Heaven Knows

2: Dominic

Heaven Knows OST: ♫ Into My Arms by The Maine ♫

                             ♫ Do it to me by This Century ♫

Chapter 2: Dominic

I think the concept of love is to make someone happy. To make someone feel that he or she is not alone in this world. Love isn’t made for tears to be shed on pillows at night. I think it is made for the same reason you wake up every day. But what I don’t understand is to how love can actually make all the five senses of our body work and break down at the same time.

It’s amazing how a vein can be a purpose to connect your heart to your brain like a Bluetooth. How your heart can receive the messages from your brain that makes it beat faster than it should be. I’ve never thought I’d feel something like this. I mean, it’s a weird sensation. All because I just wanted to get laid. But I think I am in the course of trouble. In trouble of falling in love with someone I don’t even know. Trouble is technically the ambiguity of love at first sight.

But of course I know her. How do I know that? My heart told me. It’s like Jack Frost saying he’s Jack Frost because the Moon told him. Get the gist?

She’s that girl with cold blue eyes. She’s that girl with that sad expression on her face. She’s that girl I saved yesterday. She’s that girl who ignored me but I like her. She does nothing but I fell for her. I kept on thinking about her even though I know she had never ever thought about me.

How weird love can be. It gets you very unprepared and rash.

***

Yesterday was like a holiday but surely no one likes Monday than I do.

I go to a prestigious, private institution (which is, by the way, also named after a saint) where future world class musicians and artists are being well trained professionally. It’s not Juilliard or Rhode Island School of Design but it’s a place I like to call my play ground.

My parents and I share the love for music somehow, thank God. That‘s why in my secondary education they’ve packaged the deal to put me in St. Louise’s School of Music and Arts so that later on when I’ve mastered my brilliant skills for music the school would give me a recommendation for Juilliard. To state the not-so-obvious, I am a Music Major. My tagalong best friend, Scott Orson, has miraculously, by the grace of my saint-ness, passed the audition to get in. He sadly knows one instrument to play though and that is what you call the percussion nowadays. But he claims to be learning a good deal out of the musical instruments of St. Louis although he’d get an “A+” from me for reaping girls at our school. He also defends that he’s not stalking me on purpose. He says he just can’t live without me. Now that sounds gay of him. Affirmative points though, there is no such thing as Mathematics as a Music Major. So it’s a good high school life to live without numbers but musical notes on your music sheets.

“Her name’s Heaven.” Scott barges in my train of thought and I took my earphones off. I have no idea what he’s been talking about earlier. Probably the freshmen girls again.

The constant question mark look on my face planted a sour tint on his face. “Dom, I said: her name’s Heaven.”

I cast a skeptic eyebrow at him. He rolls his eyes at me. “Did you hear me?”

I shrugged and he gawks at me.

“Scott, I don’t care about your freshmen jailbaits, okay.” I pulled my earphones back to my ears and he stops me.

“Not even your South Park girl?”

The sudden spark of curiosity on my face intensified Scott’s cockiness. But then South Park’s an animated film that I most certainly don’t want kids to be watching.