Work Text:
ABDICATION : Abd-A-Kay-Shan
Failure to fulfill a responsibility or duty.
-
“Can Gelatin Monia please come to the counselor’s office?”
As the intercom crackled with the announcement, a green haired highschooler felt his face flush with shame, and he ducked underneath his binder of school papers. The sanctuary underneath the desk was welcoming, but it only protected him so much from the giggles of his friends sitting around him in his Geometry class. He didn’t want to go to the guidance counselor’s room, he already knew why he was in trouble! He had gotten yet another low score on a test, probably underneath a 10.
“Ugh, this again,” a purple haired girl named Lollipop Quintai teased, “I don’t understand why you can’t just let me or Teardrop tutor you. We know the material better than you do.”
Next to the two, a blue haired girl- the one stated to be Teardrop Danu- started writing on a whiteboard, and turned it over to show: [Why do you take AP Chemistry anyways? Everyone agrees that it’s one of the hardest classes ever.]
“I-I just don’t know!” Gelatin sputtered, earning another lighthearted laugh from Lollipop and a mute scoff from Teardrop.
“No, but seriously.. it IS your only AP class, but you’re somehow failing it just like the rest of your classes. Why would they let you in it to begin with? You’re not exactly..”
“Smart.” Gelatin sighed in a drawn out way.
[Not exactly,] Teardrop wrote, [You just don’t take anything seriously.]
The bell suddenly rang, indicating the end of class and forcing the trio to start leaving. Lollipop and Teardrop, who had already packed all their materials away, left with the entrance swung wide open, but Gelatin had to take a few extra seconds to shove everything into his backpack, and then chase after them. The classroom door slapped his head, and he went flying onto the ground with a dazed expression on his face. Noticing that their friend hadn’t caught up, Teardrop and Lollipop opened the door to see him rubbing his forehead absentmindedly while scooping papers back into his bag. He had forgotten to zip his bag before he fell.
“Oh for fu- Gelatin, how did you even get hit by the door?” Lollipop raised her eyebrow, “You should’ve packed up before the bell went off- You were called to the guidance office before that!”
“Oh, the guidance office?” Gelatin slung his backpack around his arm as he stood up, “I was kinda thinking about skipping that.”
“You can’t be serious right now!”
The trio exited the classroom- for real, this time- and Gelatin walked backwards as he shrugged and said “Firey and I were thinking of skipping our next class to go to that frozen yogurt place that just opened up.”
Frowning, Teardrop scribbled: [You’re skipping another class? This is the 3rd time this week. I don’t trust him.]
“Who, Firey? You can’t say that about my BOYFRIEND of all people!” Gelatin hissed.
“We absolutely can, we’re your closest friends,” Lollipop mused, “It’s like.. everywhere you go, he follows right after and comes up with some way to make it crummy. Remember how you went to that homecoming party with Bubble, and Firey showed up to spike the punch? We’re only SOPHOMORES!”
“Like that stopped you from drinking three shots,” Gelatin snorted, “Besides, it was PUNCH being spiked, everyone knows that it gets mixed with alcohol at parties. Pin should’ve served lemonade at that party instead!”
[That’s not the point. You’re going to have to try harder in your classes or else you’ll be forced to retake the whole year,] Teardrop averted her gaze.
“Don’t worry about lil ol’ me!” Gelatin softly grinned, “I’ll just cheat on the end of year fin- WOAH!”
While walking backwards, he had failed to notice that he was approaching a flight of stairs, and had tripped on the top step. He swiftly lost his balance, and while he tried to regain it, it was in vain, as he spiraled. Lollipop reached out to grab his sleeve, but before she could, someone behind Gelatin grabbed him and wrapped their arms around his shoulders.
“Woah, didn’t know you were falling for me, sweetheart,” the voice teased.
Gelatin finally got both of his feet back on the stairs, and he turned his gaze to lock eyes with.. Firey. Of course. His orange haired classmate who he had been dating for two years. The two of them were notoriously known for getting into trouble, which was the cause of Teardrop and Lollipop’s understandable concern.
“Firey! You still up to going to that frozen yogurt shop?” Gelatin asked.
Wincing, Firey crossed his arms and said, “Nah, sorry. I just got in-school suspension- AGAIN!- For helping Blocky release the frogs his boyfriend was gonna have to dissect in biology class. The school just can’t accept that I’m a savior!”
