Daedalus

here we go again

In case I was not clear, I mean with a heavy entirety that nothing wavers in this town in Wisconsin, especially not for me. I'm sure other people are enjoying eventful lives here, but I am not. I, someone whose label as a writer should guarantee me at least a bit of action, don't experience anything except for the monotony of a daily routine. I wake up around seven o'clock in the morning, brew the same type of coffee from the same brand, write when I feel like it (which I haven't done for a week, granting me quite the dilemma), deal with Lent when he needs a favor (he most often calls on me to open bottles for him, thus completing both halves of a coin), then later deal with Fleming when she scolds me for disposing of my socks all around her house. Nighttime is where things can differ, but they never differ much. It's usually oriented towards a movie, or an activity equally as domestic. I don't witness the kind of adventure documented in movies about writers. Yes, I possess the same moodiness that they do, but I'm not off milking existence in spite of it.

My life is a flat line on a hospital monitor. I might as well be dead, and maybe I could be, because I know that if I did die, nothing would be affected by it. Yeah, living this way would be easier if I ever fervidly sought death (although, secretly every human is trying to kill themselves; some of them are just more efficient at it), because then no one would care, but fighting against pointless matters should not be my most notable rebellion. I deserve to change the world, not to simply exist in it, so perhaps jazzing up my life would be the best option for me.

"Did I ever tell you how I gained the inspiration to write music?" Fleming chirps, and when I shake my head no, she proceeds to tell me. "As you know, my dad is from the Czech Republic, and my mom is from France. They decided, when I was seventeen, to take me to see their old homes in Prague and Paris, and I was so deeply captivated that the need to write music settled over me as if it were prophecy, and here I am, ten years later, with a fresh mind, so maybe all you need is to experience life from a different place."

"In case you haven't noticed, America doesn't have much culture besides heavy conservatism and a craving for diabetes."

Sybil discharges a chuckle from beside me. "How wonderful it is living with a crotchety old man."

Although Fleming does not remark on my bitterness as Sybil did, she tacitly rejects it by elaborating on her newly proposed plan. "If you would like, Basil, my parents still own their childhood homes, despite now living in America, so I could ask if they would lodge you there."

Fleming is a very generous woman (sometimes she is too generous, but the receiving end never complains about it, instead praises her as some sort of modern day saint), and I admire her for that, though I cannot accept an offer that was thrown together in seconds by childish whims. However, there's nothing to stop me from craving more information about it, as changing my mind would be brought about most likely from grasping just how everything will fall together.

I angle my brow higher than it's ever reached, astonished. "For free?"

"Probably. My parents aren't very demanding people." Fleming shrugs, shooing my apprehensions out of my doors and into hers so that I will seriously consider what she's proposed. "Worrying about the logistics will only slow you down. I can figure it all out."

"Are you sure, Fleming?"

"Just do it, Basil!" Lent exclaims, rousing himself from silence.

Half of my mouth droops into an ambivalent expression with the knowledge that my friends are overturning the glue composing my comfort zone, and I anxiously state, "I don't want to impose."

Dismissing my qualms about this rather impulsive setup, Fleming rolls her eyes. "Ugh, you're adorable, really."

"I'm sure the Koneckys would be happy to host you, Basil," Sybil assures me calmly, but I'm still as hesitant as ever. This only seems like trouble from where we stand now, so I persist.

"Even if they do, I can't just leave for the summer without any knowledge of the area. I don't know Czech or French, so being all alone in an unfamiliar place on the other side of the world doesn't sound very appealing."

Lent, someone I thought to be my best friend, is apparently on the other side now, and he's even prepared a counterattack to what he knows disconcerts me. "Enough people know English in Prague and Paris, especially because they're the capital cities, and I could go with you if you still require help with French."

"Thanks, Lent." This is all I can say without coming off as ungrateful. While I actually am very grateful for my friends, my love for them is on the line tonight. Lent is the light of my life, the artist who colored me blue, my Icarus, and I would hate to see him melancholy, but life is too short to provide for people other than yourself. I can pretend as much as I want, but I'm not fully contracted to anything yet.

"I also think this trip will be extremely beneficial to me as well, so you'd better make the right decision," Lent adds, which just piles another layer of stress upon my already stressed soul, but I do, in fact, consider what he has to say.

Things are rarely split in terms of good and evil. What I may have cherished in my childhood could potentially be the bane of my existence now, and vice versa. It's all correlated to perception. This serves to remind me that traveling to Paris and Prague may alter how I feel about it currently, and I don't want to live a life of regretting adventures I could've experienced but didn't because I was too scared to take a risk. Although, Sybil and Fleming will never let me forget it if I publicly change my mind here and now, so I still have to pretend to be as petulant as a whining child.

I release a moan louder than anything I've ever mustered, all to convey my distaste, but I nevertheless agree to the conditions, however unfavorably. "Fine, I'll do it."

But it may be worth it, for I don't think Lent has ever looked happier.

~~~~~

A/N: hello I'm Dakota (he/they) and welcome to this new adventure

I hope this is....,,,,appealing

idk it's gonna be really fluffy and really pretentious and stuff so if you like that, keep reading, and if you liked this chapter, you can leave a like or a comment if you want haha shameless self promo but yeah thanks

~Dakota