Perfect II: The Art Of Living

Chapter 1

 Chapter 1

Worth

--- Merriam Webster’s Definition

n.

: an amount of something that has a specified value, that lasts for a specified length of time, etc.

--- Society’s Definition

n.

: a number of accomplishments that causes goodness to a majority of people

---Ethan’s Definition:

n.

: a number or amount of something that gives him or others satisfaction or anything that pleasures the sanity of an individual

Ethan stared at the poster on the bulletin board.

“Word Fortress ’17: Technical Hardbound Writing Contest!”

         The poster, simply, was dull. Gungush, font 72 printed on a coupon bond? What a great way to start another year of expectations and writing on some internet blog, Ethan grumbled and let himself sigh with disappointment. He flipped his fuchsia pashmina scarf onto his back and tightened the belt at the back of his vest.

           Enid giggled behind him; his ever supportive friend since junior high school. The girl had dense black hair, half Japanese and half British like him, another bookworm, another wear-your-glass-always person and most of all, a fellow introvert. Ethan did not expect himself to be accepted in NYAAS with her. She was a smartass. Enid could memorize a textbook page in minute which Ethan greatly envied. Except from graduating valedictorian, his inferiority complex usually overwhelmed him. At first, he had a dilemma joining the (un)popular contest. However, he convinced himself that nothing could happen if he would try. Ethan was not shocked seeing himself deciding his career for four years, writing his very own Technical Hardbound. Writing was his life; his jaunt from the horrid heart of life. He scanned the bottom page and saw a very tiny footnote:

Criteria:

Chosen topic

Points

Delivery

Style

Should be convincing

The book should also be a collaboration with another NYAAS student

Prize: Publication of the book

         He grunted seeing ‘high school like’ criteria. He wondered if it was a wild poster glued on the wall by some punk or emotionally disturbed student on a large corkboard. However, seeing NYAAS; oaken walls, Versailles windows, glass chandeliers, velvet couches and vintage lamps, he shrugged the picture of a dyed spiky haired student blending in with the little geniuses (he is not a genius, according to him).

           “Interested?” a voice called behind him as he viewed other posts. He was sure it wasn’t Enid. Enid’s voice was much thinner and light. The voice chuckled sardonically, evolving into a more unlikely Enid Voice. “That is NYAAS’s contest for every freshman here in the campus. You must pass a Technical Hardbound by the end of your ‘term’ in the academy.”

           Like I never did research… he snidely remarked. “Journalist?” he asked the blabbering guy leaning on the wall in front. He wore a rainbow bowtie and a pink polo shirt that was neatly tucked in his brown khaki pants. He started speaking, revolting from his teasing smirk.