This one has been a bit of an interesting challenge, really. And it will be a two-part piece. You will be getting part one now and part two should be along soon.
This one... well, when I started I had no idea where I wanted it to go... so it's weird? Hopefully the good kind, ha.
Prompt: “He found the journal on the train…”
Perspective: First Person
Genres: Slice of Life, Drama, Secrets
Length: 1964 words
Warnings:
-Part one of two
-Journal reading
-Oblivious young men
-Art school
Author Notes: The narrator’s name is Noble, though that is never stated here. Most times, he is referred to as Magpie. It works for him. The next part will call him by his given name, though. I’ll remind you when it’s posted, too.
And my most precious treasure? Well, it wasn’t even mine to claim.
My attention span for anything but art or class work was legendary and short, so I hadn’t bothered to get a driver’s license. I could get anywhere I needed to go by metro, anyway.
It was only a few months ago that I was taking the train downtown to see the newest art exhibit –I couldn’t even say who they were honoring, only that it looked interesting enough to brave the crowded city for. ‘m caught the metro at the station closest to my studio and as per my usual, I ended up holding onto the railing, as the seats in the car were all taken.
There was a familiar man haunting the seat across from me –pretty, almost, like a model I would never have chosen to work with, because he was almost delicate in face. Of course, it was hard to tell with the way he was buried in that leather-bound book of his. Yet the candor of such an act was charming in its own way, so long as he didn’t notice me noticing. He was quietly lovely, in understated jeans and a solid tee, the laces of his beaten up red high-tops tied in careful knots to keep them from coming undone. There was something familiar about him –maybe the shape of his face or the way he bit his lip when he was concentrating, but definitely something that made me think I should know this person.
I couldn’t place him, which was a frequent problem I had since I had a great eye for faces but a lousy memory for names, so I avoided making eye-contact. I kept my gaze surreptitious and limited the number of times I could even look his way. Beautiful men had no business with the likes of me, even if they did have honey-blond hair and chocolate brown eyes. That was the way of the world, as it were.
We slowed to a stop and I watched him slip out of the car through the corner of my eye. Tired of standing, I waited until the train was in motion again before stealing the seat he had occupied. Leaning forward, I found myself staring at the dark leather of the book the man had been so studiously reading.
No, I thought, as I opened the book, writing in. This is a journal of sorts…
Peeking at the end-pages and the cover, I tried to at least find a name. A journal belonged with its owner, after all. Coming up frustratingly empty-handed, I almost missed my stop trying to find a clue about the man.
Exiting the station found me near a park. My interest in the exhibit forgotten, I found a bench so at least I wouldn’t be in the way with my little game of detective. I opened the book to the first page with writing and read a bit, feeling a bit like a voyer. But all I wanted was the return the book!
First day of class, I read, and I’m thirteen kinds of nervous. Art school is intimidating in its own way, and I hate being treated like it was a whim of some kind, something I’ll gown out of. If I was going to lose my love of sculpture and pottery, don’t you think it would have been before I had to start art school with all these talented people who will make me feel inferior by simply existing?
So far, nothing too identifiable. The entry wasn’t even dated, so there were few conclusions to draw, except the words trailed off and the next bit seemed to be a new entry, even though it was on the same page. I read on, still hoping for a clue.
So, art school? Yeah, it’s full of stuck-up assholes high on their own talent, mostly, but there are a few people a little more down to earth. There’s this guy everyone calls “Magpie”, for instance. Fucking brilliant painter with none of the complex the others seemed to have. His art covers one of the corridors and I let myself get lost in it during my free hour. It was so densely surreal and yet his attention to detail is amazing. A night sky is lit with familiar constellations and the light of a moon sliver seems to reflect off the petals of lush flowers. It’s a moon-light meadow and I’m waxing poetic like an idiot.
But that’s okay. I doubt even I’ll read this again.
The next entry skipped a few lines and a few days time, I guessed, because he picked up with,
I hate this fucking place sometimes, and yet there are other time’s I’m sure it’s the only paradise I’ll ever know. Literally ran into Magpie today, and all I could do was stutter an apology. I am utterly in awe of his talent, really –I wish I could pant the way he does. So now I get to act like a love-struck girl?
Fuck that. I have my own talents, too –talents that brought me here to study on scholarship.
Too bad Mum would rather I take something “less frivolous”. I’m not giving up the only thing I’ve ever loved. Not for anyone.
His thoughts were inelegant in some ways, yet they flowed so well. I found myself wanting to know more about this person. I needed the next entry.
Needed the clay today. It’s the only things that I truly understand at times.
