My friend had been asking me about my “disappearance” from my blog. These are the reasons: homework, tests and The Wizard of Oz. The play’s going to perform on Monday 16, Tuesday 17 and Wednesday 18! I can’t wait to go on the stage. Besides, we’ve practiced really hard and did a thorough full rehearsal on Friday from 10 in the morning until 6 in the evening, despite it being a weekend. I really wish the play would be flawless.
Also, I’ve realised that I haven’t written the stories for Valentine’s Day and April Fool’s! To make up for it, here’s chapter 1 for my “challenge”. You see, my friend dared me (or something) to write a book over the summer holiday, which apparently doesn’t start until June, but I started the story anyway. It may not be perfect – that’s why I’m asking you guys to read it as my online editors – but I hope the story and my feelings that I’ve poured into the story finds its way into your hearts. So, enjoy!
1 – Present from me to you
The corridors were quiet, which equally meant as free time for the guards. Unbeknown to them, the woman sneaked up behind some of the guards and dosed them to sleep, while the man beat the living out of them. They’ve kidnapped a lady and her gentleman and used their flamboyant clothing as a disguise for entering the meeting hall.
Entering the crowded room, the flaxen-haired man and the ginger-haired woman glanced from side to side, observing any suspicious or eye-catching activities. All of the rows in the front were taken so they had to take the seat farthest from the polished oak-wood podium. The silent chattering of the handsomely dressed audience was worse than the shouting of a howler monkey – to accompany that, an ominous atmosphere seemed to hang among those at the back rows.
The woman nudged the man. “What’s with the situation? I thought the meeting’s supposed to be starting.”
“Just wait,” the man whispered back, “The only thing we must check is if we blend in with the others. Honestly, this blouse is too frilly –”
“So who’s our target again?”
“He’s called Dr. Fe –”
Just then, the heavy doors opened with a slam. A man in his fifties walked down the red carpet, his head held up exposing a large amount of pride. He was accompanied by his butler, known as Kleido; he was also the worst enemy for both the woman and the man. It was a good thing they sat at the back, otherwise Kleido would’ve broken their necks at the first glance.
The man stepped up to the podium, his powerful aura overpowering the gloomy crowd of beautifully dressed aliens. Meanwhile, Kleido scanned the crowd like a lighthouse. Immediately, the woman and the man tried their best to hide their faces behind the heads of the lifeless persons.
The woman brushed aside her fringe from her clean forehead. “Really, I wish that freak would drop the robot act!”
“I don’t even think he’s human…” mumbled the man.
“Greetings, my fellow men,” boomed the voice from the podium, “and welcome to the newcomers. It is our pleasure to have such young and enthusiastic workers like you all.” Although his words were encouraging, his words were bland. “Now, we will give you a short introduction of the current situation. Kleido, if you please.”
Kleido stepped up and unrolled a ridiculously long script from his inner jacket pocket. He cleared his throat and started reading, his monotone voice filling the room.
“How would you define an Innocent Soul? An Innocent Soul would close its senses to everything. It wouldn’t realise the mistakes they make, the melancholic emotions around them or the dark unknown secrets others keep. Sometimes, it would sprinkle salt to the wound and it would get away with it, only because it’s “innocent”. Everyone knows we wouldn’t hurt them – no, we couldn’t hurt them. Lay a finger on them and you’ll have broken limbs; mock them endlessly and you’ll never speak; look at them with sly eyes and you’ll never see day light. No one knows where they come from or who their ancestors were, but the only thing we know was that not every Innocent Soul was related. Because of this, Innocent Souls were treated as holy beings – people believed they came from another world, sent to us for various reasons.
“However, there was one disadvantage of being an Innocent Soul – every Innocent Soul was born with the high sensitivity to sunlight and they needed to stay protected from the outdoors. Thus, their skin was as white as porcelain and they have a few health problems, such as high risks of rickets. That’s why they drink different kinds of pills and take all kinds of therapy to make sure they get the nutrients needed to live healthily. Besides this, Innocent Souls have distinctive eye colour – pure white, with a faint grey ring indicating the iris, but there’s no pupil visible. According to one of the Innocent Souls, they could see the world differently, but he didn’t give any specific information.