“I wonder why,” Lollipop sneered, but Gelatin ignored it and shook his head: “Ah, don’t worry about it. It just means I have to go to that counselor meeting.”
“Seriously? That’s like the fourth one they’ve BEGGED you to come to this week,” Firey barked with shock, “Why can’t they just send those assistants to come fetch you if you’re so famous?”
“I don’t know,” Gelatin said as he brushed past Firey, “But have fun with your in-school suspension, Firey.”
Blowing an overdramatic air kiss with his hand, Firey cheered “If you say so!” and ran away, going in the opposite direction of the trio.
“There it is. He didn’t even acknowledge us,” Lollipop pointed out, “I know you’re not that stupid to notice if something is wrong.”
Face growing a bit pale, Gelatin’s smile grew a bit strained and he shot daggers: “How about you both go to your super smart classes?!”
Lollipop opened her mouth, angered by his attitude, but Teardrop just yanked her by her shirt down the hallway and over to their next class, which they coincidentally shared. Now Gelatin was all alone, and with no other options, he marched over to the guidance counselor’s office. When he arrived, he screeched to a halt and took a deep breath, staring at the door with its shiny, perfect sign taunting him. Conflicted feelings swirled around in his mind, and all he could think about was how his friends were right, but not in the way they were thinking.
He had a big secret, one he was hiding from almost everyone he knew. Failing tests. Skipping classes. Causing trouble with classmates. It was all a part of a big.. not a facade, or even an act, per say, but he was not being honest with himself. It was the only way for everyone around him to keep smiling.
Sighing, the green haired student (What’s the equivalent for this? Brunettes, noirettes, blondes- what’s a green haired guy? A leafette?) opened the door and saw that the guidance counselor was waiting for him with an angry expression. Honestly, Gelatin wasn’t surprised- he had no idea why the school faculty made 2 the guidance counselor. Although they were fair and kind, they could easily get snappy and trick people into spilling their secrets. Sitting down in a tiny red stool across from the counselor, Gelatin put on his brightest smile and leaned on his stool.
“So, what brings you here? Come here often?” Gelatin smirked.
2 widened their eyes, “I.. work here?”
“Ah, I’m just messing with you, how come I’M here? Did I fail another test? It’s really not worth getting silly me out of class and down here.”
“It’s.. more complicated than that. You do poorly on nearly every single test and assignment given to you, then do JUST enough work to pass a semester with a D+ and not get into trouble. Your highest grade the entire school year has been a C in Physical Education. You’ve never been.. tested for any neurological condition, so I think the source of the problem is something else. Any trouble at home? Shouldn’t your parents- who we contact regularly- be mad at your grades?”
“Nah, they ain’t worried about it! I’m gonna own the family business when I’m older, so all I need in their eyes is a highschool diploma and a bank account.”
“I see.. What about your friends? Or your partner? Have they been pressuring you to do anything that goes against your moral beliefs?”
Faltering, Gelatin checked the time on the office wall’s clock, “Naaah. They’re nice to me, I’m nice to them, and my teachers are fun enough. Is that all?”
The guidance counselor rubbed their chin in annoyance, “Can you care to explain how you got a 0% on your latest AP Chemistry test then? It won’t give you your credits, because it was an optional test, so by all accounts, it makes no sense- We’ve given that same test to classes in this district for years, and the lowest score a participating student has received was a 6% because of family problems. You participated, and your teacher could clearly see and reported to me that you were taking your time on each question.”
“I dunno, teach, maybe I’m just stupid.”
“Nobody is stupid, Gelatin, they’re just intelligent in different ways. Normally, this wouldn’t be that big of a deal, but.. I can tell that you’re hiding something. Every single one of your test answers were somehow the opposite of what was asked, even the open-ended writing questions where you could share your own thoughts free of the lesson’s restraints.” They suddenly reached for something behind their desk, and pulled out a piece of paper, dropping it in front of Gelatin.
“Which is why, for this test, your teacher gave you a 100% score, because you are smarter than what you’re telling everyone.”
“Heheh, you su-sure you didn’t mix up me and Lollipop’s quizzes? She sure seemed sore with me earlier..”
“Lollipop received a 78% on her test, there’s no way we could’ve swapped it.”
