Liam

Time is really a mysterious thing. Sometimes, you feel like it is moving slowly, and other times, you can't keep up with it. But for me, time has stopped. A whole year went by and I am still the younger me. As if things weren't already bad, I had to lose my memories as well.

The crystal piano stood in the middle of the garden. The music sheet settled on the stand; a bit wrinkled on its edge. Drizzle fell on the glass surface, shining with ethereal beauty against the golden sunlight. But it was left untouched. As tempting as it looked, no one went towards it.

Life really is—

"Mister Liam, it would be nice if you would stop daydreaming in the middle of the class." I broke out of my trance as the whole class filled with laughter.

"Sorry ma'am." I apologised as the teacher turned towards the blackboard.

That was embarrassing.

"I hope that next time everyone will do the homework." The bell rang as the teacher walked out of the classroom.

"You okay, Liam?" Yuna stood by my side as he looked out of the window. He rested his hand on the window sill.

"Yeah, just feeling . . . something . . ."

"Oh—"

"Yuna! Miss Peach is calling you! She'll be in the staff room."

"I'll come in a minute." Yuna looked down at me, with an unsure expression.

"Go, I'll be fine."

Yuna sighed, before nodding his head. "I'll be back soon." He glanced at me; an unsettling look on his face before rushing out of the room.

I let out a tired sigh, resting my head on my arm as I gazed out of the window.

Many feelings are piling up inside of me, but I can't just dump them on Yuna. I already have troubled him a lot.

These past few days were rough. With school work piling up—plus playing basketball again—one could say my mind and body was having a hard time keeping up. I needed to rest, something that I have been taking a lot lately, but I just can't help it.

My eyes wandered outside, staring at the clouds. I wish I was like them—nothing to worry about and just moving at your own pace. But then again, I would have to fall on the earth soil, probably joining the waters in the sewage. Which doesn't sound like a good idea.

"Hello." My eyes flickered, staring back into the crystal blue eyes in front of me.

"Move away, Cecilia." She pouted at my remark, moving a bit closer. There was very little space between us.

"You looked bored, so I thought of saying hello." She moved away and rested her hands on the desk. "So, what has been going on?"

"Nothing much, other than school."

"Okay, and what else?"

I hesitated. "I am playing basketball again."

"You're what?!" Cecilia exclaimed, settling herself in the seat in front of me. "Why didn't you tell me about it?"

"I was either too busy swimming through my assignments or too tired after my daily practice with Yuna and Sho."

"You're friends with Sho now?" She asked, her expression slightly changing.

"Yeah, I am. I guess. Why do you ask?" My question threw her off guard as she looked away.

"It's just, you really weren't that close with Sho in the past."

"I wasn't?" This information was new to me. "I mean, we both got along pretty well, so I thought we might have been friends in the past."

"Except me and Yuna, you didn't hang out with anyone else."

"Oh." I was speechless. I mean, what was I supposed to say to that?

"Well, it's good that you are talking to more people." She smiled, resting her arm on my desk as she turned towards the window. "The weather is fine today, isn't it?"

"Yeah." I spoke in agreement, looking out of the window as I noted the clear sky.

I guess today will be a peaceful day—

"Where is Liam?!"

I spoke too soon. Fuck, I jinx myself.

"Samuel, what do you want from him?" I looked at Cecilia, who was currently standing in front of me, shielding me from looking at what was going on.

"It's none of your business. Just go back to class." Samuel spat.

"I'm not your slave. I can go back to class whenever I want."

I heard Samuel chuckle. "You should be happy that you are having the privilege of talking to me."

"Right, talking to a dipshit asshole is a privilege."

"You—" I slammed my hand on the desk, getting everyone's attention, as I got up from my seat.

"Cecilia, that's enough." I rested my hand on her shoulder. I leaned closer to her ear. "Let's not turn it into a huge thing."

"But it's him who—Liam?!"

My body jerked back, hitting against the desks, as I crashed on the ground. I held my nose, feeling blood slowly coming out of it. That Samuel had to punch me in the face out of all the places. I should feel kind off thankful that he didn't hit that place.

If his punch to the nose is this powerful, only heavens could wonder how powerful his kick would have been.

"I guess Liam isn't that strong for a—" A splash of water was heard as Samuel got cut mid-sentence. A couple of murmurs were heard. I was too occupied with the burning pain on my nose as I had my eyes closed shut.

"Liam, are you okay?" Cecilia crouched beside me, removing my hand from my nose as she let out a gasp. "Fuck, you have a nose bleed." I blinked my eyes a couple of times. Cecilia pulled her handkerchief out as she kept it under my nose.