Discovered Magpie was still in my art history lecture. I mean, he was there at the beginning of the semester, but I kind of forgot. Why is he so damn cute, anyway? That hair is more ridiculous than mine –but probably because he recently went purple. Damned if it isn’t adorable.
Mum wants me back home. Apparently Mya won’t behave for her. Can’t imagine why… My little sister is more like a daughter of mine than of hers.
I’m not going home. I need this place, somehow. Wish I could figure that one out, myself.
I found myself blushing. He’d liked my hair purple? Most people thought that it was silly how often my hair changed color, but he found it… adorable. Now if I only had a name for him.
I looked to the next entry.
My work was featured in the case. Too bad it’s the sculpture of the bird. Everyone ask what kind of bird, and I tell them it’s a “kkachi”.
Kkachi is the Korean Magpie.
I need to do something more serious as a sculptor, but I can’t really decide what. At the same time, I just want to become better at drawing. Putting my brain in order before I sculpt is important, but all I can manage is rough sketches. Maybe I need a drawing class next semester.
I frowned. I remembered the sculpture, a smart black and white bird standing on a tree limb. It had been labeled “Kkachi”, as he’d stated. But the Korean Magpie… Was I becoming a fixation for him?
Paging through, I skipped a few entries and read the next one I found.
Fucking hell. What am I doing developing a crush? It’s not like he knows I exist. He’s an upperclassmen, for God’s sake. A talented artist, a genuinely nice guy, and way out of my league.
Ugh. Mya wants to move in with me; Mum’s not the greatest when it comes to caring for a pre-teen. I’m in the dorm until the semester ends, but I told her I’d look for a place and see about bringing her out here. Mum is a good person and everything. She’s just absolutely horrible at being a mother.
Of course, she’ll have a duck if I take Mya with me. Then she’ll be all alone, except for her men. On second thought, she’ll love that plan.
I hate adulthood. It’s too much work. I’m going to have to find a job if I want to support a twelve year old, too.
I frowned at that. How long had he been the adult in his household? It seemed like being a kid was a foreign concept to him.
I paged ahead again, and found a new entry.
Mya’s settling in well. God help me when I have to tell her I like guys. That’s a screaming match I want to avoid.
For now, she’s happy and I can be happy, too. Mum’s spitting mad about the whole thing still and threatening to take her away from me, but she hasn’t even driven to the city or looked at our loft. She’s just mad she didn’t get her way.
Eli really came through for me. The bar is actually a great place for tips, if I don’t mind the drunks grabbing my ass. I’m a little worried about leaving Mya alone, though, so I’ll have to find a sitter –even though she insists she doesn’t need one. Maybe Tama will help me out. She does love little girls and Mya will love her sense of style.
I assumed Eli was Elijah Marten, the most down-to-earth of the people I’m met at school. Tama was probably Tamaki Shinn, the fashion design major. Her hair color actually changed more than mine, but she was a sweet kid, too. I was glad this guy had fallen in with such great people. Yet I still had no idea what this boy’s name was!
About to give up, I read the next entry for good measure.
If Mya calls me ‘Lucy’ again, I will kill her. ‘Luce” I will accept, but I have a perfectly masculine name and there is no need to make it feminine!
She, at least, only uses that name to bug me. Mum uses it when she wants something –like shortening my name and using her sweet voice works on me anymore. When she is mad, she goes straight for ‘Lucian Kendall’ like I should shudder in fear.
Tama is watching Mya when I work and I’m keeping busy with that and school, but I still make time for that cute brat. She’s already made friends at here new school –like sleepover friends. She’s amazing.
I’m working on a new sketch for drawing. Not sure if I like the class, really, but Magpie is there and I have a chance to observe him a little. Yep, it’s a little stalker-y but I don’t mean it in a creepy way. It’s those blue-gray eyes and that mane of black hair he tips with whatever color strikes his mood and the way he lets the girls paint his fingernails. I want to draw him, but I’m afraid to ask. Hell, I’m not sure I could do him justice.
I finally found a name. But this taste of his life… well, I had to do something to reach out to him. Heaven knew life hadn’t treated him all that well so far, and he needed something special.
Oh, this journal was a treasure to a magpie like myself. No, maybe it was more of a treasure map, because it showed me the treasure and told me how to go after it.
Now I had to find my own courage and go after what I wanted.
The best part of this is that he finds Lucian as adorable as Lucian finds Noble. Thank god I don't have to write sex for these two. I needed cute after some of the crap I've been reading online, but shit. I don't think there is enough cute and bisshie sparkles in me for that one.
Hey, there's only one character with a Japanese name! I'm so proud of me! lol
Sorry. A little punchy and I need to go to work in a bit.
Let me know how you like this one, alright?
~Lulu~