“Besides the uncomfortable defect, Innocent Souls have unique and rare talents. From perfect pitch to calculating bizarre calculations, they have the things human beings had always wanted to have. But the interesting factor was that all of them have the ability called Blueprint; with this, Innocent Souls could analyse their surroundings and calculate the actions they’re about to take with precision – this process took place within one to five seconds; those who were trained could achieve to lower than one second. This ability was very useful in battlefields, spying, athletics and many other things. Scientists tried to experiment with the Innocent Souls’ DNA and wanted to obtain the Innocent Souls’ inhuman abilities, but alas, every experiment would end up in the gutter, along with a heap of disfigured bodies of the unfortunate experiment subjects.
“Not all people think the Innocent Souls were lovely angels from another dimension – some people thought that they were actually dangerous mutants or aliens trying to take over the Earth. With this reason, the Filter Organisation – known commonly as Filters – was formed.
“The Filters, as their name suggests, filter out the residue from the pure water; this means that they get rid of the inhuman things from the humans. Slowly, the Innocent Souls population decrease dramatically. Some were killed on the spot, while others were killed slowly and painfully. As mentioned before, those who harm the Innocent Souls would have a ten-fold punishment laid on them, so those who killed the Innocent Souls would also die but in a more grotesque fashion. As time flies, only a few managed to survive by hiding in the shadows or somewhere far away from city live. Where are their whereabouts now? That is our objective, to find the last Innocent Souls and…”
What came next shocked the man and the woman, their gasps heard clearly in the silent room.
* * *
Do, re, mi, fa, sol, la, ti, do…
The boy sang the notes over and over again. The professor took his MP3 player away so he could update the music file. He didn’t mind if the songs were not up to date, though; as long as it sounds good, he’ll listen to anything. Unlike the others, Vega could see music. Every note has a colour, and each colour symbolises different emotions. Happy was yellow or any other bright colours, sad was blue and muddy-colours were anger. He had always been interested in music ever since he was a kid and without it, it would be like seeing the world in black and white.
Do, re, mi, fa, sol, la, ti, do…
Vega’s most favourite things – besides music – were food, the night sky, beautiful objects, novels and movies. His most detestable things were noises, ugly objects or people, tomatoes and of course, the outside world. Whenever he goes outside, which was only once or twice in his life, strangers with guns, pitchforks or knifes would lunge themselves towards him, trying to kill him. Besides, cars and other transportations give him headaches due to the excessive amount of noise they make. Especially babies in buses and teenage girls; they’re the worst.
Do, re, mi, fa, so, la, ti, do…
As he sang these notes, Vega could see them dancing delicately in the air and in different colours. Because there was no other unnecessary noise in the room, he could see the notes very clearly as opposed when he’s in any other room. He played around with his dark hair, twirling them around his index finger. His pale skin almost blends in with the white wallpaper, but his skin still got a hint of peach in it as opposed to the blue-tinted wallpaper.
Do, re, mi, fa, sol, la –
He was interrupted by a series of knocking on the plain white door. “Come in,” Vega answered.
The Professor walked in with Vega’s MP3 player in his hand, along with a bundle of white earphones. “I finished updating it,” the Professor said proudly, “I’ve put some songs by Andromeda; I heard that they’re your favourite band.”
“Gee, thanks,” Vega said as he took the MP3 and earphones from the Professor.
“What would you like for dinner?”
“Dunno. You decide.”
“Well, we had my favourite beef stew yesterday so it’s your turn now.” Vega shrugged.
“I’m fine with anything.”
“Then fried fish, it is,” the Professor sighed light-heartedly. To him, Vega was like his own son. He remembered the first time he met the young man, a few years ago; Vega was on the verge of death, lying helplessly on his doorstep. He knew that Vega was a hated existence, since he was an Innocent Soul, but he took him in, anyway. Within a week, Vega was healthy once more. A few days later, he discovered Vega’s talents and interests and he gave him the MP3 player as a present. He didn’t know that the frail and innocent young boy would grow up to be… an apathetic, carefree young man who does nothing but eat and sleep. He does get tutored by the Professor every afternoon but he would end up spacing out or not taking the lessons seriously.
The Professor remembered that he once asked Vega where his family was or where he came from, but he would always answers the same thing: “Dunno. Don’t remember having one.” Judging from the wounds from back then, he must’ve hit his head really hard.
Dinner was as usual; with only the two of them, it was quiet lonely but their conversations flowed smoothly, so they ended up talking about various subjects throughout the meal. The T.V. sat quietly across the dining table, showing the news about various events that happened during the twenty-four hours. At first, the stories weren’t really interesting but one story hooked their ears immediately.
