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chien_rouge525It was just three weeks into the academic year. I lay on my bed, my notes with pens and highlighters beside me. I had been studying for the last 3 hours and decided to take a break. I put down all my notes and picked up my phone sitting atop my bedside table and positioned myself lying down on my side scanning for FB updates, twitter notifs or Tumblr ups when a buzz from my phone sent my whole arm vibrating. I looked at the darkened screen and saw the messenger notification box clear on the screen. Only three words appeared:
Antonio Carriedo: Yo.
I gazed at my iPhone screen and pressed the reply button.
Lovino: What, bastard?
Antonio: Ouch Lovi, I wanted to ask how you were doing. Thank you for helping me out during Jap. today. You really helped me out back there. I should sit beside you more often during that class.
Lovino: Sure.
Antonio: So what are you doing right now?
Lovino: Chatting with you,idiot.
Antonio: You’re not studying?
Lovino: Was. I’m taking a break.
Antonio: Oh. Then I can borrow you for a few minutes?
Lovino: Do whatever you want.
Antonio: Just wanted to talk about that series we were talking about during break time.
Lovino: What about?
Antonio: Well, see...
Antonio Fernandez Carriedo is one of my blockmates from my Communication Arts Course in the state university I go to. Before this, we barely said a word to each other. In fact, I was alone most of the time and he looked like he wanted to be alone as well as he never conversed with any of the other blockmates. That was during the first week. But then after another week or so, we had a chance to talk during break time while waiting for our next class.
I sat with the block, scanning through my phone an looking through pictures of the recent episode release of the drama series I’m following when I felt a presence creep behind me. I turned my body 180 degrees to the left and realized it was Antonio hovering over me, also looking at my phone. I quickly locked it and blushed. The drama series I was following was the sort of drama most people would be wary of. For a college student to be watching that sort of drama would probably turn people off. I tried to bring out the words. Something along the lines of, “Not a word of this bastard, or you’re dead.” But the words wouldn’t come out. I thought for sure he would shun me, but instead he took me by the shoulders and directed my body to him. Now that I was looking at him, I could literally see the glimmer present in his eyes.
“Was that what I think it was?”
“Wh-what was?”
“How To Get Away With Murder. “ What?
“It was in your phone. The pictures. Those were of the recent episodes right?”
“Y-yeah. What about it?”
“I finally found a friend!” He threw his arms out and took me into a tight hold from which I felt like I was about to die from air loss. He swung me around and landed me back down on my feet thankfully before the oxygen had completely left me.
“I thought I was the only one! I never thought you’d like the same series as well!”
“Yeah well, I do. And I like Oliver a lot. He’s hot.”
“I like him too!”
And just like that, I found myself in a lengthy discussion with him about the show and a lot more. He apparently liked nearly the same things I did, went to the same place I’ve been to. He’s Spanish and I’m Italian so we could pretty much speak the same language. In the few weeks we got acquainted we had somehow leveled up to becoming friends. Or so he claims.
After all, who would want to be friends with little ol’ Lovino Vargas. The Resident Bully. The Putty Mouthed Bad Tempered Unwanted Eldest son of the illustrious Vargas Family.
For someone to call me his or her friend could mean Grand Papa had used his connections to make me feel good about myself for a while then drop the bomb on me telling me he had only paid this kid to pretend to be my “friend”. Either that, or that person must be reckless and stupid and needs serious medical attention, preferably for the eyes and for the brain.
But this guy claimed he was different. He hardly knew what the Vargas family meant and thought it was just a fancy name for a tomato variety (For some odd reason, he’s into tomatoes. So much he thinks it’s a compliment to call him “Tomato Bastard”). Since that day, we would text each other or chat with each other. We were almost always together, joking around and horsing around. You’d see us either talking about stuff our other blockmates could hardly relate. In a sense, it felt comfortable being with him. And this was the first time any one was ever kind to me this way.
