Yeah, I've been working on this for a while, and been putting it off even longer. But, the first part of my first fun fic has been done. It guest stars one of my classmates, so hope you guys find it funny. From Hazadrous Productions, here comes part one:
Airplane, Part One
“Will Mr. Low Ting Wei please board the flight SQ 182? If you don’t get your ass here, we’re leaving without you. I’m serious, okay? I mean, some of us have got other stuff to do, so hurry now. I’m warning you. Please?”
The passengers were starting to get riled in their seats. The only music that was playing on the airplane system was “Everytime we touch”. And it was not even the original; it was the remix. The pounding drumbeats seemed to be driving everyone crazy. One could liken it to the sound of the hunter’s horn, signalling the hunt and bringing out the animal in his fellow comrades, or the honking of a horn on a jammed expressway, where you go out to quarrel with the driver in front of you, only to realise that she is in fact your wife.
To top that off, the peanuts had run out, and the only thing left were the pretzels. Which tasted like shit. It was like the final straw that broke the camel’s back, and so, in a marriage, there’d be no more humping. Yes, that time of year where infidelity and divorce papers filled the air, blowing in the wind as one holds on to dear life to his umbrella, wishing he took his friend’s offer to catch a ride home instead of being polite.
The plane ride looked like it was going to be hell. Well, except for the girl sitting next to me. She was staring at the plane magazine intently, furrowing her brows as she skimmed through the list of items that could be purchased with Krisflyer. The plane light radiated softly off her short, jet black hair that almost covered her eyebrows, but never quite did as it would be troublesome as she would have difficulty reading otherwise. Her eyes were a dark hazel; almost like mud, but more like chocolate, and nowhere near curry. Mmm. Chocolate. I gazed at the plane menu, checking to see what desert would be served. It was fruits. I looked at the first class menu.
Chocolate cake. Those damned rich bastards.
I snuck a peek at her again. When she turned to look at me, I quickly turned back, pretending to do a Sudoku puzzle. Of course, I had already finished the entire book. When she turned back to look at the magazine again, her gorgeous eyes absorbing the knowledge of this fall’s fashion dos and don’ts, I would catch glimpses of her again. It was like secondary school all over again. She would be the quiet, kind girl, always sitting in the corner, reading away. She wasn’t as active as the class rep, so most people outside of class wouldn’t know her, and since she wasn’t as outgoing or ‘sexy’ as the popular girls, most guys wouldn’t be that interested in her.
And me? I would be the geek, only fitting in with my fellow otakus, antisocial to most of the community, spending my afternoons in the chess club or at home. But, after school sometimes, I would go back to class to get my stuff, and I’d see her watering the class plants that no one ever bothered to take care of, and cleaning the floor. I’d fallen for her ever since, someone who wasn’t very social, yet so hardworking for the sake of her class who barely knew she existed. When she took her glasses to wipe off her sweat, her eyes would shimmer brightly, like saying a job well done. I had fallen for her ever since, and every day after chess, I’d stare at her again, acting nonchalant and cold during class, but secretly admiring her, constantly trying to work up the courage to confess or volunteer to help with the maintenance of the class. Yes, to convey my feelings, I needed to create interaction with her; to find the common ground of our antisocial behaviour, to connect our worlds of solitude and to bridge the gap between our hearts.
“Is this the flight to Singapore?”
“Yes sir.”
“So this plane goes to Singapore?”
“Yes sir.”
“Okay...”
“Wait, where is your ticket?”
“Huh?”
“You need to show your boarding pass to board sir.”
“So that’s why it is called the boarding pass!”
Then, he came in. He was well built; no, that was an understatement. He looked like the guy who Chuck Norris might take for a disciple, if he weren’t so busy kicking ass. In fact, if he kicked your leg while, I don’t know, playing soccer, it would mostly likely break. His eyes looked dead; one might mistake them for those of a blur idiot, but they were cold like a killer’s. At least he wasn’t sitting next to me.
“Hello. You flying to Singapore too?”
I turned around, and the devil may cry. There he was, sitting on the aisle seat, next to her. She looked at him with a look of intrigue, then smiled and replied: “Mhmm.”
It was bad. No, it was more than bad. It was worse than a six year old boy following a trail of gummy bears into that black van where a Ronald McDonald lookalike was sitting, with several lollipops sticking out of his pants, telling him that if he wanted more, all he needed was to get the candy from his pants. Okay, maybe not that bad. But he was that sort of peaceful looking jock, the one who would not hang out with the rest of the gang, but would work harder than all of them. He would not care about the status quo, and would live in his own world, peacefully. The quiet girl would secretly admire him, sneaking peeks at him and offering to help him with his homework, eventually falling in love with his quiet but strong nature. And it was happening in front of my face.
Heartbreak.
“Umm, I plug this in, then what do I do with the earphones?”
“You put them into your ears, see?”
“Oh...”
She giggled softly, politely covering her mouth. I wish I could be the one to make her laugh. Even all those years of watching Seinfeld and Whose Line Is It Anyway wouldn’t help me at all. The only jokes I knew were those out of a knock-knock book. And they weren’t even funny. It looked like I was going to lose again.
No. I was sick of being that “creep”, the one the girls would laugh at and question his sexuality. I was not going to be left out of the class trip again, and be dateless at the graduation dance. I was not going to be the only one incapable of receiving a single Valentine’s Day gift, or the one whom girls would not come within a two metre radius of, like a flasher released on bail with a restraining order. I was going to make human contact with her. I mean, not physically, but I was going to talk with her, maybe get to know her better...even though I probably never meet her again...and that guy was still there...
I felt my confidence crumble again. It felt so depressing. I turned back to my manga. Mahou Sensei Negima. Actually, it made me feel more depressed that that ten year old had more girls fall for him that I have ever talked to. Oh God, kill me.
“A little bit of courage is the real magic.”
As I reread that first chapter, something in my heart stirred. It was as if the chains had finally been broken. My heart had been freed. I could do it if I tried my best. All this while, I had been the guy who sat out of the sports meets, saying I was not good enough. I had been sitting in the shadows, never coming out into the light. I had never taken the first step. It wasn’t I couldn’t do anything, but that I had never done anything. Well, it was going to stop. I was going to talk to her!
Yes! As the great Kamiya-sama had said, all that is needed is fighting spirit! I needed to believe in Husky (may he rest in peace, poor dog), who believed in me! More importantly, I needed to believe in myself, who believes in myself! I can achieve anything if I set my heart on it! Friendship, effort, victory! The three jump principles, colliding together to form the ultimate formula! That’s right! I will make my own path, even if I have to use a drill that pierces the heavens! KAMIYA-SAMMAAAAA! I will make you proud, so watch over me!
By the way, I can’t wait to watch episode 8. I’m so happy to have watched an inspiring character like Kamiya. It’d be unthinkable if he died. Oh well, not like that would happen.
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