink t-shirt with pigs on them.
She instantly widened her eyes when she saw Cyrus and blushed.
"Cyrus?" She hid her lower half instinctively behind the door. He let himself in.
She continued to feel shy in her short shorts.
He took a look around and found the place messier than usual. There were countless loose DVDs on the fluffy rug in her living room and fleece blankets of different colours haphazardly placed on the furniture. Popcorn spilt on the hardwood tiles. He climbed up to her balcony bedroom and it was just as bad with blankets draped over the railing and books on the floor.
"Damn, girl. It looks like a terrorist attack happened in here."
She slowly climbed up behind him.
"Yeah, something like that. What are you doing here, Cy?"
He sat on the bed and opened the pizza box.
"What, I can't come to see my girlfriend uninvited?" He raised an eyebrow at her.
"Not this early," she said yawning.
" Early? You are aware it's past one in the afternoon, right? "
"Yeah, yeah."
She walked around, picking up books. Cyrus was silent behind her. She started wondering why he wasn't saying anything. She picked up another before quickly turning around to catch him staring at her. He immediately looked away.
"Would you stop staring at me?"
" Why? "
"You're making me feel like I can't bend over around you," she replied. "Especially with you staring at my butt."
"Why are you always so worried about people seeing you?"
"It's just..different. I'm not that pretty and I find it embarrassing because my mom was beautiful but I don't look that much like her," she replied crossing her arms and rubbing her shoulders.
"You shouldn't care what people think, whether they think you're pretty or not. You shouldn't compare yourself either, otherwise you'll never think you're pretty," he tugged on her hand and pulled her to sit down on the bed with her. Then he took a piece of the hair that was falling in front of her face and tucked it behind her ear.
"And if it helps, I think you're gorgeous."
She laughed. "Now that's just cheesy."
Why does she try so hard to say something witty just to block how vulnerable I just made her feel?
"Speaking of cheese," he lifted a slice from the box and brought it to her mouth. She took a bit of it and kept the slice.
"Glad you're feeling better," he said.
" Why do you sound like you're about to ask me something I will most certainly refuse? "
"Because, I want us to celebrate you still being alive." He stood up.
I can't have people see me like this. What will they see me as? A psycho? Any more of an alien than I already am. I can't.
She widened her eyes and slowly stepped away. Her heart felt like a stone, sinking down in her chest, slowly but vulnerably. The way she looked only annoyed Cyrus, a quality he has been trying to suppress for years. Along with all the other emotions and traits his father left in him.
Like anger. Like disgust. Sarcasm. Hate. The very being of being useless.
Keia was being such a hopeless cause. She was wasting his time and he knew it. He missed several practice sessions because of her arrogant idea of trying to end herself.
There was a conflict in the brain of our boy. He felt like he loved her. He wasn't completely sure before. It was an assumption. A self diagnosis for the illness that infected him. Every time he heard her laugh, saw her smile, felt her touch, it brought an epic sensation into his blood stream.
But another side was saying she is just going to be a dead weight. Clearly, she was messed up. Hell, he was pretty messed up himself. But she felt beyond repair. He didn't know if he was even meant to repair her. It was like he was given a dying kitten to look after. He didn't know what illed it. And he didn't know where, why and how to dispose of it.
Life was so much easier when he only cared about himself. When he could just chump things out. Be the puppet of the fellow stringed ones he lived with. Go with the flow and not to think too hard about his pain. He could just push it down.
And now Keia was making him change. He knew it was a good thing. Like it was the best for him. Maybe he could delete the messed up ness in him if he was a little less selfless and fell into another world.
Little did he know, once you've fallen into her world, there's no escape word to save you from the inevitable turmoil inside.
"I don't wanna go anywhere, Cyrus," she whined.
" But you can't stay cooped up in here. "
"Cyrus, I've got work today."
"Then skip it," he said as if it's that easy.
"Cyrus, I can't lose my job."
"Yes you can, then I can pay for everything, food, rent..."
" Now you're acting crazy. "
"No I'm not. Then you can be a carefree teenager like you're supposed to be."
" Cyrus, I can't accept your money. "
"Why not?"
" Because! I don't wanna be dependant on anyone. I like it this way. It would against everything I believed in and worked for if I let you fund my life while I sit still and look pretty. That's not the kind of person I am. "
"But-" she put a finger on his lips.
"I'm going to work today, and there's nothing you can or do to stop me."
"Okay, fine. What time do end?"
" Six thirty. "
"Meet me here at seven, I have somewhere I wanna take you."
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...