Since youth, I was always number two. My younger brother, Feliciano who I’m older by 10 seconds, was the cheerful adorable one. He was always number one. Everyone loved him. I loved him too, but there were times in which I wished he wasn’t the favorite. He was good at singing, painting. Everything I’m not. He was loved. I wasn’t. During our shared birthday, which is supposed to be for the two of us, I would be on the far end of the crowd, watching as Feli is showered by friends and family with gifts and compliments, while I was stuck to eat cake alone.
Nevertheless, it wasn’t always sadness in my life. For one, as nobody wouldn’t bother to ask for me, I would always be with my pen and paper, scribbling away on paper about life, romance, and adventure. I learned of my love for writing then and most of the time if I wasn’t in my room being lonely and drowning myself in hate, I would most certainly be under some tree in our giant labyrinth, writing the noon away. On rainy nights, while everyone would be asleep, I would sneak out the house and run to my favorite spot, a cliff overlooking the city of my beloved hometown, Italy. When the rain would stop, the skies would clear and the magical and mysterious beauty of the cosmos would light the sky. I would be there looking and mapping the stars. As a result to being alone most of the time, I would be buried in my books and therefore, excelled in school. It would be during school ceremonies where I would be known to the family as a pride. Although after that, it would be back to Feliciano. But I had grown accustomed to it. My lonesome became happiness. So when someone like Antonio had started talking to me, it felt so alien and I had begun to feel a strange attachment to him. The first days of college were vexing as I would again succumb to the loneliness and the fortitude of the library. Now, going to school meant I would get to see the person I now held dear. It was friendship blossoming slowly. I don’t dare tell him much about myself, but I always feel like I could tell him everything. He would tell me his secrets, therefore I felt special. We had a special connection. Even when our circle of friends grew, he would always stick to me.
Looking back on it now, it felt like it started somewhere from there. I had known it all along. I was different. I had a strong gut feeling and this feeling made me realize it a lot sooner. The friendship for me had grown to be something more than that. He became my reason to go to school. My reason for waking up in the morning. The knight in my poems. The hero of my plume. I had fallen in love with Toni. A lot faster than I thought I would.
So imagine the happiness suddenly collapsing inside of me when the entrance of an unexpected character came into the fray completely turning me upside down. Imagine seeing the one person you thought was the one. The one that finally made you feel number one suddenly make you number two.
Antonio Carriedo: Yo.
I gazed at my iPhone screen and pressed the reply button.
Lovino: What, bastard?
Antonio: Ouch Lovi, I wanted to ask how you were doing. Thank you for helping me out during Jap. today. You really helped me out back there. I should sit beside you more often during that class.
Lovino: Sure.
Antonio: So what are you doing right now?
Lovino: Chatting with you,idiot.
Antonio: You’re not studying?
Lovino: Was. I’m taking a break.
Antonio: Oh. Then I can borrow you for a few minutes?
Lovino: Do whatever you want.
Antonio: Just wanted to talk about that series we were talking about during break time.
Lovino: What about?
Antonio: Well, see...
Antonio Fernandez Carriedo is one of my blockmates from my Communication Arts Course in the state university I go to. Before this, we barely said a word to each other. In fact, I was alone most of the time and he looked like he wanted to be alone as well as he never conversed with any of the other blockmates. That was during the first week. But then after another week or so, we had a chance to talk during break time while waiting for our next class.
I sat with the block, scanning through my phone an looking through pictures of the recent episode release of the drama series I’m following when I felt a presence creep behind me. I turned my body 180 degrees to the left and realized it was Antonio hovering over me, also looking at my phone. I quickly locked it and blushed. The drama series I was following was the sort of drama most people would be wary of. For a college student to be watching that sort of drama would probably turn people off. I tried to bring out the words. Something along the lines of, “Not a word of this bastard, or you’re dead.” But the words wouldn’t come out. I thought for sure he would shun me, but instead he took me by the shoulders and directed my body to him. Now that I was looking at him, I could literally see the glimmer present in his eyes.
“Was that what I think it was?”
“Wh-what was?”
“How To Get Away With Murder. “ What?
