Bang Bang
The loud banging from his upstairs neighbours stirs the young man on the king-sized bed.
'Again…'
He sighed tiredly as he lazily stretched out of bed.
'Thankfully, they have been progressively quieter since one of their kids died. Hopefully, the rest of them will kick the bucket soon, if that apartment has a reputation of so many people dying in it, then it will be hard for the landlord to rent it out for a while. I should be able to get a consistent night's sleep for a good few months,' He prays in his heart, with his fingers crossed.
***
It was a quiet night, one like many others — if only a little colder.
The moonlight shone above a small park in which a male silhouette was walking through.
He was wearing a long black winter coat with a fur hood. The man looked quite tall, easily 6'0. He had black hair styled in a middle parting, with even darker obsidian eyes.
As he walked out of a tree's shade — the moonlight allowed for a clearer view of his features.
He was a young man, no more than 19 years old. He held a solemn expression almost listless, his eyes wandering to the starry night sky for a moment before turning his attention forward to the upcoming bench.
Taking a seat on the bench, he gazes at the lake that reflected the starry sky. On the other side of the lake, was a large white tree, upon one of its branches, was a pair of black boots tied onto the branch by the shoe laces.
He leans back on the bench, closing his eyes and enjoying the quiet coldness of the night.
Step Step
The young man hears the sound of approaching footsteps, he opens his eyes to see an old man taking a seat next to him.
The old man had a full beard and a muscular stature that reflected a small part of the vigour he possessed in his prime.
In his hand was a strange item that looked like a rope with a small metal clip.
"You look troubled, kid," The old man said, he had a rough voice with a deep Texas accent — a calm smile on his face as he pulled out a cigar from his pocket.
The old man was met with silence for a good while before the young man sighed.
"Give me some wisdom, old man. I really think I need it right about now,"
The old man chuckles at his words, "Oh, I'm not all that wise. But I'm certainly old,"
There was a comfortable silence on the bench, both men appreciating the calmness of the night.
"Are you lost?" The old man asks.
"Giovanni National Park," The young man answers with a deadpan expression, to which the old man responds with a smile.
"You know that's not what I meant." He responds, giving a deep look to the young man.
"I feel…Off…Like I'm running out of time. For what exactly, I'm not even sure.,"
The old man stays silent at the young mans words, for a few moments.
"What's your name, kid?"
The young man was getting slightly irritated at continuously being called kid, but he understood that most old people would see someone under 30 and think of them as a kid.
"Kyle," The young man, now known as Kyle, finally responds.
"Listen, Kyle. I'm going to tell you something that may seem to be the complete opposite of what you have been told, your entire life. But let me tell you something else—It's the truth.
"You don't have to have it all together, ya' ain't gotta' have it all figured out,"
Kyle turns to the old man with a deadpan expression.
"The hell kind of advice is that?"
The old man smiles in amusement as if he expected this kind of response.
"Young men, like you — are told by society these days that you gotta' have everything figured out by the time you're in your mid-twenties. Graduate, have a degree, be married, and have a decent well-paying job. And have it all together.
"And these movies and social media don't help with that kind of mindset. You see the perfect lives of these people who don't go through the everyday struggles that you do,"
Kyle stays silent as the old man takes a puff of his cigar.
"You see these movies, what are they? Not even two hours long. And you watch as this guy goes from a goofed-up teenager to someone that is just perfectly at peace. They get the job, they put the childhood bully in their place, they get the girl of their dreams and roll the credits. The rest of their lives are up to our imagination,"
"' Comparison is the theft of joy', right?" Kyle mutters an old quote, the old man's words reminding him of it.
The old man continues as if he didn't hear Kyle's muttering.
"Of course, when you get out of the cinema, and you go back home to your ordinary life. You turn on the TV and watch the news. You see those same actors, getting into all these lawsuits and divorces and drama. And you realise, that was all it was. Fiction."
The old man takes another puff of his cigar.
"A pine tree, grows and matures quickly. An oak tree, grows and matures very very slow. But which one lasts longer? And which one is stronger? Which one shelters more life?
"Which one, when it's all said and done, which one is more valuable — for the lumber?"