“An Innocent Soul was killed in Euphemia District this morning,” the broadcaster said, “The cause of death was a direct hit in the eye by an anonymous sniper. According to eyewitnesses, the direction of the bullet was from the Yvette Editorial Building rooftop. Police raided the place soon after, but no suspicious activities were seen about the building…”
The Professor was unsure whether Vega was comfortable watching the news. After all, he’s one of them; they’re like his family, but not related by blood. “I think we should change the channel,” the Professor suddenly said, reaching out for the remote control.
“Why? I thought you like watching the news.”
“Well, don’t you feel bad?” Vega shrugged.
“Not at all, actually. Even though she’s an Innocent Soul, she’s none of my concern. Not all Innocent Souls are related and we don’t communicate with each other that much – we do pretty much everything alone.”
“You don’t act like one, though.”
“That’s because I’ve caught ‘human germs’ from the wacko professor!” Vega smirked.
After a short talk about T.V. shows, Vega washed the dishes and retired to his room, while the Professor stayed in the living and watch the late-night talk show. In his small room, Vega lay back on his bed and starred on the ceiling, listening to songs by Andromeda. The walls were painted Alice-blue and the floor was cherry wood flooring, with an azure carpet laid out in the middle of the room and the white door opposite the bed. The room was very plain and empty – the only thing in it was a bed, a bookshelf, a desk lamp on a desk and a chair; the room had no windows, since Vega was very sensitive to sunlight. Despite the dull environment, Vega found the room very calming and comfortable, a suitable habitat for him.
The next day arrived very quickly. Vega was in his room listening to the radio via the MP3 player, trying to find any good news about music or entertainment. A sudden mention of his favourite band made him turn up the volume to the max. “… and this will be Andromeda’s comeback after a two-year break,” the radio host said in an enthusiastic tone, “And luckily, we have our beloved vocalist of Andromeda, Cymbeline Abram.”
Upon hearing his name, Vega made silent cheers of admiration.
“Just call me Cy – Cymbeline’s too long,” Cymbeline Abram laughed. The radio host laughed too.
“Right, so it’s Cy. So about the band’s comeback, how do you feel about it?”
“Well, it’s very exciting and I just can’t wait to go back on the stage and perform again.”
“What about the outcome? Do you think your comeback is going to be a success?”
“I think so, yeah. In fact, I think it’s going to be our biggest success in our history. We’ve finished writing the album and now we’re rehearsing night and day.”
“Interesting… So what’s going to be your promotional song?”
“It’s called ‘Sorry for the Breakup’. But I think the title’s so tacky,” both men laughed at the comment. Vega also found himself smiling; seriously, what’s with the name? The radio host sighed after the laughter.
“But judging from it, the song must’ve meant a lot. What’s the meaning behind the song, and what inspired you to write it?”
“Well,” Cy began, “before I was working on our album, I remembered something from the past. I used to have a girlfriend, you see.”
The host whistled. “Oh, we’ve got a lover boy, here!”
Both men laughed once again. “Yeah, we broke-up but I still think about her,” Cy continued, “and the cause of our break-up was me. I’ve thought about it for a long time but I really regretted my actions; I just wish I could start again and do everything I could to make her happy.”
“What a touching story. Do you think she’s listening to this broadcast?”
“I wish, but if she does,” Cy’s voice switched to a more serious tone, “I just want to say that I’m really sorry, and I still love you.”
“That’s so sweet – I hope you could do well on your next romance. Well, that’s Cymbeline Abram for you. Next up, we have a song request by…”
Cy’s story made Vega feel desperate for a girlfriend now. Having one must have gave him infinite bliss. Oh, how it would be amazing to see him and his soul-mate together, looking all rosy-coloured from head-to-toe – it would be legend!
It’s been on his mind for a while; he thought about repaying the Professor for everything he had done for him. He wanted to give him a present but he didn’t know what the Professor liked, nor could he do anything but wash the dishes – his dishwashing skills was still at a “beginner level” despite his long practice. Overall, he couldn’t do anything but sit back and let the Professor do everything, and he didn’t like it; it made him feel small, useless and as unnoticeable as an ant on the floor. Maybe I’ll try writing a song for him, he thought. Yeah, that’ll be awesome!