Gelatin’s jaw dropped, and his eye twitched. No, no way! He was supposed to do as BADLY on this test as possible, fucking up every question, but 2 had seen right through him. What was he supposed to do? He was gonna have to spend so much time trying to ruin his AP Chemistry grade now that this very important test had mended it in such a foul way. Nobody was supposed to know that he was actually lying to them this whole time-
I guess that needs some explaining.
The “gifted kid burnout” is a fascinating phenomenon. The belief that putting too much pressure on someone intelligent in the education system exhausts them to the point of not caring. As a result; they stop trying on tests and assignments, their scores slip, and it’s easy to start calling them “stupid.” The passion they once had to learn or be considered talented is gone. Sometimes, this is linked or associated with depression.
Usually, this process takes place over the course of months or years of enabling, but sometimes a tragic accident can speed things up. For Gelatin, the gifted kid burnout was not a slow bonfire crackling throughout the night during his youth, before finally keeling over and dying once every resource is drained from his growing bones. No, it was a swift crash and burn, but not in the way you’d think. Nobody died, he’s never had to move houses or watch someone he cares about get arrested, and the worst of injuries he’s ever gotten is a broken nose or a scratch or two on his arm, (He has no idea how THOSE showed up, he thinks they magically appeared in his sleep.) but the emotional damage was worse.
You see, Gelatin was born real smart. The sharpest tool in the shed, one might say. At four months old, he could stand up before most babies, and by seven, he was walking around his parents’ bedroom. Very quickly he learned how to babble, although what he screamed about wasn’t the most logical. At least he knew both Spanish and English. Once he entered the tender age of two years old, he was reading magazines on the living room floor. He only retained bits and pieces of information, but he was significantly ahead of his classmates when he enrolled at actual school. His parents used to adore him, praising him for every little thing his tiny body and mind could accomplish.
People; tall, scary, and always wearing white coats and glasses, would come to his house once he was old enough to think it was a smart idea to pull all his teeth out with string, and test him with complicated papers and puzzles. Gelatin answered to the best of his abilities, he honestly did, he just.. found it all to be stupid, so his mind would wonder and he’d often space out. It frustrated them, how he didn’t fit a mold.
“He’s smart, real smart, and has potential,” he heard one of the people say to his mom one day, “But he lacks discipline. We can’t send him to any of our programs.”
Gelatin didn’t understand what that meant at the time, so he went back to playing with a Rubix cube on his small kiddy table, solving the solution in the matter of seconds. Satisfied, he scooted over to his mom and pulled at the bottom of her dress, showing her the completed cube. She took the cube like she always did whenever he solved a puzzle, handing it over to the person in the coat, but instead of her usual warm and happy expression, she looked disappointed. Her child, who could grow to be smarter than HER and her HUSBAND, was rotting his brain.
-
Disappointment was the first negative emotion Gelatin began to understand.
In preschool, it wasn’t just his mom who was disappointed, his teachers would always be so MAD at him. “Hop on one foot,” they said. Every other student would do it, but Gelatin wouldn’t. What was the point? He could hop on his foot at any other time.
When others wanted to nap, he’d be energized and make up scenarios in the playhouse, talking so loud that he woke all his classmates up. He’d eat the snacks in his lunchbox whenever others wanted to build with the blocks. Reports went home about how he “marched to the beat of his own drum,” and his dad began to join in on acting cold and ashamed.
How could their son be so badly misbehaved when he was so intelligent?
Gelatin’s classmates began to dislike him, it didn’t take a high IQ to realize that. They hated how he could read but they couldn’t. They didn’t understand how he and his family had naturally bright green hair. They were confused as to why he didn’t listen to directions. They’d poke and prod at his snacks, making fun of them with light teasing for being “foreign.” What was so different about yellow rice compared to white rice? To Gelatin, they tasted almost the exact same.
To his peers, however, it was culinary savagery, and preschool is a mercy compared to the throes of elementary. That’s where Gelatin began to process resentment.
“Does anyone have the answer to the question?” The teacher asked, dragging her marker across the whiteboard as she wrote.
“OOH, I KNOW, I KNOW! THE ANSWER IS 2!” Gelatin cheered, jumping up and down in his spot at the front of the class and banging his fists repeatedly against the classroom’s carpet.
The teacher softly sighed, “Gelatin, you didn’t raise your hand. Again.”