"I don-An oak tree? I guess…"
"That's right, Kyle,"
The old man pats Kyle on the shoulder.
"People don't go out and say, 'I'm 'bout to go and splurge on some pine furniture.' No, they want oak furniture."
The old man takes another puff, as he points at the tree that Kyle mentally dubbed 'The Shoe Tree.'
"You see that tree over there. That was where I met my late wife, Martha." The old man says, with a nostalgic smile as he reminisces about that day — so many years ago.
"It's a funny story actually. I was trying to get her attention, while also trying to act like I weren't staring at her — so I acted like I was doing something important at that tree, and I accidentally ended up tying my shoes on a branch. I don't know what I did or how I tied the knot, 'cause for the life of me I couldn't untie it without cutting apart the laces.
"Eventually, after making a fool of myself. Martha came up to me and tried to help, but neither of us could get the damn things down,"
He chuckles with mirth, but the deep sadness in his eyes could not be hidden.
"Anyway, she gave me a ride home. And the rest is history, we were married for 50 years," The old man smiles as he finishes his story, a gleam could be seen in his eyes. As if he was reliving 50 years of happiness.
There was a comfortable silence for a few minutes. Eventually, the old man turned to Kyle with a serious expression.
"A smooth sea never made a tough sailor. You will encounter a lot of troubles in your life, Kyle. I won't lie and say that they won't break you — 'cause they will. But if you can build yourself back up, then you will have lived a life to be proud of,"
The old man stands up after he finishes speaking, he begins to walk away before stopping as Kyle asks him one final question.
"What is your name, old man?"
The old man smiles at the question, twirling the object in his fingers — only then does Kyle realise that it is a dog leash.
However, he doesn't see a dog anywhere.
"The names Darryl. It was nice talking to ya', Kyle.
"And always remember, your worth is what you make it," Darryl says, taking his leave.
'Not wise, my ass,' Kyle thought with a scoff.
***
Kyle ended his night with a long, aimless drive through the rain, the steady pulse of club music filling the silence. The neon lights of the city blurred against the windshield, distorted by the downpour, yet he barely registered them.
When he finally stepped into his apartment, he sighed deeply, hanging his coat with slow, deliberate movements
He walks over to the balcony, gazing at the night city view. The city stretched out before him, its endless glow stirring a feeling that he couldn't quite explain.
Taking a seat on the outdoor lounge chair, while turning on soft jazz music — he leans back. The mix of the music and the rain creates a melody that touches a specific part of his soul.
'I like to sit out here sometimes. I have a habit of mixing memories with music, so when I listen to music — the memory associated with it plays in my mind like a movie,' Kyle narrates in his mind — he is not sure to who. Perhaps his future self who will revisit this memory, on a night just like this.
Kyle basks in the nostalgic feeling, as he sits on the balcony for hours — his eyes closed in a serene expression.
_______________________________
Author Note
Hello there, I am LordWuYu. Hope you enjoyed my first prologue chapter.
This is my first story, so I would appreciate any constructive criticism you can give.
This prologue is a bit different from the usual action-packed opening that I have seen so much. I wanted to kind of, set the tone with a mix of introspection and atmosphere, but don't worry because there will be more action than you can get enough of soon enough, that's a promise.
Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed it.
Side note, you should read this while listening to some music. I was listening to Tory Lanez- Lavender Sunflower on repeat while writing this. So I recommend that or some songs by The Weeknd. Both are great. (My personal taste.)
If you have any ideas or advice you wish to provide, please do so in the chapter comments and/or Author Notes just like this.
I have thought about making a story like this for a while, I have a lot of ideas for this story and I don't plan on dropping it. So be patient and stay with this story and read the life of my characters to the end.
Not completely certain about the upload schedule just yet, but I will try and make it at least one chapter per week.
Also, I'm thinking of setting up a Patreon, but I'm not sure how that would really work. Still looking into it. Maybe I will post some future character illustrations. But, we'll just see how it goes. Future me can deal with my problems, I think that's a healthy mindset.
And Finally...Have a good day. And in case I don't see ya, good afternoon, good evening and goodnight.
(If you get that reference, you are blessed.}
And thus, I bid thee farewell.
;)