Chapter 2: Good Morning

Chapter 2

— Good Morning —

The night before was the liveliest event in our new house. The event acted as the mark of the start of my new school, and the celebration of a new home and life. After the party at 8:05pm, Mother, Zephyr, who was left on the couch to whine about his bruised cheek; and I went on to clean up the living room, porch, and everywhere the guests went to. I recalled a few things that happened.

"Hey, Daze," Zephyr called out as he bent over to pick up a paper plate on the floor—while his hand kept a pack of ice to his cheek. "You wanna join some after school activities with me? I know a few good ones." He suggested after knowing we went to the same school.

I hummed for a moment, rolling my eyes as I mused. I replied, "Sure. What do you want to join?"

"Great! I have this awesome boxing class just for you! I personally know the coach. He's my Uncle."

I sighed, making sure it was loud enough so that he could hear. "Zeph. Just because I threw you a good punch doesn't mean I want to be a bozer—I-I mean boxer."

"Oh, honey." My mother chirped from the kitchen. "We need to get your stuttering in check."

"It's not stuttering, mom. I just mispronounced a word." I retorted almost immediately.

"Anyway," Zephyr started, "I'm not suggesting it because I thought you'd want to be a bozer." He purposefully repeated my mistake. "I'm suggesting it because I think you'd be an awesome one!" Then, with four long strides, he appeared beside me. "Imagine!" He exclaimed to my ear, putting his arm over my slim shoulders. "The overwhelming crowd chanting your name as you initiate the finishing blow on your opponent!"

"I'd genuinely rather not."

"His body lump on the floor. His coach screaming for him to stand up. The referee shouting out the last 2 numbers, before blowing his whistle and announcing that Daze Marsh is the winner!"

"Oh God. Please don't say my name again."

"Daze Marsh!" He chanted. "Daze Marsh!" He continued chanting while throwing his arms into the air.

By then, I shook his arm off my shoulders and showed him out the door. "Head home. We're done cleaning already."

"Oh come on. You can't be that offended to kick me out!" He pursed his lips. He slowly inched towards me. "Come on. Aren't you worried that your friend would get kidnapped?"

"You live across the street."

"Yeah—but-"

"Why would anyone take you? You're ugly. Nothing worth much in the organs either. I'm sure your liver is begging for water."

"I may like soda but not that much."

"Yeah. Let's just refuse to call 'drinking 8 cups worth of soda every day' an addiction."

"Putang Ina. It's not an addiction."

"Then what is it?" I raised a brow. "An abduction?"

"Gago ka ba? It's not!" He refused.

I grabbed the collar of his coat and threw him out the door. He went down the steps screaming. I slammed the door shut once I saw him land on the front lawn on his butt. "Ow!" He exclaimed, rubbing his butt.

"Go home, loser!" I yelled.

As I passed the door to the kitchen, my mother called from within. Rolling my eyes, I head inside. Surely she overheard our conversation.

"Yeah, mom?"

She turned around, her brunette hair flowing evenly from her back and onto her shoulder. "Daze, dear," she called—her voice angelic and breathy like the voice of a celebrity in the 1900's—her accent almost transatlantic. "Come here for a moment."

I hesitated for a moment. My mother had never harmed me in the past, but I felt an overwhelming guilt that made my heart clench. After a moment, I took a step forward and strutted to her side. "Yeah? Whatcha need?" I tried to sound casual.

She placed an arm around my waist and pulled my face to her chest. A hum vibrated from her throat. Her fingers twisting the ends of my tail. "Are you not happy?" She curiously inquired. "You haven't been this lively since we arrived in Bluris."

I took in her scent for a moment, feeling her skin on my face as my fingers intertwined on her back. "I am happy," I inhaled. "Why would you think I am not?"

Her chest raised and fell. I could feel her fleeting breath on my hair. Placing her palm to my cheek, she lifted my head to meet her ravishing brown eyes. "You were smiling a lot with Zephyr."

