Chapter III
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A proud man is always looking down on things and people; and, of course, as long as you are looking down, you cannot see something that is above you. You produce pleasure in your own achievement and use them to create boundaries. When you want something, you decide it to be something better, that your appearance comes as a finality of such worth of that something. And as long as you don’t let go of such pride, you will always move forward—while blindly going down.

            Pride is a piece of the lesson. It shows cruel reality to those who use their own status to create boundaries and shameless pick on someone. That once they start from there, they can never go back from facing the consequences those feelings of pride might bring.

            I’ve never been a person that was born with such pride—though, was it because I was born in a middle-income family? Or was it because I actually had nothing to be prideful about? I guess it’s because I am still trying to move forward from the skies that are the limit.

            “For starters, I’d want you to look at this high school once more and say those words to me again.”

            “What—I don’t want to, stupid.”

            “Then why do you want to be expelled?”

            Let me start guessing, and by the book—it’s because of her pride, isn’t it? Well, I can probably understand that swallowing some one-tier candy is worse than keeping the candy. Albeit, if there is no other candy other than that, then you can’t complain about keeping it or swallowing it whole. If anyone dared to change their current situation, it would be by causing a mess—a childish tantrum.

            “Look, I don’t really hate this school, and I don’t think I feel anything other than that. They have anything, and virtuously speaking, they do an outstanding job of keeping this place safe of work. However, I don’t like the fact that of all country, I was dragged in this pit bottom hell; that’s not what I expected.”

           In short, you really hate this place that you’d rather kill yourself or kill someone else to get out of this situation. Still, this place isn’t some ‘pit bottom hell’ or the house of Hades—it’s just a regular high-standard high school that everyone enrols in to become better at something. In fact, why are you complaining about being in this school? You are so whimsical, you know that.

            “I decided it would be better if you could act as my accomplice in making me expelled. Like maybe trying to frame someone that he assaulted me so I can emotionally get my way out of here.”

            Uh—don’t you even care about that person’s future?

            “If we’re speaking some pointless conspiracy, then keep me out of it. It’ll only serve as a  suspension, and if that isn’t enough, it’ll destroy both of our images. If that happen, then your parents will be a shame of you—”

            “I don’t care.”

            “What the hell do you mean by ‘I don’t care’? You should, or else we will have to face the consequences.”

            “I don’t care if they hate me—or rather, it would be better if they would disown me.” Looking at the ground dejectedly, she said.

            I also don’t care about your family situation—your rebellion. Otherwise, I will be, on the other hand of these situations already panning a gateway for a prideful fool like you. Although I don’t think such a thing will happen, as I wasn’t born to become a babysitter.

            However, with money, fame, or relationship—let’s put that one aside. My mind might change for the slightest bit of interest, and I might as well mean it to myself. Besides, her life isn’t something so important that I’d prevent myself from helping her. I might as well use this as another way to make money. But is this really what I want?

            Seriously, why am I thinking so deeply about this case?

            Pick a poison—for all I care, and that’s where I am going.

            “Now that I have told you, what do you want to do?” She declared.

            “I…” As I make head or tails of this situation, I came into coordination within the scope of my heart that I realized my answer. To accept and lose dignity and pride, but to decline, is to profusely chase her mind in another path.

            What puzzling consequences… to lose dignity and pride, huh? Isn’t that what she is going after for, or does she not know that?

            I sighed, “Before I come into my decision, I want to ask you something. It won’t take long, so please listen carefully.” She jerked her head, perplexed. “Do you really want to be expelled?”

            “Obviously—stupid.”

            Ouch…

            “Then let me state it in another way—won’t you calm down, Charlotte?”

            Right in my eyes, a vision of improvisation came into my mind as if they were already there. Therefore, whatever she responds—unpredictable or not. I will always be one level above her, and so forth. I will keep up the composition until I can change her mind.

            She breathes in-and-out as she crossed her arm, “I am calm for your information.”

            I should force this topic to particular something she would know herself.

            “Are you sure about that?” Her brow moved downward—confused. “I’ve never met a person as reckless as you, and never once have I ever seen someone oblivious as you. But—”

            “Are you insulting me, you stupid?!” She madly stood, but I ignored her.

            “Have you ever considered the reason why you came here?”

            She sat back, silent. “It… It’s because of some stupid mistake I’ve made—stupid, a foolish mistake in my exam, and because of that, I was dragged down here. Because of that…”

            “Through pride, we are ever deceiving ourselves. But deep down below the surface of the average conscience, a still, small voice says to us, something is out of tune.” With my now-prepared words being spoken, I seemed ecstatic—because I had been able to say a line that couldn’t be told without the right situation. “You kept on looking down on everyone around you—that’s why you’ll never be able to go forward but downward.”

            “Are you telling me that I, because of my pride, is the reason that I have come this far?”

            “Of course.” I continued. “You indulge in superiority and loathe the burden below you. You deem judgment out-loud and claim it as an assertion: you, who have been thinking the better of you. To everyone expecting a lot of you—have become disappointed at you and your pride. So I ask, has there been a mistake that you’ve come here?”