So that evening, Vega took out a second-hand keyboard from the basement and set it up, ready for use. He then thought about the song he was going to write, so he drew a carefully drawn picture of him and the Professor in a field of green grass, away from the city and angry mobs but close to a little house – the Professor’s house – on top of a hill, surrounded with velvety lilacs. By just looking at the picture, beautifully arranged notes popped up in his head and he started writing the song down right away.
The only difficulty in his song writing was coming up with the lyrics. The rhythm of the song would come up naturally as soon as he sees the subject of the song but the lyrics… it’s harder than finding a needle in a haystack, or finding your sock in your bedroom in the morning. Since he already had the theme of the song, he just needed to find the right words to fit in. Which word suits this part? Which words make this part more effective? Or does this part make any sense? Vega tried to write songs in the past too but there were some mistakes, like how the words didn’t fit the rhythm or the sentences not linking together at all. But he soon remembered what the Professor told him: “As long as you pour everything to your work, it will be the best of the best”.
And so Vega concentrated extremely hard on his “task”. From time to time, he would hum the song and see if it matches well or not. If it does, he would jot it down right away. “This sounds more like a lullaby,” commented Vega, “Well; I guess it would also sound good with drums and guitars.” Just then, the Professor knocked on the door and entered – Vega hid the music sheets behind his back.
“It’s late now; you should be sleeping,” the Professor said.
As soon as the Professor’s footsteps fade into silence, Vega took out the sheets and read through them. “Pretty good, actually,” Vega said to himself, “I think this is alright. Now, I should just wrap it up nicely and get ready to give it to him tomorrow.” That’s what he thought, but the next day, the Professor was called up to fill in a lecture – the professor in charge was struck with a sudden cold – and so Vega was home alone the whole day. He couldn’t go outside nor could he play with some things around the house, and so he was left alone like a worn-out ragdoll.
Vega tried watching the T.V. to entertain himself; he tried every channel there was but none of them was amusing. He walked slowly up the stairs and entered his bedroom, reading the music sheets over and over and over again, until he memorised the whole song, including the arrangements. “If there’s no sun,” he sang quietly, “Let me be the light, the warmth, and the one to brighten up the day… Man, it really is boring,” he admitted.
Vega decided to go downstairs again. The azure curtains caught his eyes. The usual sunlight that peeps through the gaps was not present, and so were the singing birds that won’t stop until sundown – these birds don’t really have a name but Vega called them nocte sibilus, since they also sing when the sun was sleeping, especially midnight. I wonder what’s happening outside, Vega thought. He walked up swiftly to the curtains. When he arrived, he hesitated on opening the floral-patterned curtains, remembering the Professor’s warning about the outside. “You’re not allowed to bath yourself in the sunlight,” Vega recalled, “It’s bad for your health.” Why is that? The Professor goes out and in whenever he wishes, so why couldn’t he?
Ignoring his conscience, he pulled the curtains open. Above the dizzy trees, he could see a forlorn sky swarming with thick blobs of levitating white mass. It was the first time in a long time that he had seen the city; the dull panorama was no match to the dazzling lights he saw back then. Vega could see no light whatsoever and proceeded to open the windows in curiosity. A blast of wind blasted his face, taking his precious present with it.
“No!” Vega cried after the fleeing papers – it was a good thing that he stapled them together otherwise it would be a complete loss. Fortunately, the papers landed gently among the bushes at the edge of the never-ending front yard of the Professor’s house. There were two options for Vega: one, he could wait for the Professor to come home and tell him to pick up the papers for him, and two, he could just take the papers himself. Since it’s meant to be a surprise, option two, it is!
The sun was nowhere to be seen – Vega took this as an “alright” signal but first he made sure there was no one around. After a countless of times looking left and right, he dashed towards the bushes to retrieve his papers. He could see the white thin sheets of wood clearly, meaning he wouldn’t need to frantically search for them. He examined the papers carefully, checking for any creases or torn parts. Much to his dismay, there were indeed some creases, but at least they were not torn. Oh, what was he thinking! If it’s going to be a present then it’s going to have to be in the best condition, so in the end he resolved in writing the things on the “ruined” papers down on brand-new ones.
He folded the sheets roughly and shoved it inside his hoodie-pocket. He was about to turn his heel and head back to his house… when he felt a strange feeling that he’s being observed.
Oh great, he thought. Just when I thought it’s pretty safe to go out. What am I going to do now? Run away quickly? No, it might chase after me. And if I call out for help, it might make the problem worse. Oh, go! What should I do?
