"I will fucking go. You'll see."
Hearing the growl, several groans popped up.
"Loki ain't your mouth running a bit too much? Why don't you suckle on my thing, it'll keep you outta your guttar head."
Loki bared his teeth, with his green eyes, he resembled a furious cat, "I'd even suck one or two if it gets me outta this damn country."
Before his mouth could even close properly the flash of a camera drooped his jaw.
"Keke! 31st of December, 2034, esteemed Loki's honourable words."
Heat rushed to Loki's ears as his fist shot toward Froster, "You suck on my fist, Rent Boy."
Before his fist could pummel Froster along with his purple-rimmed round glasses, Allen caught it in his palm while still typing away on his phone with a slight furrow on his brows.
Seeing his friends banter as usual, Santy's chest tightened. It wasn't the typical kinda of usual... it was a very familiar 'usual'.
His eyes scanned the faces of the students huddled together as they discussed their evening plans while making way to their homes.
Before even speaking, he knew the exact tone and words that would come out of his mouth, along with the reactions of his friends.
"What's tonight's plan?" His eyes fell onto the red-faced Loki, the cheeky Foster and the group's sole sense of reason, Allen, as he frantically typed away on his phone—
"...GET YOUR ASS OUTTA YOUR GIRL, ALLEN!" Santy snapped.
"H-huh!?" Allen's eyes jumped to Santy before returning to his screen with a deeper frown, "Merry is with her friends. I'm not texting her."
The feeling was indescribable. It was like reading that one question in a test that you recognised and felt confident about... only for when you got to it that you realised that you couldn't pen a single word.
Santy knew what he was gonna do. How they would respond and what he would think of their responses in advance. Yet against all reasons, he neither did anything opposed to what he knew would happen. Nor did his body listen to such a command.
Almost as if... he was reliving the past through predestined memories. To the point that even his thoughts were all thought-out in his head beforehand. It was far beyond weird.
Then there was that thing... the feeling of being overridden by the 'Santy' that didn't know what would happen next. It wasn't forceful, nothing bad, just mixing him in the background and making the experience kind of fresh.
"Then what are you doing?" Foster peeked at Allen's screen with a 'know-you-are-lying' smirk.
Allen growled and flipped his phone off, "Fuck off, Rent Boy!"
"Humph!" Loki snorted, eyeing Foster with the intent to chew him up, "Delete that pic you piss-bastard."
Foster rolled his eyes, "I didn't take a pic, piss-brain!"
"He recorded a video," Santy chortled under his breath before hurriedly saying, "What's tonight's plan?"
"Oh!" Allen gasped, his expression churning, "Um... I'm sorry, I won't be able to come tonight."
"Huh?? Why?" Foster's large glasses slipped, which he hurriedly pushed back up.
Allen's face twisted into a snarl, "House-arrest... my brother's back."
"What?" Loki's face turned. Before he spoke with a deeper frown, "Sneak away. Ain't like you never done it before."
"Nuh-uh!" Allen shook his head, "No go. Sorry, you know its not possible."
Santy eyed Loki and Foster, his eyes threaded by a sense of lose. "Guess it will be us three?"
"It won't be as fun without the all of us." Foster muttered bitterly.
Loki drummed his teeth together. His gaze stuck to Allen. Santy knew the brute wanted to tie him up and take him home.
Allen saw the mood, his face falling, "I really can't help it... also, why not we just idlly on video chat tonight?"
Froster threw him a gaze. The words lingering. While Santy laughed a little at the joke.
Loki gargled his saliva before spitting at the college's gate. "Okay, let's go."
Santy watched the trio move, his eyes fell back to the college building which he unknowingly greeted with a smile.
The last day of the year. He had made so many memories. It was filled with an air of mischief and chaos with his three childhood friends by his side.
He couldn't help but draw his gaze to the sky, just catching sight of a flock of birds whistling past.
The next quarter year would be their last in college. Afterwards, who knows where they all would end up at.
Shaking his head, he jogged ahead. Catching Loki whispering to himself as he joined the group.
"Trash second-world country, doesn't even give a new-year's off. I will definitely leave this shit country one day."
Santy shook his head hearing the same words for the nth time. Loki would always complain about everything that restricted him from freeloading and enjoying himself.
The air back was a bit somber. Maybe because of Allen.
Froster soon cut off from the group to a different path, forcing a smile about making tonight fun. While Allen too a bit after. Then the air turned kinda awkward.
Loki was musing and fuming on his own. His gait a big trudging.
It wasn't like Loki and him didn't hit off as well. In fact, Loki could carry a conversation all on his own with just about anybody. But with him pissed off, there was hardly much to do.
Santy loosened a breath. His eyes wandering to the sky.
Then suddenly, his eyes jolted. 'Oh shit, that homeroom teacher said he would call home, didn't he? Since I didn't get mother's signature on that fat ass zero.'
