Chapter Text
Otto Weber
What is love?
That’s a question I find myself asking every now and then. It sneaks up on me like a thief in the night. You can look it up. But it’s never the same answer. Someone writes that love is a selfless thing. Something you cannot control. Something you cannot force. But if I can’t have it, then I wish for the desire to possess it leaves me. So that I can live a peaceful life without an appetite for a partner.
I wake up at 9:35. Five minutes later than I usual do. I had been running late for the past few days. I sit up slowly and run my hands through my messy black hair. All I can think of is how much I need a haircut. How stupidly long my hair is. How unflattering it appears on my person. But at last, I stand up to get ready for the day.
Today was a new day. Something new could happen. Maybe something good. But we both know that nothing really good ever happens in this cursed world. I walk into the bathroom and stare at my reflection. Dark bags under my eyes. A few pimples. But what can I do? It’s not like some random cream will just heal it. Even if it does, it’ll just come back. I don’t care about my appearance anymore. It’s unnecessary. It’s a waste of time. So, instead of whining about trivial problems, I grab my toothbrush. I tilt my head as I squirt the remaining paste from the tube. God. I need to save money to buy some more toothpaste. I slowly bring it to my mouth and begin to brush my teeth.
That’s when my phone dings. A notification sound I only hear when Mr. Vanderbilt texts me. I slowly grab it and check the message. It’s simple, but the tone is clear.
“Head to the office immediately. I’ve got a new assignment for you.”
Great. A new assignment. It’ll be horrible, like always. With my luck, I might just die on this very assignment. Plus, that god awful partner I always have to work with ruins the task ever single time I think something good might actually happen. I finish brushing my teeth halfheartedly, then leave the house in a casual outfit.
The walk to the office is not pleasant… but it seems like everything else in my life isn’t exactly great either, so I suppose it’s on point. As I fidget with the zipper on my coat, I see some kids my age. Smoking and killing their lungs. I hate smoking. I hate cigarettes. I hate people my age. They should be in school. They should be learning about how much nicotine can hurt the brain. The body. The soul.
It’s not my body. I don’t care enough about immature teenagers who skip class to look like tough shit. I simply walk past, ignoring the lingering scent of smoke as I move further away from them.
I don’t live on the nice side of town. I hear gunshots and sirens all the time. But is there really even a nice side of anywhere? I mean, the world is cruel no matter who or where you are. So, it never bothers me that I can’t afford being where those millionaires are. I make my way to the bus stop. For a few seconds, it feels like the world has gone quiet. I’m left alone with my thoughts. But not before I’m interrupted by a couple yelling at each other. I take a seat at the bus stop and look at the ground, but listen. I could barely make out what they were saying… but I didn’t need to. Just seeing this must’ve been a sign. Love is a waste of time. Love is irrational. Love is irrelevant.
I look up and see the bus. But today is different. It’s not the sweet middle aged lady driving. It’s a mean faced man who doesn’t have one strand of grey hair. I slowly stand up and get into the bus and pay, then walk into the back. He didn’t even bother smiling at me. I hate it. I hate how much I wanted a smile from someone today. Would it kill you to crack a smile? But then again. . . I probably act the same way. I sit all the way in the back and sigh, leaning my head against the window as I look outside. The day has been horrible, despite it barely even beginning. I can’t even imagine how horrible it’ll be later.