"I just missed him. I miss all my friends in Manila. I'm just glad he moved here with his family, or else things would get insufferable very fast."

"Oh. My baby," she moaned, her voice soft like honey. She reached down and kissed my cheek until she arrived at the corner of my lips. She lingered. Her warm breath tickled the skin on my face. I turned to meet her face, where she pulled back—finally. It hurt me slightly.

"I'll head to bed, mom," I say, lowering my gaze from her. I step away and head up to my room.

It felt weird.

Early the next morning, my mother had left a note, stating that she was headed to work—along with another note that I should head to school on the bus. I had a feeling that her sudden change of heart was due to what had conspired the night before. I didn't mind that it happened. I just hate that I wasn't getting her attention.

I put my hand underneath my baggy shirt, scratching my side as I head to the bathroom in my room to get ready for the day. There was nothing noteworthy, other than the incredible amount of my clothes in the basket. I could see an old shirt that had been chewed by a rat. I hadn't been able to bring myself to throw it away.

After taking off my clothes, I took a quick cold shower and dried myself off with a red towel hanging on the rack. Returning to my room with the towel wrapped around my waist. My hair was still wet, so it soaked my shoulder for the 2nd time.

After quickly choosing a set of clothes to wear to school (completely ignoring the fact that I had a week's worth of uniform), I found myself a gray hoodie and a blue jumper. I put a shirt underneath so that I could easily take off the hoodie when the weather gets too hot.

I grabbed my phone and bag on the desk before heading down to the kitchen.

I stare at the note my mother left on the refrigerator for a while. Wondering why she would suddenly go to work early. Her work never starts before 9, meanwhile school begins by 8. She has an hour to spare before heading to her job. So, why? Was it due to the event that had partaken the evening before? What was wrong with it? Was she feeling guilty to merely hug her own son? What was wrong with her?

I crumpled the note in my hand and washed it down the sink. I was too disgusted to even eat breakfast, so I walked to school in the early morning of 6:32am.

Casting a glance over the corner, I saw Zephyr sitting on the sidewalk with many students—all playing and chatting—while waiting for the bus to arrive. Rolling my eyes, I continued to walk to school.

It didn't take me long on my walk near the highway when a car pulled over to my side. I thought about bolting away, thinking I was to be abducted, but pushed that thought away when I saw Ilmestys. Her bright smile shining through the open windows of her father's car.

"Hey! Do you need a ride?" She offered. Underneath her eyes were dark eyebags—perhaps darker than mine. I wonder what she did last night to achieve them, especially since she had none of them when I last saw her.

Now that I think about it, the offer had me frozen. I didn't think that I'd find a friend offering me a ride as I was sulking. I didn't want to be rude by turning down their offer. "S-Sure?"

She opened the door while shifting to the other seat. I immediately went in when I got the sign.

The ride to the school was quiet. Only the humming of the car's engine. Almost falling asleep until Ilmestys's father begin to speak up. "I didn't think the school had any other students that Ilmestys could become friends with. What's your name, boy?"

"D-Daze." I coughed to clear my throat. Clearly, it was still dry. "Daze Marsh. I just moved here."

Her father suddenly became stiff. His voice came out more forced. "Sure. How long have you been here for?"

"Not very long. We moved during the middle of June. We originally came from Manila."

"The Philippines? You're filipino?" Another voice came from the passenger seat. It was a boy, older than both Ilmestys and I. I could only assume it was her older brother. He had the same brown hair and olive eyes. What was different about him was his tan skin and larger frame.

"Half-filipino. My father is american."

Their father coughed, catching my attention. "Have you been doing anything illegal lately, Marsh?"

"Dad!" Ilmestys screamed.

"I'm just asking, dear. No need to shout."

I was confused. Why would he ask about such a thing? "No. I'm not. Why do you ask?"

I saw him gaze towards me through the rear-view mirror. His eyes were cautious. "It's nothing. I just can't figure out why your eyes are red."

"His eyes look brown to me," Ilmestys churned.

