Sisi / Season 1

11⁒

I open my laptop. Early rush of adrenaline cracks my brain. The white sunlight that spills inside my small place clarifies a mist of dust. I'm having serious internal conflicts. I type it out to sober up. I stare at the little green light that indicates my macbook is charging. I get hypnotized with ideas. Birds fly pass my window, shaking their wings and their problems.

Can you fly? I ask the ghost in my mind. I have a new story. It's a girl, like me, who needs rescuing. But her rescuer ends up being her tormenter. I'm not tormented, but I have yet to find a resolution to quiet the voices in my head. There's X. There's the queen. There's catholic school girl. There's the one who's crazy for J and won't shut up about him. There's also the one who wants to dance.

I close my macbook.

"I'm going to the dance room," I briefly signal my... roommate.

Étienne looks up from his commerce textbook. His hair is thick and needs to be shovelled to the side for his eyes to be visible.

"I didn't know you dance," he comments.

"You don't know anything about me," I shrug, distantly.

I lift my drawstring bag over my shoulders.

"I'm sure you do a lot of things with your body," Étienne goes back to reading his book. Then he pauses and looks back at me. I've already sent him a dangerous glare. "That didn't come out right. I meant that I know you're active."

"Don't talk about my body," I say, blunt.

"Sorry," he says quickly after.

Now that that moment has past, I walk to the door, grabbing my keys.

"About yesterday," I say, "It was weird."

He stares.

"I think that's my shirt you have on."

"It gets confusing sometimes, when we mix our laundry," I say, as-a-matter-of-factly.

I go.

·•●⦁·

dance room old love / new love twin shadow

What am I supposed to say? An old love called me yesterday!

I let my hips hit the air. My feet hit the plastered floor. My eyes watch my reflection. No one ever comes in the dance room. I have blasting music and just move with the rhythm. I pretend to be an 80s aerobics dancer. I shimmy. When the beat gets louder, I dance with my whole body, because no one can stop me. I sing along with Twin Shadow's shadowy voice. The music slows down for me to become Beyoncé.

Suddenly, the silent interlude comes as the music changes. I decide to fetch my water bottle.

Shit.

He stands by the entrance, leisurely.

J's smirk appears, "I didn't know you dance."

"You need to stop stalking me," I say, catching my breath.

He makes a face, as though he's sarcastically thinking about it. I glance at the reflections in the mirror, making sure he's not a vampire.

"Life would be so boring," he grins, finally.

I roll my eyes and grab my bottle. I'm wide awake now. He's right in a way. Boys—the ones I've met—are very interesting. They have no cares, no fears, no hearts. They connect with the night hour and burn their fingers with the flames of indecency. I, myself, have been very sheltered from the outside world. I've been raised to believe that I have to stay away from fire. So then why is it so hypnotizing. Temptation at its best, trading my life with a wild possibility to do wrong.

Looking at this guy is just so wrong. So I continue looking in his blazing eyes.

"What do you want?" I briskly ask, afraid of his answer.

He shrugs and leans his shoulder on the frame.

"Want to hang out?" he asks in turn.

I shake my head and murmur, "You lost that privilege."

He snorts a laugh, checking out my oversized t-shirt, "Is that what your boyfriend said?"

I pout in defense, but decide to let him run for his money.

"Maybe," I answer vaguely, "Maybe not."

He doesn't seem phased by me, even though I pronounced the T.

"Maybe dinner?"

"Oh, you're philanthropic now?" I comment sarcastically.

Because, surely, he's not really asking me to go out with him, for real.

"Is that a yes?" he raises a brow.

I slowly walk pass him. I've never been asked out before. I'm not sure how it goes. He's not giving me much choice either. Before the room combusts into flames and the fire department rushes to get here, I open my mouth.

"There better be champagne." 

 ·•●⦁·