1 CHAPTER 1
Kenji’s Point of View
Ever think of how being a real life puppet feels like? HELL, really.
Yes, I have everything your mind could think of, but these aren’t the things that could fill the scarcity I feel. I’m like a flower with incomplete petals. Petals where you can only find out of this world I’m in. Out of this jail build by the people around me. Out of this tight embrace my family had set me.
A weird sound filled my room, bearing a suffocating odor, confidently roaming around my air-conditioned room.
“What the heck?!”
Brent left out an evil laugh before closing the door. I immediately ran out of my bed and went out of my room before his fart stick on my shirt. My eyes automatically saw Brent hiding behind a cabinet.
“Sorry,” he said with a tinyvoice, wide smile, and a peace sign.
“Run, Brent,” I said in a low toned voice.
His eyes quickly widened including his mouth and ran as fast as he can when I started to step my feet.
“Ken, I t-tried to get you a-attention with a knock,” he said, barely catching his breath while running. He ran downstairs but he slipped on the third step. Bad for him.
I quickly cornered his head with my arms and give him punches while still getting downstairs.
“Your fart f---king stinks, bastard!”
“I know! Just get off me!”
“You son of a b—tch and a bad-ss corrupt man, you’ll f—cking pay—!!”
“Alexander Kenji!”
I looked at the man who exclaimed my name, it’s dad. He’s with mom and Brent’s family. I get rid of Brent and stand properly while my head’s down.
My mom went to me and dragged me out of the scene.
Scolding time.
“How many times do I have to tell you that Brent’s dad is not corrupt? When are you going to listen to me?” she told me with a low toned sharp voice.
“Whatever. What are they doing here?” I asked.
“You’ll know after you change your clothes and what’s that smell?” she smelled my shirt, “You stink.”
“It’s Brent’s fart.” I said before leaving her.
I went to my room again and left the door open. I went also to the window and to my balcony to open them. Lastly, I turned my air condition off before taking a shower.
I changed my clothes with a suit. I sprayed a perfume on my suit before going out and went to the kitchen. When I got there, I found them formally talking about both party’s popularity, as usual. Before sitting down beside my mom, I bowed my head in front of the camera.
“Oh, here’s Kenji.”
I, again, slightly bowed my head because I don’t want to stand up just to formally bow to them, “Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Miller.” I greeted.
They also slightly bowed their heads.
“By the way, your new movie is great, huh. Congratulations to the both of you!” Brent’s mom said.
I looked at Brent when he kicked my feet under the table, and mouthed, “She didn’t watched it.”
“Shut the f—ck up, Brent.” I mouthed back.
His eyes diverted to my mom when she asked something, “How’s being the hottest model in New York, Brent?”
“Still the hottest, tita,” he answered with a wink.
“And he also got the most stinkiest fart,” I laughed after saying that.
Everyone is silent after saying those words. I lift my head up to see what’s going on but their eyes are all on me.
I felt that Brent kicked my feet again under the table, so I looked at him and his face is like he wants to laugh but he needs to act that he’s startled. In short, he looks stupid.
Dad coughed to start a new topic, “Uhm, Amanda and I have something to announce.”
I felt relief when every eyes left me and diverted into Dad.
“We’re planning to send Alexander Kenji, our son, to France to start his modeling career.”
I almost blurted out what I was eating when I hear it. Everyone was shocked, including me.
Now, I hate this part.
“It’s a sudden decision, tito Frank. Why not here in New York?”
“France is one of the country that is known for fashion, and since its Alexander’s first time, it’s a good start. You can go there, too, if you want.”
Brent looked at me and flashed a big smile, greedily with his eye brows going up and down. I raised my eye brow at him and rolled my eyes. I irritably finished my food while they continue their talking.
“May I go back to my room? I need to sleep.” I said. Mom held my hand and smiled before nodding. I bowed again as a goodbye and gently get out of the scene.
I went upstairs and directly get in my room. I closed the door before loosened my tie up and sat at my bed. I am staring at my floor with my eyebrows met.
No, this is not right. I don’t want to be an artist. I don’t want to be a model. I don’t want my photos everywhere. I don’t want my photo in billboard endorsing something. I don’t want a standee of myself in any store. I don’t want a big poster.
I don’t want to be a cover in magazine. I want to live a normal life.
I removed my shoes and the socks as well and threw it everywhere in front of me, and I heard a knock. I looked at my door before opening it, and saw the man who farted in my room.
“What?” I asked before closing the door.
“I’m thinking of going with you,” he said while he’s finding something to sit on.
With laziness in my body, I walked towards my bed and lay my back, “You really think I’m going there? Heck, no.”
“Then be a model instead in New York.”
“You also think I want to be a model? I’m just handsome, but I’m not like other guys who wants to be a model. I’ll give the chance to others, instead.”
“It’s for your father.”
“Then let him be a model himself. Life of an artist, sucks.”
“Our parents, sucks,” he said and just by that he let himself fall in the bed.