"Maybe I'm just tired from work." His shoulders finally dropped, showing that he wasn't tense anymore. He was still cautious. Which leaves me to wonder, how does he see my red eyes?

Arriving at school, I immediately hopped out of the car—almost leaving my bag behind in my haste. Ilmestys waved her father goodbye then accompanied me to the cafe across the street. We still had about an hour to spare.

I looked up to the signage at the top of the entrance. "Stygian's Tavern" was written in a bold, New Roman font. I was hesitant to go inside. It looked more like a bar rather than a cafe.

I grab Ilmestys's arm and pull her back into the sidewalk. "Girl, are you sure this is a cafe?"

"Yeah, duh. They just call it a tavern because the creator of this place named it after himself. Have you ever studied history?"

"I have—and I am pretty sure Stygian is a woman. She is the reason why none of humanity is trapped in Fharghlost. I got that in check!"

"She's a woman?!" She audibly gasped. "They always spoke about him‐her as a man!"

"Possibly because they didn't want to admit that a woman was strong, determined—and whatever perks she had." I rolled my eyes. I was never a fan of that woman.

"I knew I should've bought the original translations of Outis's history books! Ugh. Now I feel so stupid!" She stomped her foot.

"Let's just head inside. It feels like we're holding up a line just by standing out here." I let go of her hand and went inside the cafe.

It looked more like a medieval bar rather than that of the local Starbucks—which I most definitely prefer. Their modernized decorations were better than some damp, wooden, and moist-looking medieval bar. It disgusted me.

I seated myself in one of the right face booths as Ilmestys went on and ordered a meal for the both of us, which she insisted on paying herself. I wanted to reject the idea, to tell her that it was socially unacceptable for a woman to pay for a man's means, but I wavered.

While waiting for the food to arrive, Ilmestys bombarded me with thousands of questions.

"What are your hobbies?"

"Painting, skateboarding, rock climbing."

"You mentioned you have a twin brother. What's his name? Have you ever met him?"

"Damien. No."

"What do you like?"

"Black. Coffee. Toast and Jollibee."

"Do you like modern society the way it is?"

"Yeah. Definitely. Just minus the negativity."

"Do you think magic still exists within all of us?"

"No. I remember Soren clearly eradicated the existence of magic in the Era of Illian."

"Do you think our eye colors still hold meaning and give us an attribute like in the eras During Magic?"

"That's still a magic theory. Of course not."

"What do you think about marriage?"

"Hey! The food is here!" I laughed my way out of the conversation—moving my arms off the table to allow the waiter to settle the trays of food before us.

"Personally, I think marriage is just a contract in modern society. I miss the days where marriage was actually a big deal and meant many things!" She exclaimed as she organized her plates and utensils.

"Sure." I muttered.

I look down to my meal. It was a regular meal with pancakes, bacon, and coke. The dish would've been a regular meal if it weren't for the fact that I was used to Asian meals—with rice, entrée, and everything.

Ilmestys's meal looked better. She had bread, macaroni soup, a glass of iced tea, a vegetarian pizza, and rice curry. It felt like I was the American between the two of us.

Nonetheless, I was thankful that she brought me some food, and ate away. It wasn't as half bad as I thought it would be. She kept taking parts of my pancakes and I got fed up at some point, so I just gave them to her. Not even minutes later, she handed me some of her food, saying she was unable to finish them.

"Seriously?" I inquired, my voice dripping with sarcasm as my brows twisted in confusion.

"Yeah. I'm kinda full!"

"Kinda?!"

I took her plates and ate away. Some spoiled rich kid she turned out to be. I didn't even realize I was still hungry until I took a bite out of her curry. It was amazing. Continuing to eat, I caught her smiling. "What?" I asked.

"Nothing. I'm just glad you're eating a lot. You're quite a skinny boy. Have you noticed that?"

"Girl, you're skinnier than me."

She got mad at my comment and decided she wanted to ignore me as I continued to eat. Grabbing her notebook and reviewing her notes as she mumbled, I'm not skinny.