Everyone started laughing, and Gelatin was dumbfounded, blankly blinking as he tried to figure out why that was such a big deal. People interrupted him in conversations all the time. In fact, he didn’t understand why until recess.
It was bright outside, but there was a lot of wind blowing around, threatening to knock students over. Most of his classmates were playing “Four Corners” with a ball and a square on the ground drawn with chalk, but Gelatin was leaning against the brick wall of the school and reading a book. By now, he had already been assessed to have the reading level of a 12th grader, so going through a large novel by himself was easy. He was so invested in the plot and characters that he barely noticed a couple of other kids walking over.
“Hey Gelatin!” A girl taller than him smirked, “What are you reading?”
Glancing back at the girl, then back at his novel, Gelatin said “Oh, it’s this story about a girl who wants to be a baker, but her parents want her to be a witch instead. I really like th-the.. uh- the happy stuff!” he exclaimed with all of his elementary school maturity combined into one declaration.
The girl rolled her eyes, “BO-RING! Why don’t you come play Four Corners with us instead?”
“Yeah,” a shorter girl next to her cheered, “It’ll be fun!”
“..Ok,” Gelatin shrugged, and set his book down, “I don’t see why not.”
The young boy followed the girls over to the chalk square and waited in line to play. Usually, the last person in the square out of the four players is the one who gets out, but once Gelatin started playing, he had climbed up to being the first person in the square. Dribbling the basketball up and down with his hands, he smirked and said “3.. 2.. 1.. GO!”
He passed the ball to the person across from him, only for the latter to grab it and punch the ball as hard as possible into Gelatin’s face. He softly yelped, stumbling out of the square, and he heard someone say “GELATIN IS OUT! 2nd, 3rd, and 4th, please move up.” Gelatin crawled off to the side, then cradled his nose with his palm, which was dripping blood out of the nostrils and onto his shirt.
“H-Hey, wait a second!” He turned his head while 1st place was counting, “Why am I out? He’s the one who hurt me, that’s against the rules!”
“Nobody likes a know-it-all, Gelatin! You never shut your mouth in class, so we thought we could at least shut your NOSE!” The guy who hit him yelled as the ball was passed to him. This time, he actually followed the game’s rules and passed it to the person next to him.
“Yeah!” The taller girl from earlier sneered, “Gelatin, Gelatin, all he does is try to win!”
“Th-That’s not true! I was just keeping to myself a second ago!”
Everyone else around the chalk square started joining it, singing it with voices so cheerful and innocent you’d think it was a nursery rhyme, “Gelatin, Gelatin, all he does is try to win!”
Feeling blood began to pour out from the crevices between his fingers, Gelatin removed his hand from his nose and ran off, tears began to stream down his face like rivers. He sprinted over to the recess monitor, and, while trying to bite back the hiccups in his throat, begged “C-Can I pl-please go see the nurse..?“
“What?” The monitor glared, “You can’t be serious, recess ends in 5 minutes, can’t you just read your book in the meanwhile?”
“But I’ll bleed all over it-“
“GO BACK OVER THERE WITH EVERYONE ELSE!”
Disheartened, Gelatin slowly trudged over to where he had gently placed his book by the wall of the school. He crouched to retrieve it, then felt his eyes widen as he realized that the novel was missing. Craning his head up, he saw that in the distance everyone had placed the book in the middle of the square and were crushing it with the ball every time they passed it between each other. Some of the pages had probably bent by now! But would they listen to him? No.
With this revelation, the bell rang, and instead of going to the nurse’s office like Gelatin had hoped, the teacher had given him a tissue to stick up his nose, and resumed teaching. Blood continued to drip from the tissue onto the clothes, but he hardly noticed between the frustrated tears in his eyes and the glares of the other students eyeing him like a hawk as the teacher went about with her lesson.
After writing down a few more things on the subject, she said “Does anyone know how to do this?”
..
“Gelatin,” she said, a hint of curiosity in her tone, “Don’t you know this? You seem to always know everything else.”
Feeling the heated breath of the other students near his neck, Gelatin shook his head and mumbled, “No miss, I don’t know.” It was a total lie.
“Oh, so you’re a liar, you don’t know anything,” the teacher firmly concluded, then leaned closer to the group of students, “Do you know what happens to liars?”
“They get sent to the chokey?” One student asked, thinking this day had suddenly become a part of the “Matilda” movie.