            There isn’t, aren’t there?

            I have finally come to the outcome—but the climax was nowhere to be seen. And even if I called this the climax, then where is the outcome? The bits of the piece went missing, worrying me for it could lead to a bad ending. However, right now, as I have finished my words. I know I don’t have any more room to continue this discussion.

            “You… you—” She stood with a face so distorted—she could scare every single ghost around me. But that’s if they exist. “You don’t know a single thing about me. You don’t even know what I am feeling right now. I don’t care if I am prideful. Why won’t you just help me and get this over it? I don’t get it. I just want my life back from the past! So shut the hell up, you stupid!” After such a childish tantrum, she ran away, crying.

            What a fool. Seriously, a stupid fool. If not a fool, then what can I use to classify a fool like her. If not ‘The Magician’ or ‘The Arcana,’ Then what am I supposed to say about her? I don’t know—maybe ‘The Clown’?

            Does that even exist?

            Why am I even obsessed with calling someone a fool? This is such a foolish thing to ask.

            “Hmm… this is an interesting turn of events.”

            A mischievous has appeared. This time, this person wore a formal business dress—clearly with those black well-cut pantsuit, brown closed-toe heels, and dark tights. Well—that’s some lovely tights.

            “What are you doing here, Christine? Or should I say, Principal?” I all-knowingly asked.

            It might come as a surprise, but the Principal of this high school is actually my niece: Christine Heirloom. Well, what a strange world. What can I say? Now, I just wanted to say that even if we are connected to each other. It doesn’t mean that I could easily sneak myself into this high school. I mean, I really wanted to just jump here without doing anything tedious.

            And here I am, relieved that you are the only person I can casually talk to.

            “Oh, don’t worry about me, Malcolm. I was just listening to the whole discussion of you two. What can I say, I can’t blame you for Charlotte’s… childish tantrum?”

            “You’ve read right through me.”

            “As a student who was born with too many expectations and praises, it’s no wonder why she would feel that way.” She sighed as she put her fingers in her forearm. “But meeting her, as well as breaking her, you better apologize to her.”

            “Eh—you think she’d forgive me?” I retort. “In the first place, this is the first time I have seen her here. I don’t even know what’s her problem. Expulsion or comeback—mumbo jumbo. What’s her problem?”

            She wasn’t wearing our uniform either. It must have been custom made or whatever.

            “Don’t be an insect about it.” She punched my head softly. “Well, you actually surprised me with that guts of yours. I thought you were just a suppressed introverted kid who minded your own business.”

            “I thought so too.”

            I guess some things never change, and even after working so hard to change my way of handling life—I always keep on reverting back to who I am.

            “What—have you actually fallen in love?”

            “Dream on.”

            “I knew you’d say that. Anyway, Charlotte was born into a robust and influential family—pretty impressive, you’d think? I think so, and living a life upstairs doesn’t make it seem like she is experiencing heaven. She is just like you, but unlike you, you live downstairs, and it’s hot.”

            “I know that. It’s just that meeting the real deal just pisses me off than the one in some drama television. It would be quite a predicament if she came at me with full force—like assassinating me using hitmen.”

            “Scaredy-cat, as always. If she was able to do that, then she could have easily transferred schools, stupid.”

            I am not.

            “Eh… so it’s a family situation, huh?”

            “I don’t know about her family situation, but you should take care of yourself—even if you know you won’t get assassinated. You just incurred a spoiled person’s heart.”

            A spoiled person’s heart…

            “Was I really that romantic?” A rhetorical question asked with such calmness.

            She punched me again, softly, and said, “For goodness sake, stop fooling around. Let’s go to my office. I could at least help you with some information you’ll probably need.”

            I was about to say, ‘What? Are we going to do some night lectures together?’ innuendo, but I realized I’ll seriously get punched. You know, it’s my habit of keeping a casual conversation with my niece because they are the only people I talk to. I wouldn’t stumble between my words, and I could keep on using some slangs we would know.

            “What information?”

            “About Charlotte Reyn Fernando—oh, what a long name.”

            Indeed. Suppose anyone named me with a three-worded name. In that case, I’d beat the hell out of them for reasons that it’s so hard to write and prone to turning into a nickname. Although there is another way, and that’s to use some dirty money to change my name. However, I was born in a middle-income family and supposed that changing my name as if my current name didn’t exist would work.

            “If you want some other information. Then I guess I can be your info broker.”

            “I don’t have any money.”

            As I said, I was born in a middle-income family. If you’re letting me deal with something that correlates to money, then with great appreciation, please pay it for me.

            I stood and realized that the scenery beside me has changed from the rain—or rather, I didn’t know that it was raining, and I don’t think I can do anything about it. Without any more interest, I shrugged it off and left it like that, finally walking with the Principal in the hallway.

            “Oh—hey, you boycotted class again, you genius.”

            “Who are you, my mom?”

            “Your guardian—you lonely virgin.”

            “Please, I am asking you to stop putting insults at the end of your statements from now on.”

            Those words hurt in another spectrum, like an arrow in the knee.

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