This was the first time Vega regretted his choices. He wished he hadn’t opened the window; he wished he hadn’t gone out; he wished he hadn’t ignored his conscience. He must think of a way to escape quickly or else there would definitely be no tomorrow. Alright, what should he do first? Let’s start at reviewing the current situation and the surroundings:
The man had a healthy build so it would take him at least two minutes to reach the entrance but looking at Vega’s position, it would take Vega at least four minutes. The bad thing was that the man knew where Vega was; the good thing was there was a secret passage Vega could try out. There’s a narrow alley between the house and the fence. Certainly, the man wouldn’t be able to go through such a passage, but Vega could. It was a good thing the passage was not visible to the man; if it was, the man would do something to prevent his from escaping. It would take Vega two minutes to reach the passage and three to four minutes for the man.
It was time for Vega to execute his plan. Praying for success under his breath, he ran like mad to the passage. At the corner of his eyes, he could see the man approaching him in a speed of a cheetah. Just as he planned, Vega reached the passage and was walking sideways, his heart nearly bursting out of his tight chest, trying to get around and enter through the backdoor. It was great! He reached the destination! He hurried off to turn the doorknob and come in –
A series of noise and a dropping of a heavy blunt object made him turn in surprise. In front of him, he found a large man, with a baseball bat in his hand and an arrow protruding from his temple, collapsed on the bed of grass. The man lay on the spot, unmoving and no baby-blue notes of breathing. He was dead. He certainly was. He heard the furious crimson-red panting on his far right, and much to his relief – or not – found the Professor with a hidden convenient-sized crossbow under his oversized lab coat sleeve. As he expected, the Professor didn’t look anywhere near pleased that he was at least safe.
The Professor’s eyes were clouded with anger as opposed to his usual calm clear blue. This was the first time he’d seen the Professor like an enraged bull; but truthfully, he’d seen him like that when he once received a phone call from the lab about an escaped subject. Vega hauled himself to his feet, preparing to explain the situation. “Umm, I can explain this. You see, I was –”
“Inside, now,” the Professor said in a low voice Vega never heard before. This was it – he’s going to get it. What will the Professor do? Make him into his guinea pig? Vega couldn’t think of anything worse than that. The Professor opened the backdoor silently, stepping to one side to let Vega enter first. Vega walked heavily to the living room where he seated himself at the armchair at the corner next to the window overlooking the front yard, where a sack and a length of rope could be seen. The mysterious man had vanished, of course, probably dead too. At that time, Vega wished he was the shadowy man rather than himself – it certainly would be better if he was dead than alive, since he won’t have to look at the extremely displeased face of the awakened bear. Vega heard a loud slam at the back of the house and saw the Professor approach him with bloodshot steps of fury.
Vega looked out the window, trying to avoid the Professor’s death glare. “Are you daft?” the Professor said in a flaming tone, taking off his crossbow, “What did I say about going outside? You were almost killed!”
“But I wasn’t; I’m still talking,” Vega said, eyes still outside.
“That was because I arrived just in time,” The Professor placed the crossbow on the coffee table and threw his coat on top of it. He then sat at the couch opposite Vega, visibly distressed, “Besides, you already know about your condition. Even thought the sun’s not visible, it’s still there and the clouds could clear out any moment it wanted.”
“Sorry, okay? I was reckless and disobeyed your –”
“Sorry doesn’t cut it!” The Professor snapped, “You know how worried I was? What would happen if you’re dead?” That sentence lit up a bulb in Vega’s head. What would happen if he was dead? He averted his gaze to the Professor, who was looking at him with deadly eyes. He suddenly realised some unanswered questions bottled up inside him.
Vega locked his eyes on the Professor. “What would happen, I wonder…” he mumbled.
“…What?” Vega straightened himself up.
“What would happen if I were dead?” he raised his voice at this question, “What would you do if I were dead? Tell me; what would you exactly do?” The Professor was taken aback at Vega’s bold statement. “Now that I’ve thought about it,” Vega continued, “why am I here? That night, why did you take me in? You knew I was an Innocent Soul – at the verge of death, to add – and was hated by those… ‘Fish net’ or whatever!”
“It’s the Filter –”
“That’s not the point!” Vega growled, “Why did you take me in despite the bad things? I mean, people usually call the police if they found a bloody kid on your doorstep – in fact, I don’t even know why I was there! Not to mention that you’re a professor. Normally, you’ll want me as a test subject for your stupid experiments. Instead, you fed me ‘till I’m plump; you made me look like a groomed pet, all clean and healthy. And then –” Vega stopped. That was his answer. He looked at the Professor, dumbfounded. It all made sense now – the Professor was just waiting until Vega was in the right conditions to be a perfect guinea pig.