"Sit up and keep your head straight." I slowly sat up, holding the handkerchief in place.

"I'll deal with you later." Samuel spoke in anger as he stomped out of the classroom, his white shirt now wet, which was sticking to his body. It looked like he pulled someone with him.

"What happened to him? How did he get wet?"

"I was so busy looking after you that I didn't notice what had really happened. Anyway, that asshole deserved it." She got up, lending a hand out to me which I accepted. I settled back in my seat, still gripping on the handkerchief as Cecilia looked at me with concern.

"You should go to the infirmary. You know, in case something serious happened."

"I'm totally fine." I removed the handkerchief, only for Cecilia to keep it back on my nose.

"Idiot! You're still bleeding." She firmly held the handkerchief, as I stared at her. Noticing my gaze, she spoke. "What?"

"I wonder how you guys manage during that time of the month."

She sighed. "You really have an odd timing of picking this subject up."

"But still, how do you guys do it?"

"You know, just going with the flow."

Cecilia

"There. All done." I dusted my hands, coming down from the ladder. "I guess that's enough for today." I looked at Oliver, who was busy reading a book.

I shook my head as I snatched the book from her grasp. "Hey! Give it back—"

The librarian shushed us, glaring at us from her book as Oliver apologised to her. "Sorry."

I chuckled lightly, settling in the chair opposite to her as I observed the book in my hand. "Finding Light in the Dark? What genre is this book?" I asked as Oliver snatched the book back.

"Romance. Filled with angst and bitter-sweet moments. You must check this book out."

"You want me to read a book that is going to make me cry my eyes out?"

"Blame the writer. Not me."

"So, what is the story about?" I asked, staring at the title of the book, printed in golden letters. "Typical romance genre book?"

Oliver shook her head. "Rather than focusing on the story of two people falling in love, it's more about the feeling of love itself."

I crossed my arms, leaning back on the chair. "That sounds interesting. I might give it a shot." I reached my hand out, about to grab the book. But Oliver moved the book away.

"Not yet. Before I give you this book, you have to answer a question. Be honest."

"Okay, what is the question?"

"What is love to you?"

The air felt warm. I felt myself standing in the middle of a meadow. My closed on their own, feeling the breeze pass as the flora danced along with it. The fresh grass was under my feet, feeling as if I was walking on clouds. My eyes opened, my gaze piercing through the beautiful flowers as my eyes fell on a particular one. Somehow, I knew which flower it was. Even though it was barely visible among other bright flowers, I was able to see it.

White clovers . . .

They look so beautiful . . .

"Cecilia!" I flinched, blinking my eyes as Oliver pouted her lips. "You didn't give me the answer to my question."

I smiled, feeling my heart warming up. "Love is like a beautiful meadow to me."

"A meadow?" Oliver asked, visibly confused. "Why would you use the word 'meadow'?"

"I don't know. It was the first thing that came to my mind."

"Oh, don't tell me you met your first love in a meadow—" The bell rang. Oliver's eyes widened as she quickly collected her bag. "I have to go for the after-school classes. You can take the book. Just make sure it's in good condition."

"I will." She took her bag and dashed out of the library.

"Quiet!" The librarian shouted as silence settled in the library.

I grabbed the book, opening the first page as I settled myself in the chair. "The things you do for love."

'Love is a silly feeling. A feeling that warms up even the coldest hearts. Even though we might not notice it, we all crave for it. In some way or another, we all want it. Sometimes we get it. Other times, others reach them first. The love that we wanted for ourselves, snatched away mercilessly.

But the worst feeling yet has to be rejection. Not the type where you get rejected by your love. The one, where even though you haven't confessed to them, seeing them with someone else crashes your heart. But for me, seeing you everyday is everything to me.'

A drop of water fell on the word 'you' as I immediately wiped it. As more drops of water began to fall on the book, I realised that I was crying.

"Are you hurt?" A gentle and soothing voice reached my ears as I looked up. A boy of my age stood in front of me, his little hand reaching out to me. "That bruise looks bad, let me treat it for you."

"But I don't know you . . ." I whimpered, tears falling down one by one.

"It's okay. As soon as we treat that bruise of yours, we'll get to know each other." The boy smiled, the ends of his lips turning up. "Come on, now let's get your leg treated."

"W-What's your name . . ."

"Oh? My name? It's . . ."

A distant memory that I had almost forgotten.

I looked down, the title of the chapter catching my eye as a mystic feeling erupted from my chest.

The things you do for love . . .