Unfairness

"You know, I've been wondering." I flipped through the pages of my book for a while, before placing my book down on the bedside table, opting to stare at the moon instead of continuing to read.

It was midnight now, a strange time to be having a meetup, but we never conformed to human times anyway, so it doesn't really matter.

I was back in the room again, together with her as usual. Unlike usual, it was midnight, a time which I was usually asleep at. It was too cold during midnight to be awake, the type of dead silent cold that I didn't like. I looked over to my friend. She was knitting again, head buried in the knitting like it was the most important thing to her.

Wearing a loose long sleeve and comfy black pants, she laid on the floor, concentrating. She obviously knew that the floor was too cold to lay on for too long, yet she didn't seem to care, solely focused on knitting row after row into what seemed to be a hat, the needles making a satisfying clinking sound as they moved at high speeds.

It was completely unlike her first attempt which was filled with clumsy mistakes.

"What is it?" At my words, she quickly replied, placing her knitting down on the floor. I was hit by a sudden guilt seeing her easily stop what she was doing in return for listening to me.

I never did that for her when she spoke, yet every time I did, she dropped everything to listen to my ramblings that no one would normally listen to in the real world.

Tugging on my long sleeve shirt that matched hers, I patted the side of the bed unconsciously, beckoning her to come and sit down. She complied, sitting down by my side with her knitting needles in hand. I rested my head against her shoulder, staring at the moon.

"So, villains. They always seemed to be very 1D and never explained properly, which is sad."

I paused, picking up the lemon infused water that was placed on my wooden bedside table as well. I looked around the room and the sudden realisation that nearly everything in this room was made out of wood hit me. Staring at the wood, I slowly spoke again.

"Have you ever wondered why they do what they do?"

"Hmm?" She seemed to think that my train of thought was interesting, resting her head on mine casually.

I continued to speak. "You know how villains are always, well, bad? For example, the fiancée villain from childhood or the cultivation big shot that just happened to bully the protagonist?" I fiddle with my hair, twirling it.

"But like, the fiancée villain has been with the main character forever, so they can be expected to bully the person that was trying to steal their person away from them right? Why is it that they have to stand there like punching bags and be bullied? I don't understand." I angrily slapped my bed. It was soft and fluffy, making me pause for a second, stroking the fluff.

"And the cultivation big shot, they hold the power over the entire world, so why won't they use that power to live slightly better? So why does the main character go after the poor big shot? It's unfair!"

I pouted and stared at the ground, noting that the floor was wood as well in my rage. My friend smiled helplessly, patting my head.

"You're right, but you missed one thing." She moves to look at me properly, causing my head to leave her shoulder. Smirking, she flicks my forehead as I floundered and nearly fell over.

"They are the main lead, so who cares? As long as they get their way, nobody cares how they do so. In the end, the person who everyone wants to see succeed is the main character, so who has time to care about unimportant people like the cultivation big shot?"

She spoke easily, patting my head once again. I continued to frown, annoyed at the reality of everything. She had a point, a big one at that, and I didn't like it at all.

"You're right…" I sighed unwillingly.

"I know I'm right." She winks at me and lies down on the bed, pulling me down with her. I follow along , landing on the bed.

Still, I couldn't stop thinking about the unfairness of books. Did villains really need this type of pain even though some of them haven't done anything wrong? It was unfair, really.

"You know, if you don't like the reasoning behind some of these books, you can be the one to change it. Write your own story, change everything that is unsatisfying." I pursed my lips at her words.

"But it doesn't give the same satisfaction, you know? And… I don't have the talent to write." I closed my eyes as I stated this fact.

It had always been my limiting factor, talent. Having no talent can ruin your life, especially when it was important for whatever you wanted to do. Sometimes, I wished that I was one of those people blessed with talent instead of being such a normal, boring person.

Like a main character.

"It doesn't have to be good, you know? It just has to be something that you want to create. Talent means nothing in the face of creation." She said easily. I didn't bother to open my eyes while replying, too comfortable bother too much with words and retorts.

This was the reason why I didn't like talking at midnight, I always felt too tired to exist properly.

"I know, I know." I murmured out that word, sleepiness enveloping me. I allowed it to take me, falling into a deep sleep.

When I woke up, I was back in the cold apartment room that I rented out. I stared at the concrete walls before heaving a big sigh.

Another day would have to pass before I was able to return back to where I wanted to be again.