“That’s- err, no, they get a call home to their parents.”
Gelatin opened his mouth to protest that, no, he wasn’t a liar, but then he saw how much happier all the students were with him once he didn’t answer. His mouth clicked shut faster than a door, and he lowered his head, shame burning through him. His dad might not care as much, but mom (He can’t remember a time in his life where he innocently called them “mommy” or “daddy.”) will be furious! All because he can’t follow simple instructions. Gelatin didn’t talk for the rest of the lesson, wiping his tears instead and feeling the last of his nosebleed fade away.
It was the final class of the day, so when the bell unleashed its jingle once more, he left with everyone else, trailing behind, and walked to the back of the school where parents pick their kids up. His book was still on the ground in the middle of the chalk square, but as soon as Gelatin spotted it, fate just had to reel its ugly head.
The wind from earlier began to pick up, and a gust of it swept the book into the wind, where it slammed into the parking lot of parental traffic. Gelatin, once again fearful, ran past the recess area and into the road, but it was too late. The wheels of some car had damaged it beyond repair, and another car just barely screeched to a halt before it ran him earlier. Gelatin stepped back, his sneakers screeching against the road, only to see that the driver was his mom, who was furious.
Frantically, he opened the back door of the car and hopped inside onto the leather seat, ready to face her wrath. “What is WRONG with you? WE DIDN’T RAISE YOU TO ACT LIKE THIS! Your teacher called and said that you made up stuff in class to seem smart, then you show up here with blood all over your shirt- did you fight someone?- a-and WHERE IS YOUR BOOK? The one you specifically demanded you had to bring today?”
“I-I, well, I-“
“Don’t interrupt me, Gelatin!” and as she began to back out of the parking lot, shifting the vehicle’s gears as she drove, Gelatin’s mom sighed “I just wish you were NORMAL! Why don’t you ever listen to teachers or the nice guys who come over?”
“I.. I don’t know!” Gelatin whimpered.
“Oh yeah? Well, if you’re gonna lie to me, then you can skip dinner tonight and stay in your room until you think about why you act like this.”
The drive was the easy part. The hard part for Gelatin was going home, to a place that’s meant to bring comfort and sanctuary, only to get yet another lecture for his father. Something about how “kids these days don’t think anymore” before Gelatin was being escorted upstairs to his bedroom. The door wasn’t locked- he still had to use the bathroom, after all- but it might as well have been, because he felt like he was trapped in the room.
Feeling anxiety pulse through his heart and drum under his skin, Gelatin changed out of his blood stained shirt and got into his pastel green pajamas. He flopped onto bed, and in his mind, watched the day loop over and over and over again. It hadn’t been a good one.
Everyone resented him, but he couldn’t resent them. He was the problem, after all.
And he would continue to think he was the problem, getting yelled at by teachers and then getting in trouble and then being locked up in his room all night. Gelatin wondered if skipping dinner almost every night in elementary school was supposed to make him hungry, but strangely, it didn’t. Perhaps his jello name had something to do with it? What he hated was loneliness.
Being trapped in his bedroom for hours at a time, the walls felt like they were physically slamming into him. Really, it was no surprise that he had begun to develop claustrophobia from it over time, but nobody cared. His classmates even exploited it by shoving him into closets or boxes to see how long it would take for him to freak out at the idea of being trapped.
-
Silly Gelatin, always trying to win. That’s why nobody likes you. That’s why you know what fear is like.
Speaking of freaking out, Middle school was meant to be a fresh start, eliminating all threats. The meanest of the people who targeted Gelatin had transferred to other schools in the area, and, in exchange, got replacements who were much nicer and had no idea about his reputation. He had eventually learned to tone things down, speaking at a much quieter volume and never answering the teacher’s questions until asked, so the new students were more eager to like him and thought that he was “mysterious.” Despite his lack of effort in communicating, he still got very good results on every test or assignment, and excelled despite the new stress of having letter grades instead of a checkmark. His parents, satisfied, eased up on their punishments for bad behavior.
He especially loved science classes the most. There were so many ways to experiment and control variables, to shape something into your own. That’s something Gelatin could need right now in his life.
