that green light, i want it
â spring awakening. multi-chapter. melchior's childhood best friend, moritz, had moved away in freshman year, leaving an empty hole in melchior's life. after years of never having seen each other, moritz moves back, but he's completely different and no longer the sweet boy melchior once knew, aka skater boy mo meets anxious mess melchi.
CHAPTER ONE ... a rush at the beginning (megaphone to my chest)
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melchior was trying everything in his power to keep himself awake. apparently, running off of two hours of sleep (if that) and four coffees was not enough to get a seventeen year old boy through his hour long math class, who would have guessed?
his life from the age of fifteen had been complete static. school got boring, the workload began wearing him out, and he lost his childhood best friend.
moritz stiefel. his name was still imprinted into melchiorâs mind after all these years of being separated. he moved away during freshman year, and melchior tried to keep contact, but he never responded to any of his messages. a friendship from the womb completely wasted. melchior had never truly experienced loss until he left.
but everything was fine. he still had his other friends: wendla, ilse, hanschen (debatable), ernst... basically everyone from their middle school friend group. even though everyone else remained, their group was missing their leading heartbeat, moritz. melchior felt he was the only one who thought of their new friend group as dysfunctional.
âmelchi. melchior! hello?â a voice kept repeating. he fluttered his eyes open to see a pale hand quickly waving by his face, making him flinch backward, out of his slumped posture over his desk. he let out a groan as someone else said, âlook whoâs finally awake.â
he rubbed his eyes and looked up, vision still blurry, but able to make out the image of wendla and martha standing above him. he wanted to speak, defend himself, but all he could slur out was, âhuh?â
âyou fell asleep again, melchior. school's been over for about ten minutes, weâve been trying to wake you up. have you been getting enough sleep?â wendla said sternly, her grip shaking his shoulder.
âoh, yeah, yeah,â he muttered after a few seconds, his brain still processing what sheâd said. why was his brain not as sharp as it once was at fourteen? it was honestly humiliating to see everyone look down on him by comparing him to his younger, brighter self.
under their gaze, he got to his feet and messily shoved all of his books into his backpack and attempted to zip it up, but unable to as it was so packed. melchior refused to use his locker since freshman year and wouldnât break that now, even though he desperately needs to see a chiropractor.
wendla shot a look out of the side of her eye at martha, who nodded and turned to leave. was that girl code or something?
âmelchior, are you okay? you've been acting so weird recently,â wendla softly asked, the sternness diffusing out of her body. he simply stared at her, not necessarily struggling to understand what she just said, but struggling to emotionally comprehend that question. others seeing his pain was something he wished for at first, when he used to pray to god to take his life, the raging atheist praying to be put out of his misery, but now? all he wanted to do was hide away. he was sick of other people asking him this question over and over, but he could tolerate it, but not when wendla asked him. he felt like he could break down in this very moment.
âmelchi?â the sweet, familiar yet distant nickname rolled off her tongue like honey.
âiâm fine. i really need to go,â he stuttered. âi have a project due tomorrow or something like that, i donât really fuckinâ know.â
before wendla could react, he was already slinging his backpack over his shoulder and swinging the door of the classroom open, leaving her alone in the dark room.
his feet carried him out of the main school building, unsure as to exactly where he was going. he trusted his body to take him somewhere calm. somewhere he can take a second to relax.
melchior looked at the trees as he passed by. they were all shades of orange and yellow, the autumn weather forcing them to wither away. nature really wasnât that different from the human race.
he came to a halt, glancing at the sign of the building ahead. he somehow ended up at his schoolâs library, quite fitting. he entered, a gush of the scent of old pages filling his nostrils the second he walked through the door.
it was quiet. not in the way how a library should be, though. it was quiet in the way of gloom, his gut twisting back and forth.
melchior cast his eyes down as he walked over to the psychology section. he remembered what he was supposed to do now. he had a stupid psychology exam tomorrow morning and he didnât know a single ounce of the material.
he picked up one of the textbooks used in the class and bringing it to a table, cracking it open and flipping to chapter six: âinitial impression formationâ. this was such a stupid unit. everything was stupid.
after a solid five minutes of reading about body language and first impressions, he let out a loud groan and let his head drop on the table. why read about psychology when you can actually look at real, living, and breathing people and study that instead of reading examples?
melchior heaved his heavy head upright and glanced around the library. it was completely empty other than the librarian who was shooting death glares at him.
he went to stand up, holding his heavy textbook in his left arm as he did so. whilst pushing his chair to his table, he turned around and was met with the sight of another teenager his age standing across the room.
he was lanky looking. rather tall, as well. he looked like one of those stereotypical skater boys, wearing his baggier than baggy worn jeans and an oversized band tee. his hair was jet black and looked like it needed a good brush. and just to add, this boy was smoking in the library, somewhat pissing melchior off even though he wouldnât deny a cigarette right about now. this boy was probably the last person youâd believe to set foot in a library.
melchior looked above the boyâs head to see a sign that said âclassicsâ, sparking something in him that gave him the confidence and motivation to try and strike conversation with mystery boy. his legs began to carry him across the library against his will, an extensive silence ringing in his ears.
his lips parted to speak to him, but just as the boy noticed his presence and looked up, his words caught in his throat. moritz. moritz stiefel was standing before him, unrecognizable as ever. âoh my god, mo?! where have you been?â melchior happily exclaimed, his arm mindlessly drifting up to rest his hand on moritzâs shoulder. the boy who was half his missing heart finally appeared in front of him after years of being apart. if this wasnât fate, melchior didnât know what was. something in him would have shrieked if this hadn't occurred in a library setting.
moritz gently (however, his intentions didnât feel so) grasped melchiorâs arm by the wrist and pried it off of his own, a ticked off energy coming from him. he shot a sort of look at melchior, one of distaste, which made his gut wrench. his heart was stuck in his throat. âdad got a job in colorado. my mom missed the area and decided to come back, i dunno,â was all moritz muttered out before raising his cigarette to his thin, cracked lips before taking another long drag.
âoh, howâs she been? your mom, i mean?â melchior said, his voice slightly wavering, but unbeknownst to moritz. he was trying his damned hardest to hold a conversation, but his ass was making it practically impossible.
oh my god, this bitch. melchior internally sighed before mumbling, âcool. it was good seeing you again, man. hope to see you around soon?â
melchior walked away, being sure to face away from moritz as he did so, feeling tears already begin to prick his eyes. what had become of moritz? was this not fate? was this godâs way of giving him payback for being a raging atheist know-it-all at the ripe age of fourteen? he pushed open the front doors, psychology textbook still unpaid for in his arms as he exited the dingy building. the minute he stepped outside, rain began pouring from the sky above. just his luck.
he whipped out his cracked phone and scrolled to find wendlaâs contact, his fingers shaking and clicking the wrong letters as raindrops cascaded down his screen.
> wendy pleae come and pcik me up asp
> im at the schol librsry
he saw the typing bubbles immediately appear, promptly shutting off his phone and stuffing it in his pocket.
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