This is kind of what happens when I’m bored. Hehe. Comment what you think would happen and what you feel about it.




There would only be a few references to Kismet that Jill would only care to believe about because of their uncanny content which made her smile exactly when she needed them. But they were simply that, really, stories. The closest to it that she would remember encountering would be getting into that dream school that she has always wanted to go to since she was a child, nabbing that last slot for that college.

That’s even hardly kismet, but truth be told, it was the only fairy tale she believed on. Jill’s mother died when she was little, and therefore was bereft of bedtime stories. Both her and her father were never believers of destiny, nor fairytales, nor toads turning into princes. And as far as Jill’s concerned, she’s perfectly fine with that.

Which is why she never recognized Kismet when she sat beside one.

–

He was 20 years old. He never did quite like this body, and he felt that he could have been more, but with everything he has bargained for, he can’t really quite choose. Obviously, there has to be a point to be driven.

He wondered how his brother was. The son of a bitch. He was hanging around the in crowd lately, almost always inebriated whenever he comes home. Of course he wouldn’t know about this, but he gets messages from their messenger. The kids of the myths are always updated no matter how unattached they seem.

His reverie was cut short by a loud streak of coughing. Beside him was a rather aged man, about 80, he gathered. He seemed very frail, and he started to wonder what was speeding the old man’s wait for the grave—is it tuberculosis? Or maybe it’s just a bad cough?

He stretched in his seat, taking time to yawn. He straightened in his seat again and looked around, alert. He was waiting for the next inspiration. He liked hospitals. Never quite like stepping unto a desperate place and finding a glimmer of hope. He liked hospitals more than cemeteries, really. It’s not as hopeless when there’s life involved. He looked at the woman in red. Is it her? Maybe not. How about that blond lady? Nah, badly dyed hair. Not quite his type. There’s a lot of staff in white, nurses running about, doctors looking important. Maybe it’s one of them?

He got bored. He looked up and saw a small distinct coffee shop upstairs. He needed a break. He started for the escalators, stifling a yawn.

He saw her.

She was on her way down. Her feet lagging behind her with her head tipped over, like looking at an extra invisible set of feet. Her arms were outstretched, grasping the rubber handles hard. A Polaroid camera is dangling on her chest. Striking combination of yellow shirt and purple sneakers on a pair of white shorts. An eye sore. A very interesting eye sore.

His head dramatically followed her as her escalator slowly went down whilst his went up. When he got out, he quickly jumped on the downwards escalator, curiously looking for the colorful youth. She, interestingly, was found by his eyes on the same manner he looked at her earlier, albeit this time, he’s going down, and she apparently boarded the upward escalator.

He looked at her intently. He went off the machine and waited below, knowing instinctively that she’s bound to go down again. And there she was, her head once again tipped over, almost like willing herself to fall.

Her tilted head bumped on his chest.

“A-aaw.” She exclaimed rather loudly, automatically touching her forehead. She looked at him sharply. “Your mum ever tell you not to stand in front of the escalator, boy?”

“As a matter of fact, no, she didn’t.” He looked at her rather curiously. “She did mention however not to play around with the escalators.”

“Good for you.”

“What, yours didn’t tell you that?”

“I don’t have a mum.” She replied crossly.

“You don’t?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Why would I tell you?”

She went around him and hopped on to the other escalator. He stayed on the floor looking at her moving up. There’s something interesting in the girl, he thought, something that he wanted to annoy. He chuckled at the thought. Maybe she’s his hope trigger for the day. He waited, and as expected, she continued her playground escapade by going down the escalator again.

“Who are you visiting?” He called out. She didn’t look up from the usual head-tip stance. She’s now tapping her right foot rhythmically.

“I have a Polaroid too, you know. A Supercolor 645.”

There was an obvious pause, a split second that he needed. He gave a little push.

“See there’s even this trick that you kind of iron it on this patterned paper, and it’s a really great look. Have you tried it?”

She reached the floor, and she paused there, but not looking at him. She’s almost pouting.

“I don’t talk to strangers.”

“Jesus, what are you, 6?”

She laughed. That did it in.

“You’re an asshole, you know that?”

He smiled. “And so often I was told.” He held out his hand. “I’m Kis.”

She laughed. “Kiss? Like, a smack? Lips, like that?”

“Just one s.”

“Who the hell would name a guy Kis?”

“Why, what’s your name?”

“Jill.”

“Well, who would name their child with something VERY creative like that?”

“Well at least it doesn’t sound gay.”

“I’m sure there’s a lesbian in you somewhere.”

“No shit.”

“Yeah. Want coffee?”

She looked around. “Where?”

He pointed upstairs. “There. See that? It says Coffee Shop. 100 bucks, I bet you it has coffee.”

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t like coffee. I’m in high school, I don’t need that.”

“Oh, you will, someday. And for the rest of your life, too. But I’m sure they have fruit juices, and cheesecakes.”

“Okay.”

And they both boarded the escalator in one direction.

–

A music player in one hand, and his neck on the other. He kept feeling up his nape, annoyed. He specifically told the barber not to shave the nape.