Every single day, after school, he’d go to his science teacher's classroom and would pretend that he needed help with assignments so that he could mess with some of the vials and containers on the counters. At first, his parents were yet again mad, and forcing him to go back to his room, but after the science teacher realized that Gelatin was pretending to need help, a new phone call home patched things up, and his parents gifted him a laboratory kit on his 12th birthday so that he wouldn’t “pester adults for their important tools anymore.”
He spent hours playing with the damn thing, combining glasses of liquid in the house’s kitchen (His room wouldn’t work anymore.) to see what would happen. Would they change colors? Would they explode? He didn’t know, and that intrigued him. He liked not knowing the answers to something.
One day, he spotted something in the manual called antifreeze, which is supposed to make water not freeze under colder circumstances. Smiling, he wondered what would happen if the opposite happened, like if someone could just tap someone with water and they would freeze. Wouldn’t that be awesome?
Spending even more hours trying to figure out what would happen if the reverse occurred, Gelatin finally developed freeze juice. You pour the serum into something that can carry liquid, like a gardening can, then use that to hit someone with the serum. Afterwards, whoever (or whatever) was hit with the freeze juice would freeze up like a discount Frozen character. The problem now was that it hadn’t been tested.
Pouring the freeze juice into one of his toy guns, Gelatin concluded that his parents would definitely not be pleased if he tested them at school? Maybe his newly made friends would help? He just needs to appeal to their desires.
“Wanna come to my house?“ he inquired during a group project. His friends would always go to him during these kinds of things despite his timidness.
They all nodded, adding their “Sure, no problem!” and “Ok, what time?”
Everything was going great. The arrangements for the hangout were made, all the parents had approved of the meetup and safely dropped off their kids at Gelatin’s house. It was the hottest day of the year, but also the prettiest with its soft cotton clouds of precipitation and the sky glimmering with sunlight. All of the freeze serum had been transferred to whatever toys and gardening cans Gelatin could get his hands on, and he watched as everyone got ready to fire them at each other. The experiment was simple: they’d shoot at each other with the freeze serum in his backyard, and then the sun would melt them back to their normal form afterwards.
Smiling, he watched his friends and then clutched the toy whistle around his neck. Lips pressed against it, he cheered “ARE YOU GUYS READY FOR THIS?!”
“YEAH!” Half a dozen or so voices hollered in response.
Blowing his whistle, Gelatin’s eyes lit up as the toy guns fired and freeze serum shot at everyone in sight. The ice would appear at their feet, then engulf their legs, before eventually piercing their arms and trapping their faces. His friends were all eventually sealed in ice, and Gelatin laughed, happy to see his experiment worked. His intelligence had finally done something good for once! All of his friends would probably agree once the ice melted. Good thing that the sun always does its job!
Except.. it didn’t. Gelatin waited. And waited. And waited. Nothing.
The sun was as hot as ever, and some of the ice was dripping down, but they were all still frozen. Maybe doing the opposite of antifreeze had consequences. Panic began to slowly creep up on him like how a bug crawls down an arm, and his dad opened the slider door that led out to the backyard and stepped onto the back porch. He was talking about something, trailing a conversation from the inside of the house, but stopped when he saw Gelatin staring at him with a nervous expression and the popsicle people behind him.
“I don’t even- Gelatin, what is this?!” The father asked, his eyebrow raised.
Gelatin stammered, feet pricked by the grass, “I ju-just.. I made a creation with that lab kit, and I-I wanted to use it with my fr-friends..!”
“And they’re FROZEN? It’s the middle of summer, how is that even possible?”
“I-“
“Enough!” his dad sighed, walking back over to the door, “I’m calling their parents. You need to find a way to melt your classmates before they get here, or else you’ll never have anyone over again.”
Freezing up, almost like his friends, Gelatin began to frantically look around the backyard for a solution. The sun was, like, a million degrees high, how would anything else not melt his creation?! God, what on earth has he done?! He bit back his frustration and jumped the stairs up to the back porch, eyes darting, before he noticed a table with a few things on it. A hammer, one that his dad used sometimes to build stuff in a traditional masculine manner. Gelatin shook his head, fearing that using it would somehow break the people in the ice as well, and turned to a hot pink blow dryer for hair. His mom liked to use it, and perhaps the hot air that blasted out of it once it was plugged in would suffice. Yet as he reached for it, he couldn’t help but stare at the lighter next to it, perched on top of an ashtray with abandoned cigarettes.
Yeah, he used the lighter to melt the ice.