“It was in your phone. The pictures. Those were of the recent episodes right?”
“Y-yeah. What about it?”
“I finally found a friend!” He threw his arms out and took me into a tight hold from which I felt like I was about to die from air loss. He swung me around and landed me back down on my feet thankfully before the oxygen had completely left me.
“I thought I was the only one! I never thought you’d like the same series as well!”
“Yeah well, I do. And I like Oliver a lot. He’s hot.”
“I like him too!”
And just like that, I found myself in a lengthy discussion with him about the show and a lot more. He apparently liked nearly the same things I did, went to the same place I’ve been to. He’s Spanish and I’m Italian so we could pretty much speak the same language. In the few weeks we got acquainted we had somehow leveled up to becoming friends. Or so he claims.
After all, who would want to be friends with little ol’ Lovino Vargas. The Resident Bully. The Putty Mouthed Bad Tempered Unwanted Eldest son of the illustrious Vargas Family.
For someone to call me his or her friend could mean Grand Papa had used his connections to make me feel good about myself for a while then drop the bomb on me telling me he had only paid this kid to pretend to be my “friend”. Either that, or that person must be reckless and stupid and needs serious medical attention, preferably for the eyes and for the brain.
But this guy claimed he was different. He hardly knew what the Vargas family meant and thought it was just a fancy name for a tomato variety (For some odd reason, he’s into tomatoes. So much he thinks it’s a compliment to call him “Tomato Bastard”). Since that day, we would text each other or chat with each other. We were almost always together, joking around and horsing around. You’d see us either talking about stuff our other blockmates could hardly relate. In a sense, it felt comfortable being with him. And this was the first time any one was ever kind to me this way.
Since youth, I was always number two. My younger brother, Feliciano who I’m older by 10 seconds, was the cheerful adorable one. He was always number one. Everyone loved him. I loved him too, but there were times in which I wished he wasn’t the favorite. He was good at singing, painting. Everything I’m not. He was loved. I wasn’t. During our shared birthday, which is supposed to be for the two of us, I would be on the far end of the crowd, watching as Feli is showered by friends and family with gifts and compliments, while I was stuck to eat cake alone.
Nevertheless, it wasn’t always sadness in my life. For one, as nobody wouldn’t bother to ask for me, I would always be with my pen and paper, scribbling away on paper about life, romance, and adventure. I learned of my love for writing then and most of the time if I wasn’t in my room being lonely and drowning myself in hate, I would most certainly be under some tree in our giant labyrinth, writing the noon away. On rainy nights, while everyone would be asleep, I would sneak out the house and run to my favorite spot, a cliff overlooking the city of my beloved hometown, Italy. When the rain would stop, the skies would clear and the magical and mysterious beauty of the cosmos would light the sky. I would be there looking and mapping the stars. As a result to being alone most of the time, I would be buried in my books and therefore, excelled in school. It would be during school ceremonies where I would be known to the family as a pride. Although after that, it would be back to Feliciano. But I had grown accustomed to it. My lonesome became happiness. So when someone like Antonio had started talking to me, it felt so alien and I had begun to feel a strange attachment to him. The first days of college were vexing as I would again succumb to the loneliness and the fortitude of the library. Now, going to school meant I would get to see the person I now held dear. It was friendship blossoming slowly. I don’t dare tell him much about myself, but I always feel like I could tell him everything. He would tell me his secrets, therefore I felt special. We had a special connection. Even when our circle of friends grew, he would always stick to me.
Looking back on it now, it felt like it started somewhere from there. I had known it all along. I was different. I had a strong gut feeling and this feeling made me realize it a lot sooner. The friendship for me had grown to be something more than that. He became my reason to go to school. My reason for waking up in the morning. The knight in my poems. The hero of my plume. I had fallen in love with Toni. A lot faster than I thought I would.
So imagine the happiness suddenly collapsing inside of me when the entrance of an unexpected character came into the fray completely turning me upside down. Imagine seeing the one person you thought was the one. The one that finally made you feel number one suddenly make you number two.