A Couple Steps Back

Chapter 3

A new morning meant a new day. Although it wasn't quite time for school yet, John had woken up a while before his alarm, and he just couldn't get himself to fall back asleep.

Not after those dreams.

Slipping himself out of bed, he decided he might as well start his morning routine, heading into the bathroom to take a shower. Once he was done, he dried himself off, dressing himself in his uniform.

His eyes drifted off to the mirror, viewing himself. He did note that he looked better, but keeping his hair down didn't really fit his ideal image at the moment. After all, every time he's let it down, it usually represented him letting himself loose, and he didn't want people to think he was already resorting back to his old self. 

Grabbing the hair gel off of the counter, he twisted off the cap before dipping his fingers inside, grabbing himself a small scoop, but nothing outrageous like he used to. A thought came to his mind about how much hair gel he used to use, and it made him chuckle in response; if he had continued, he probably would have made a store run out. Though, of course, that was exaggerated, but it did lift up his mood a bit.

Brushing and spreading his hair about, he came up with his previous hairstyle from yesterday. He admired it, as it was like a symbol for himself. The hair gel was like his amount of control over himself, while his loose hair was his amount of freedom. Letting himself go without any control, or any sort of holding back, caused a war with his environment, but drowning his hair in a bath of hair gel, again exaggerated, meant he was trying to control himself too much, causing a war with himself. Neither had worked out for him, so now, he was applying a more reasonable amount of gel, a reasonable amount of control, while also letting some parts of his hair be more free; likewise, he was giving himself a reasonable amount of freedom.

Washing his hands off from the remainder of the gel, he closed the container before continuing with the rest of his morning routine, and even though he allowed himself to go at a slower pace, he still managed to finish much earlier than he wanted. Thus, it left a lot of room to sit around, and a lot of room to sit around meant that he had a lot of room to think.

So, that's what he did; he thought. Laying himself across the couch, with the back of his head laying against the arm, he closed his eyes as he imagined what kind of scenarios he may get himself into either day, or the days forth. If Zeke brought himself up again, he'd either avoid him, or if he confronted him, remind him that he wasn't interested. If he insists and tries to fight again? Defend himself, but not take it too far. And what about Cecile? -eh, she wasn't that bad. He could handle her.

As he continued to think about what could go wrong, his thoughts slowly drifted to another idea; what could go right, or in other words, what could he do right? What problems could he solve, what could he fix?

That's when the Safe House came to mind; all his thinking about Zeke brought him back to what he said about the Safe House, and what John had said against his words. There really was no reason for him to fight against it, it was merely his clouded thinking that morphed him into pure rage against it. Was he still somewhat annoyed by the fact that it was created so late? Yes, but, perhaps it was for a good thing. Who knows if anyone would have even joined without him practically shoving everyone into this corner where they felt as if they needed a safe space? Even though his past self is gone now, the club now has members that understand and appreciates its value, a value that, in his heart, he shared.

He suddenly sat up, swinging his legs off the couch as new ideas generated. Instead of sitting by, why not help? Why not join the Safe House?

As inspired as he was, his inspiration was soon dying out as the downcast of reality hit him; would he really be accepted there? After all, he was the reason that the Safe House was created, or at least, its need for creation was boosted by him. Would he still be avoided by everyone, scared that he might turn around and beat them when they trusted him?