Vega stormed off to his room, ignoring the frequent demands of the angry Professor. “Vega! You come here this instant; we’re not done talking yet!”
“We don’t need to continue – I know what you’re doing! I’m not Hansel; I don’t like sweets, thankfully!” Of course, the Professor was heavily confused with Vega’s comments, as always…
…And Vega actually lied – he liked sweets the most in the world. Whenever he lies, he would feel an upcoming headache pounding at the far back of his head. Clutching his head, he cried out in frustration. How could he not notice? The Professor had been a very discreet man to begin with. He won’t share his secrets or open up his childhood photo books; he’ll use any lies to get away with the truth, and he’ll fool you with kind, encouraging words. So that meant that everything up until now were lies? Vega felt like a big fool.
He threw himself on his bed and looked up at the ceiling sprinkled with gold and silver stars. The day the Professor set up the fluorescent stickers was the day when Vega took an interest in astronomy after he watched a documentary about space. Vega had been memorising the names of different constellations, their characteristics, their locations and the stars that made them up. His favourite was the Lyra constellation because it was associated with music – and its name gave a magical ring to his ears – with Vega as its brightest star… and that was also how he got his name.
“You like music?” The Professor once asked.
“Yeah. I used to listen to the bands performing underground,” Vega explained.
“And you like Lyra because it has something to do with music?”
“And because it has a nice name. It’s the colour of calendulas.”
“Do you know Lyra’s brightest star?” Vega shrugged. “It’s Vega. What do you think of the name?”
Vega thought for a second, and then nodded enthusiastically. “It sounds so electric blue – I like it!”
“Then you can have that name; from now on, you’re Vega…”
“That’s right. From that day and on, Vega’s my name,” Vega reminded himself.
“Why? Don’t you already have a name?” a voice whispered.
“I do? My name isn’t Vega? What is my name, then?”
“Your name is –“
Vega’s eyes opened automatically. That dream felt somehow… nostalgic and familiar. The voice in his head sounded like someone he knew, but who?
He sat himself up and looked at the clock – it was already nine o’clock at night. Vega yawned like a lion and rubbed his sleepy eyes with the heel of his hands. The room was lit up by the desk lamp – Vega left it on accidentally since last night. He was about to reached out for the door handle until he remembered what happened earlier today. He gave himself a big face-palm as he let himself fall back onto his bed. What was he thinking, pulling of such a drama?! It made him look like a bigger fool than Pierrot.
Again and again, Vega blamed himself over the incident and the argument, rolling from side to side while ruffling his hair in embarrassment. He finally stopped after he had done complaining mentally. While fiddling with his earphones, he thought about the Professor, how he’s doing and how he felt. It made him hundred-times guiltier than before.
Watching the arms of the clock move slowly, he recalled the past memories from seven years ago, from the first time he collapsed in front of the Professor’s door. He still wondered how he ended up there. Maybe it was because of the warm light from the living room or the smell of the freshly cooked chicken, he just couldn’t tell. For some reasons, he was drawn to the house to the point of trespassing through the front lawn.
Despite Vega’s sudden appearance, the Professor took care of him without questions. He would look at him with warm eyes and say apricot-coloured fatherly words. He couldn’t remember anyone else who does that.
“Maybe I should apologise,” Vega murmured whilst sitting up. Day by day, the Professor’s becoming a part of his family…
“Family”? That’s weird. He’d never used that word to describe anything before. But the word had a warm and calming effect on him, just like how the Professor would calm him down whenever Vega has a fit or a nightmare. It suits him a lot, he thought.
But if he were to apologise now, wouldn’t it be awkward? Besides, Vega realised that he didn’t know how to apologise. Whenever he upsets the Professor, he would always get away without a scratch, physically and mentally. Vega started to think that he’s turning into one of those “spoiled kids” he saw on T.V…. That’s bad, isn’t it? In the end, Vega spent most of the time pacing up and down quietly while stroking his imaginary beard, obviously drowned in thoughts of apologising.
After quite a while, he resolved on getting everything sorted out right away. He walked straight up to the door and took a lungful of cool air before barging out of the room and into the dimly lit corridor, where chaos greeted his eyes….