This had disastrous results, as while it melted the ice fast and he could wave the firemaker around with swiftness and ease, he accidentally burned some of his friends’ arms or legs. Their parents weren’t very happy to find out when they arrived.
“MOMMY, HE SET ME ON FIRE!” One comically sobbed, acting like a toddler instead of a middle schooler.
“Young man, why would you ever do that?” A concerned guardian asked.
“I was melting the ice after I froze them all, I was solving the problem!” Gelatin cried.
A mother gasped, then grabbed her kid’s arm, “That’s it, none of us should ever come over here!” The rest of the parents nodded, and they marched over to where Gelatin’s mom and dad were in utter disbelief, saying “This is why none of us ever wanna hang out with you, you have that little freak of a son!”
The green haired boy quivered as the group of parents and kids left, avoiding eye contact with his parents. Voice cracking, Gelatin asked nervously: “I-I’m not a bad son, ri-right..? I ne-never mean any harm..”
“I’m throwing that little toy of yours out,” his mother flatly responded.
Gelatin didn’t even try to stop her, too scared of the consequences. He barely even noticed her grabbing his laboratory kit and throwing it into the trash. He didn’t even blink when his dad took the trash bag to the local neighborhood dumpster and tossed it inside. He was too frozen with fear, anxiety represented through him tugging at his hair. There goes all of his friends, and the little regained respect his parents had retained for him. If he had had any siblings, they would’ve despised him.
To say that he was internally freaking out was an understatement.
-
After numerous harsh glares, the last day of school ended with near perfect grades. The shackles of academia were free from his wrists.. only to be replaced with the ball and chain of a summer job. Gelatin had gone along with his dad for a car ride, only to wind up right in front of a steakhouse restaurant. Woah, treated to a meal? His family wasn’t poor or anything, the middle schooler thought, but going out to eat?!
“It’s time for you to start working in the family business,” his father spoke.
Oh. That explains it.
Like a moron, however, Gelatin incredulously blurted “You go to work?!”
He expected another glare and threats to tell Gelatin to go home to his room. Instead, his dad laughed and patted his shoulder “Of course I do, son. Come on, you can go behind the counter today.”
That was new. After they walked inside the building, Gelatin flipped open the little door on the side of the front counter and stepped inside the little area. There was a cash register in front of him, and behind him was a line of papers clipped to the wall and a window that showed the entire kitchen of the restaurant. If he had to guess, his mom worked the counter and tracked the money while his dad cooked all of the food. No wonder they weren’t rich.
There were two green aprons hanging up, and as his dad grabbed one and disappeared into the kitchen, Gelatin felt obligated to grab one as well. Tying it around his torso area and slinging the top around his neck, he tiptoed himself over the counter, waiting for customers while his dad turned on the grill and got to work. Tapping his foot impatiently, he started muttering to himself under his breath. He didn’t even register a customer walking up to the cash register. (Get it?)
“Hola! Quiero el buen bistec,” an orange haired guy around his age grinned.
Pausing for a second, as Gelatin tried to figure out what the fuck that was actually supposed to mean, he responded with “Marchano! Su madre està la cama.”
“Hey, my mom is a loyal wife!”
Laughing, the green haired one asked “You know English?”
“It’s sort of a requirement to stay afloat in this neighborhood, y’know. Even if the Spanish speakers did listen to me, they would know that I’m intentionally saying stuff poorly. That and my charm, I suppose.”
“Charm?” Gelatin titled his head.
“How about you get me my order, and I’ll elaborate.”
After his dad had finished cooking the steak, Gelatin placed it on top of a tray and handed it to his orange haired peer, who by now was sitting at a table. Gelatin sat down across from him, watching the other cut the steak and then take bites out of his food absentmindedly. He didn’t look familiar at all, which was weird, because he had the same classmates every school year-
“You should stop muttering what you’re thinking out loud,” the guy chirped as he took another bite, “I just moved here two months ago, and my family didn’t exactly have time to enroll me in any program.”
“Oh.”
“Oh, indeed. What’s your name, anyways? I’m Firey! Firey Opolo.”
Gelatin tugged at his apron, hesitating. He didn’t exactly have a good reputation in the neighborhood.. “Opolo like the sun god Apollo..?- Uhm, my name is- well, I- Bob.”
