Saving Everest

11.

"Wanna wear my hoodie?" he asked, looking me right in the eyes.

The infamous grey hoodie. He was allowing me to wear his hoodie. The Everest hoodie.

The hoodie was warm and smelled like what I imagined it to smell like. His natural scent with a slight undertone of nicotine. It was big, but that just made it all that more comforting.

Everest wore a fitting short-sleeved black T-shirt underneath. His arms were lean but muscular. A tattoo caught my eye and I was shocked, I had no clue he had a tattoo.

"I didn't know you had tats." I chuckled poking his arm.

He pulled his arm into his lap. "I only have one."

"Anyway, I think it's cool," I responded and he looked up from his lap, his eyes meeting mine. An unreadable expression upon his features.

"You think anything is cool," he told me, a ghost smile on his lips.

I scoffed. "No, I do not."

"Like I said before, you find the beauty in anything. It's like you're not real. Unicorns and fairies come over to your house on Saturdays and you have tea parties," he told me.

I threw a nearby sugar packet at him.

He chuckled.

"Because life is too short to live it recklessly. I can't do negative things, it's better to be positive; to be good. I need to be mature and see the world on its better side," I explained.

"You know, I never knew you existed until recently. Not at a party or a football game or anything. You don't even eat in the cafeteria, it's like you want to be invisible. You're a teenager, you are supposed to be reckless and stupid."

I took in his words as I stared at a nearby napkin dispenser. He talks a lot of game for someone who doesn't even want to continue his life, and that's when an idea struck me.

"Okay let's make a deal. You teach me the destruction, and I'll teach you the beauty," I told him, whipping my hand out for him to shake. The large sleeve slid down my arm and covered my hand, causing me to push it up to my elbow.

He stared at my hand for a second, before gripping into the handshake. "You got yourself a deal."

I felt a wave of victory crash over me, I'm going to have a chance to convince him that this world is worth staying on.

"Welcome to open mic night, would anyone like to go first?" Rose announced into the mic and I nudged Everest.

"Hell no," Everest mouthed back to me as if I asked him to suck my right toe.

"Remember the deal," I whispered, before standing up. "Everest will."

His eyes grew big and he shook his head vigorously. I pulled him by his arm to make him stand up, and he looked around the semi-crowded cafe. His eyes flickered to each corner and each person, he gulped visibly.

"I don't have a band or anything," he announced, trying to get out of it. I almost feel bad for putting him in this situation, but there is only like fifteen people in here. He should explore other interests other than football.

And even if he's bad, he'll learn that this isn't for him. Singing isn't the only thing in the music industry, he could explore other options.

"That's alright, come on up. We have a band already on set, just tell them what song you want to sing." Poppy began slightly pushing Everest towards the stage, and he helplessly looked back at me.

He climbed up on the stage and blocked his eyes from the overhanging lights.

Rose nudged him closer to the band. "Tell them what you're going to sing," she encouraged, before exiting off of the stage.

He awkwardly whispered to the band, and stood in front of the mic.

"Hi, uh, my name is Everest and for the first time I'm going to sing." He gripped the mic, and I stared at him as he signaled the band behind him.

The slow melodies carried through the cafe. And from the first haunting note that passed through his lips, he captured the attention of everyone in the cafe.

I can't lie, as that note crawled from the soles of my feet and engulfed me whole. It was so disturbingly beautiful, and it doesn't make sense but it made sense

That moment it made sense

"We clawed, we chained, our hearts in vain," he sung into the mic. It was like everything disappeared and it was just him and his emotions.

People looked up from their laptops, conversations stopped—all attention was on him.

I did not know he could sing like that

The runs and riffs were perfectly imperfect, something that couldn't be rehearsed. The raw emotion that spilled from his diaphragm and passed his lips, knocked everyone off their feet.

"I never meant to start a war." I felt like I was in someplace different. His tone was raspy, his face contorted in pain. The emotional kind.

I wanted to cry, because, my god, that was too perfect.

When he finished, the room was dead silent. We were all in shock, he gripped the mic like he was afraid it was going to leave him. His head hung low, chest expanding as he took his deep breaths. It was like he didn't know we were there, like he completely forgot that people were watching him.

Poppy was the first to clap, she jumped up from her chair and hooted. The rest of the room followed, clapping loudly. Whistling. But I still couldn't move.

He slowly looked up and watched as people cheered for him. There were only fifteen people, but it felt like more. I felt so incredibly proud of him. I watched his features as they grew into a breathtaking smile. The smile was so genuine and pure, I never wanted it to end. His smile was like living poetry.

His gaze met mine, and it seemed as though his eyes were smiling. I thought the rain was beautiful, but nothing compares to this. Watching someone broken, finally getting a glimpse of happiness after so long.

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Heyyyyy guyyysssss

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Lol, thanks for the support though. Just you continuing to read my book, is enough.

Love you guys
-skyxx