'Aah... she's gonna chew me up on new year.' His pace unknowingly dropped a peg. His eyes flickering timidly.
'Study... I just don't get the idea of why should I work myself to the bone only to be bought later on by somebody who hasn't studied half as much as me??' A sigh escaped his lips.
'There are four months from finals... should I pour in some effort?' Indescribable emotions surfaced in his eyes.
In the end, only one word sprang to his mouth.
"Fuck!"
"Eh?" Loki sent a side-eye. Before sighing and nodding, "Alr, Champ. Catch ya tonight." Loki patted his back. Sending a force so strong that tripped him forward to the door of his home. Before skipping two houses and arriving at his own.
Santy braced himself mentally then knocked.
After an initial silence, he heard the strong echo of solid steps on the old creaking wooden floor.
The door swung open, before the middle-aged figure with grooved lines on her brows quietly stepped past the shoe-rack and placed her palms on her hips in silence.
Santy gulped before shakily stepping forward and... closing the door.
"Mister Santy, I received a call from your teacher–"
Then she began, like the fleeting sputter of a scooter that accelerated into a roaring train engine.
Santy kept his head down, his shoulders arched down as his thoughts drifted off. The voice of his mother, Drandae, becoming a quiet hush which he easily ignored.
Then with a heavy sigh, Drande pressed the temples of her nose.
Santy noticing the silence looked up. His eyes lingered on her roughened fingers and the slight hollowness of her pale cheeks.
A moment of guilt caught up to him finally. But before it could last, Drandae spun on her heel and began to walk toward the kitchen past the stairs and the living room.
Santy smirked slightly and pushed his shoes off with his feet before taking a leap, skipping the empty store place and arriving at the stairs.
But before he jogged up the stairs, he saw her standing still. Clutching the old painted wall to the kitchen, which had long since past the time of peeling, with her head lowered.
The awkward silence was butchered by the T.V that was switched on inside the living room.
"Infamous Heretic member spotted in the city. Police department and armed forces bringing security measures to new levels—"
'Same shitty news the whole week.' Santy's brows furrowed.
Suddenly, the solid steps echoed. Drandae paused a step away from Santy, her hand shooting out, "Santy!"
Santy flinched, unable to react as she suddenly cupped his hands in her palms.
"My boy," Her watery eyes stirred something inside Santy, "You are an A grade student. Always the pride of your mother. My star boy. You studied on scholarship from start. You are a smart, sensible and kind child... This isn't like you!
"The drastic changes in you from the start of your college are scaring me. Is something bothering you honey? Perhaps–Perhaps some boys nitpicking on you? Or some mental stress worrying you?"
Her arms swallowed him. Her fingers brushed his smooth wavy hair from the back. Santy could pick up on the scent of spices coming from her apron.
His ribs became a person for his heart. His eyes fell onto her hair, slightly frizzy and uncared for.
'It's not that mother...' This was all he could think.
Maybe it was the acme of his teenage years. The subduing hormones and the budding maturity that had made the cold reality of his life and the world starkly visible to him.
In the world... only the powerful could honestly achieve anything and he had neither assets nor relations that would allow him to become powerful.
Even if he aced his academics... what then? He would move to a university on full scholarship. Be praised and rewarded as he continuously worked wonders, then at the end of it all. He would be forced into labor underneath somebody with money who likely wouldn't even be half as capable of him. Why? Because he was powerful.
So why should he work so hard? When he could drop off of college even now and work under somebody powerful... the fate that would await me no matter what.
The one difference would be that. The one who would buy him now wouldn't nearly be as powerful as somebody who bought him after he proved his actual worth.
The world he saw was just like this. His world-view was worse.
Drandae let him go, smiled and moved to the kitchen. Speaking about dinner.
He stood there for a moment before bolting toward the T.V with thudding steps.
He snatched the remote from the table and furiously clicked. The newsreporter changed, but the words didn't.
"The Hereti—"
He stayed a second, then clicked again.
Click!
Click! Click!
"—hank you from our team, to the hot men and sweet ladies, we wish you a very happy new year eve," Santy finally dropped the remote before trudging up the steps of the stairs.
His thoughts soft and quiet. 'She's always letting this Heretic business get to her head.'
From one of the two rooms facing each other, the sound of buttons being fiercely smashed and subtle groans and war cries came out.
Santy smiled a little imagining his sister then moved to his room.
After changing clothes and some idllying away, he heard his mom call out to him for dinner.
As he was getting down, his phone beeped.
He peeked, seeing it was from his friend. He swiped the lock screen. A frown lined his forehead.
Foster: Sry but it won't be possible for me tonight. Gotta go to relatives.
Santy gritted his teeth, 'From bad to worse... what a great start for a happy new year.'
He sighed and punched two words in reply before striding for the kitchen.
"Fuck you."