Firey rolled his eyes, “Yeah, right! That’s the dumbest name I’ve ever heard, everyone around here has names like Flower or Leafy. You have green hair, so you probably have some name like Pukey.”
“MY NAME’S NOT PUKEY- Fine, I can’t get anything past you, can I? It’s Gelatin.”
“No last name?”
“You don’t need it, it’s right on the sign of the restaurant. What brings you here, anyway? This isn’t exactly a busy diner.”
Finishing the last of his meal, Firey wiped his face furiously and huffed “Can’t a guy just sit down and have a meal? You’re meant to be working behind the cashier, and you don’t see me questioning why you aren’t over there.”
“Actually, it’s the cash register,” Gelatin automatically corrected.
“Don’t do that, acting like a dork? People hate that! You gotta give ‘em the charm I was talking about earlier.”
“What charm?”
“It’s easy, you have to say the craziest things in such a lighthearted way that everyone finds it funny. Real funny,” Firey threw a $10 bill on the table, said “Keep the change,” then finger gunned as he walked out of the restaurant.
“BUT I HAVE TO KEEP THE CHANGE ANYWAYS, IT’S THE WAITER’S T- Oh. I get it now,” Gelatin stood up and held the money in his palm, “He didn’t pay the full tip.”
Despite being mildly scammed, Gelatin felt happy, and he walked back over to the cashier register. He put the money inside of it with the rest of the bills, and went back to tiptoeing. His dad, who had been cleaning the windowsills, turned to him.
“That seemed like a nice kid, you should act more like him.”
Nodding, Gelatin raised the volume of his voice, saying “Maybe I should!”
That was where the crash and burn really happened.
Eyes brightening, his dad laughed, and went back to the kitchen. Firey was right, people like you when you have energy to your name but not the book smarts to go with it. Now, when summer ends, it’s just a question of whether or not he’ll go to the same school as him..
-
The rest is pretty easy to put together with contextual clues. Middle school ended, and highschool started. Firey grew enamoured with Gelatin, and professed his “undying” love at the skatepark one day while they were hanging out there. Firey had just fallen off his skateboard, and Gelatin had sprinted over. Not the most romantic setting to be asked out at. Not wanting to deal with the theatrics of heartbreak and drama, Gelatin had accepted his confession and started dating him. It felt hollow and unreal, and this was only supported by how much trouble Firey dragged him into. Sure, they always got out of it by charming the people around him, but it was empty. How many times could he fuck up an assignment and then laugh it off?
The bleakness was broken when Gelatin met Lollipop and Teardrop in freshman year. All the middle schools combined into one district highschool, they had bonded through their classes and then became friends through parties and clubs. Lollipop and Teardrop would always tease Gelatin for getting bad grades and tripping over stuff in a nice way, the way you talk with close friends or wine aunts. Gelatin didn’t mind as long as it helped spread the idea that he was dumb or clumsy. He even had picked AP Chemistry as a class to spend more time with them.
The warmth returned to his parents once he showed to them that no, he wasn’t a little smartass who wasted potential and made his bloodline look like fools, he was totally stupid in every subject. All he had to do now was pass highschool, and then inherit the family business. He’d live a comfortable life, maybe marry Firey if it meant getting a bit more money out of it, and that would be all.
That counselor, 2, was getting in the way of everything. All of that anger and shoving and isolation and disappointment directed at Gelatin would not be wasted because one person saw through it all. He was going to fail every test if it meant that nobody else would find out the truth about this shit.
Going for his best fake laugh, Gelatin said “Oh, wow! I never thought I’d get such a high score.. I don’t know what to say. Thanks 2, you’re a great counselor!”
Surprised to be complimented for once, 2 stuttered “Al-Always a pleasure?”
Jumping up from his stool and grabbing the paper, Gelatin winked at 2, then exited the guidance counselor’s office. Class had started a few minutes ago, so all the hallways were desolate and empty. Expression darkening, Gelatin walked until he saw a trash can resting in between two stacks of lockers. He bit his lip as he dug through his pants pockets, then pulled out a lighter. It was one that Firey had gifted him for their anniversary, a pretty little thing that could make sparks fly. He activated it, then tilted it over his paper, letting the flames lick the parchment. Once it started burning, he dropped the paper into the trash can, and headed off to his class with the now concealed lighter.
He was tired of all of these expectations, and he was going to abdicate from them if it was the last thing he ever did.