He’s still about 30 minutes away from the destination. He couldn’t bring his car today at a friend’s promise that they’d carpool on the way home, but he’s so used to driving he couldn’t keep still.

He balanced his stack of books on his lap. The consultancy work he’s been keeping had him up all night researching, and like your usual text books, they’re forever boring even if you need them.

The bus slowed to a stop and boarded random passengers. A girl sat beside him, prompting him to fix himself up to free some space.

She couldn’t be any more than 20. Give or take. A slender college girl, with obvious taste for loose shirts and tattered jeans—compared to his starched attire he suddenly felt stiff. Her pixie hair is all over her face, and she was wearing only sneakers but she managed to pull off an Old Navy poster girl look. She allowed only 30 second to breathe, then pulled out from her sling bag a Kurt Vonnegut book.

Kis felt conscious. He wasn’t particularly moved by strangers before, and this peculiar girl simply sat beside him but he felt so unexplainably unnerved.

So unnerved, that, he ran a couple of things, and thoughts and lines to say to her, and none of them were said before she went off the bus.

–

He flicked another finished cigarette butt to the grass. He wasn’t doing much smoking as much as it was just passing time. He was starting to get really annoyed, and no matter how much he knew that Will’s always intentionally late, Kis was always still remarkably prompt. That gave him about two hours of waiting time.

“It’s not that late,” Came a voice from behind him. Standing on the opposite side of his car is Will, his bastard brother. He motioned for a smoke and Kis threw his pack at his face. Will deftly blocked it, laughing.

“Been so many years and you’re still so tense. What is up, Kis?”

“It’s not really so much, just a few years.”

“Yes, it has been, hasn’t it? About…you were definitely younger then. How are earth years treating you? Rather slow, I take it?”

“They’re not really slow, actually. But the progression of humans can be rather tedious.”

“Spoken like a true bourgeoisie. Have you not built your empire yet?”

“No, but bosses can be a bitch. But hey, I’ll soon overtake them.”

Will took a long drag from his cigarette. “Try not to focus on this so much, Kis. Remember, you’re on a mission.”

“What mission? This is a dare, Will. This is child’s play. Something borne out of your idle mind. What mission are you fucking talking about?”

Will sighed dramatically. Kis rolled his eyes.

“You are not going to fool me with your faux maturity, Will. Never was your character.”

“See, this is what bothers me, Kismet. I send you to war, and you go around prancing with your little rifle. You don’t learn nothing. Not even from scars, not even from the deaths. You’re just like your brother.”

Kis chuckled. “Yes, let’s talk about him like he’s not your brother, too.”

“Hell, yeah, he’s not. I’m never gonna match up to the pompous asshole that he is. And you, are the half-brother, of course.”

“Half-brother.”

“Yes, half-brother. Half the arrogance, half the ass.”

Kis laughed. “I still don’t know how you made me put up with this, really. I don’t even know what I’m supposed to prove getting here. You should have really gotten Des to sign up.”

“In the first place, he won’t get nowhere with that goddamn name,” Will countered. “At least you’re credible. Try telling to everyone your name’s Destiny, let’s see how girls won’t giggle, much less expect your boss to take you seriously.”

“I’m sure he’d get a different name. I just stuck with it to quit half of the charade.”

“That’s not the point. The point is,” Will drew up his fingers upward like pointing at a huge argument on top of him. “He’s not going to learn. And I love you, Kis. I want you to understand something and not be like Destiny.”

“What is it with Destiny that’s bothering you, really?” Kis opened the back of his car and reached for a small cooler. He grabbed two beer cans and threw one at Will. “I never knew you had such deep-seated anger towards anyone more arrogant than you.”

“See, it’s that same cockiness that I don’t like, Kis.” Will pulled the tab and took a long swag. He let out a long belch. “Shite, this is probably the best thing invented by mankind. Never can have enough of this.”

Kis shrugged. Will continued.

“You’re just both complacent that you’re the best thing ever made in this goddamn universe. Destiny has his, ‘oh yeah, something big is coming your way.’ And you’re, ‘Yeah, sure, I make things happen.’ Sure, you’re the cheekier side because you’re all magic and romance and shit, and Destiny is more fortune and luck, but I don’t like the way you go around like anything you touch would happen. It’s not that much of magic, Kis. You’re forgetting something.”

“And what is that?”

“Me.”

Kis laughed. “So this whole elaborate scheme is all about you. This is such an ostentatious display of ego, you bastard! Look, if you want me to love you, or give you attention, jesus, just say it. You don’t go around daring brothers to become human to worship you.”

“No, bitch. I want you to understand that I exist for a reason. And truthfully, we all know how over-used I really am as an excuse.”

“What do you mean?”

“Pssh. As if you don’t know Adam and Eve and the whole free-will thing.”

“Ah. That. So…how do you factor in, again?”

“That Kismet can’t be Kismet without Free Will. That Destiny can’t be Destiny without Free Will. It’s not one or the other. It’s a mixture of things.”

“And you need me to be human to know that.”

“I need you to be human AND powerless to UNDERSTAND that.”

“This is such a huge waste of time.”

Will finished the remaining beer on his can. “Maybe,” he mused. “But that depends on whether you learn or you don’t.”