The ordinary story of Michael. . .whats-his-name.

By Chris Picreame All Rights Reserved ©

Drama / Romance

Things could be worse.

"Eww. What died?" the angel demands.

No, No, No, No, NO, this is so not happening. Its all a horrible, horrible nightmare. This cannot be happening to me.

I pretend not to hear her or notice her as my face competes with Ferrari for the "who can find the brightest red" award.

"Buy some deodorant." she orders as she steps past me the tundras of her eyes rolling to the roof as she steps past me.

Think of a positives Michael somehow this could be worse. Yeah at least she still doesn't know my name right?

"Michael Jones is a sweat stinker." calls Amberley Fletcher Elizabeth-Roses' beta.

No this could not be worse, not even the 9th circle of hell could be worse. Tartarus is the Bahamas compared to this, Hades' house an oasis of friendliness.

"Man you're so lucky." Justin White from my science class says as he walks by.

"Yeah?" I ask in disbelief that one he's talking to me and two this is somehow a lucky turn of events and not the horrible train wreck of humiliation that it feels like.

"At least she noticed you." Justin continues.

"True." I say to myself as much as him laughing. Hey he's right I've been noticed. And not just by her but Amberley Fletcher and him too. Yeah things could be worse. I've managed to get two people to notice me.

I stand at the Coles' checkouts a fake smile on the face that no one looks at for long enough to remember anyway.

"Hello, how was your day?" I ask robotically already working as hard as I can to get rid of this next person who doesn't care about who's serving them so long as I do a good job.

Working as a cashier (a male cashier nonetheless), things could be worse though. At least I have a job, a well paying job.

"Next please." my automated voice says and the next single working mum herds her two young boys towards me the dark circles visible underneath her eyes.

Faces, names, genders, outfits, all get lost in the monotonous blur of my work life. People file in and out of the shop like ants none of them making a significant mark on me as the hours tick away. There's always two people to replace the one that just left, and four to replace the replacer. My life is an endless stream of people who are no one to me because I am no one to them. What do I care if I never see them again? What do they care if they never see me again? An endless stream of faces so close and yet miles away. An endless stream of names I'll forget in an instant, an endless line of people who I'll never understand. My life is a play where every one else knows what's going on except for me, I'm the one actor who everyone curses because he forgot his line, the one person who doesn't understand their place. I am another Shakespearean tragedy, a forbidden love which will end in tears and boquets of death but for the duration of the love it will be unbelievably spectacular.

That's all I really want. Fame would be ideal, mediocracy agreeable and to be known an arrangement. But to be honest I only need to be noticed by one person, Juliet.

My watch beeps annoyingly and I realise my shift is finally over with. I don't have to be near people anymore, I am saved.

The rain is cascading off the streets splashing up my joggers and turning my socks soggy and my feet freezing. Thunder resonates across the path and people duck for whatever cover they can find while I walk into the firing field of rain and hail headless of my own health or safety. A perfectly melancholy setting for a perfectly melancholy person. It could still be worse though couldn't it? Yeah I could be walking barefoot in a cyclone. . . naked.

The days events in my head I entre the silent house thankful that I had cleaned the empty cans from the floor recently so that I didn't leave the clanging of aluminium in my wake. I escape up the stairways without being noticed. I flick my bedroom light on an slump onto my bed throwing the plastic bag beside me.

"At least I was noticed today." I say to myself, "At least you noticed me." I continue looking towards the window. For the wrong reasons sure but at least you noticed me.

Bright, unblocked sunlight wakes me and I blink furiously in protest. Another day, a better day. A day where at least 3 people know me, know who I am.

I decide to go with the bus today although I would much prefer not to have to deal with people but I don't want to have another embarrassing repeat of yesterday. I sit down by myself before (long and behold) Justin sits down next to me.

"Hey Mike how's it going" he practically shouts beside me.


"We're friends now." he offers.

"We are?" I ask confused.

"We are." he repeats.

I can't believe it. People have started to notice me and I have an actual friend for the first time since primary school. Life's finally looking up for me. It can't get much better than this.

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