𝐓𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐓𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰

37 - Runways (EP. 02)

“Does being genius run in your family?” Aiden teased, wrapping an arm around his girlfriend’s shoulder.

“Maybe,” Elsa chuckled, leaning fondly into his touch. Aiden leaned in closer, and closer in a slow pace—before a finger pressed up against his lips instead of another.

Aiden blinked, clueless. Elsa tapped his nose slyly, “Not until we win, love. You said it yourself.”

“I regret my words.”

“No pain, no gain,” Elsa giggled, linking her arm around his, “Let’s go, pretty eyes. The show’s about to start.”

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

The five-year-old boy’s mouth quivered at the slightest bit in dismay. His teacher could only watch him stand there on stiff knees, as he stared at the occupied bulletin board containing the sloppiest lines making up colorful houses and castles or a vibrant horse with an unnecessary hump. Each illustration only deepened Aiden’s pit of dread.

His hand smelled like crayons, and there were stray remnants of ink from the marker he used at the pad of his thumb and the flat of his palm. The wrinkling paper in his grasp should be up there, pinned amongst the others, not... Just why?

“I-i’m sorry, Aiden. Maybe next time there will be space left for your drawing?”

That certain ‘next time’ never did came, those two words were becoming too threadbare for Aiden to consider that next time, it’d be appreciated by the families coming every Family Day, framed alongside another child’s and not bereft and left out in another board, looking like a lonely island. Next time, smiles would greet it, admiration too—but when was next time?

“It’s okay.”

and Aiden didn’t mean it.
                                             
Mrs. Williams knew.

The child left, muttering softly under his breath that big boys don’t cry, big boys can’t cry, someone needs to protect mama from papa and that someone should be someone brave—waiting for a next time should be easy, mama appreciates him everyday and that’s all that matters. Right?

A scribble wasn’t worth his tears.

He just didn’t know that ‘next time’ was only nineteen years away.

•••

In a blink, his dreams came to life.

Reality flashed back to the designer’s emerald irises upon the blond’s squeal; a noise he seldomly hears from her, but it was a sign she was more than excited. “Love, look!” that was what he heard from the happy spectator, an index finger pointing at the limelight.

Which was an exhibit of a rewarding journey of tragedies, chipped pencils, anxiety and crumpled papers.

Tears came to fruition.

His ears were deaf to the mesmerized clamor the other audience made. His eyes were blind to the constant white flashes behind him—even the hearty squeeze Elsa gave his arm, sending him the message that he did it, that he had done a great job, that everything was worth it after all. The world now recognized Aiden Fireheart—something not so important.

Aiden happily cried about how he now recognizes himself, through each step the model made to tell the world how much time has passed by, how much a boy with anxiety has grown.

He heard a sniffle beside him.

Elsa had always been far too busy to attend shows. She usually gives the opportunity to Heine, with him being an official representative anyway. Yet, her absence in those previous shows didn’t cause any regret. She was a witness of his hard work.

She had never seen a fulfilled dream so beautiful. To strive hard for passion, the wonderful feeling of an achievement; Elsa could feel what he could feel right at the moment. Being born in a powerful family, her goals back then were less... Thrilling, when she has everything anybody wished for at the palm of her hands.

Another sniffle.

Because never had she seen a fulfilled dream so, so beautiful.

“Come’ere, you.”

She heard him tearfully chuckle and she felt him pull her close, all their attention focused on the ongoing exhibition. His arm felt so comfortable holding her tight, like she fitted so perfectly.

Walking reflections of colors passed by Aiden’s eyes. And then the world returned to him in a flash, euphoria swelling deeply in his chest.

Standing ovation.

To be continued
on the next chapter...