by A Uscila
There might be another reason for why Luke hated to go out shopping.
Every single freaking person was boundlessly better looking than he was. Be it in actual appearance or sense of fashion. They all seemed to be in better moods as well. What were they so happy about anyway? It’s not like their lives had something Luke’s didn’t. Well maybe a social circle or two. Ok, maybe even a soulmate. Hobbies? A purpose they willingly pursued? A proper diet? Actual leisure time which they enjoyed? Blissful ignorance regarding the futility of life?
That explained a lot.
Getting back to the superior looks of everyone present. Luke was probably the only one here, who got dressed in whatever came in hand first. It’s as if going out shopping was some exceptionally important occasion to everyone else - which demanded an exorbitant amount of preparation regarding your outward appearance. Heck, the place looked like one big fashion show - where everyone walked around in circles just to show off their obviously superior looks or whatever it was they felt pride in. All of it made Luke ache and wince.
This bottomless contrast just forced poor Luke to stand out even more. Seeing as the two sides were obviously extreme examples. On one hand there was everyone else - fabulously clothed, a shitload of make-up, washed, polished and who knows what else. While on the other one - Luke. Unwashed for at least four days, worn average clothing, barely kept hair - which would not listen without proper haircare products either way, and almost physically projected gloom. As a matter of fact, the development made Luke look and feel even worse than he might have been in different circumstance.
Unusually angry today, wasn’t he? It’s quite possible that all-of-the-above mentioned reasons might have had a part in Luke’s general grumpiness, but today - another occurrence seemed to enter the fold.
A peculiar acoustic ache kept on gnawing upon Luke’s ears, as he browsed the various shops that littered every single floor he visited. Echoes of “free will” and “drones” kept on drifting by. For a time - that was it. Accompanied by an ominous premonition, a sinking feeling that added to his usual anxiety.
That feeling turned into a clawing sensation and unconscious covering of the ears as he continued on, a self-preservation mechanism warning to stay away. Which Luke completely ignored. After all - he wouldn’t be himself by avoiding danger. Though more like - he wouldn’t be himself if he actually realized he’s walking into danger.
Echoing words and phrases slowly turned into whole sentences - its content a symbol to the horror that might reveal itself.
“Don’t allow yourself to be degraded into mindless drones by your government. Retain your free will, protect your rights!” - Like an invisible, yet obviously sinister creature - the content drifted above Luke. Poor Luke, who continued on his mission in complete obliviousness. Unbeknownst of what he journeyed towards.
Eventually - he did face the consequences.
As Luke exited at least the twentieth shop this torturous evening, a surprisingly meager amount of bags hanging from both skeletal limbs - the monster finally revealed itself. It was as if those responsible for all the ominous babble, could practically smell easy prey.
A group of four. Morbidly dark attire, make-up and accessories. Three males and one female. Metal dangled from various loops and hooks their peculiar fashion sense carried, while the occasional sounds of paper being crumpled drifted around. Seeing as the group held various pamphlets - forcing others to discard it instead of doing it themselves. What a bunch of hooligans.
“Shake off the chains that you are bound in! Help us fight the government and retrieve the rights that we deserve!” - The middle member of the gathering proclaimed loudly while on the move. His colleagues busily handing out pamphlets to all who were brave enough to pass them. A peculiar slogan coming from a person covered in chains from head to toe - “Help us get rid of the tool for mind control that is Alternative Reality!”
Oh no he didn’t. He did not just personally attack Luke’s choice in time-passing activities. Or activity in this case. If not for his social-awkwardness, Luke might just have jumped in to defend himself. Since the proclamation was obviously aimed at him directly.
“You!” - The loudmouth fellow suddenly shouted, while quite impolitely pointing a black fingernail towards Luke. He quickly approached, with sudden interest - stepping way over the line of personal space, passing the boundary in which Luke felt comfortable enough to socialize. Which was at least two meters. Eyes surrounded heavily by eyeliner stared straight into Luke’s soul, while light reflected off the many metal parts the fellow wore. Momentarily blinding and stunning poor Luke. He didn’t even have the time to properly set up his people repelling stare. Seems like the encountered foe was quite the strategic mastermind. All that metal, the proper angle of the lighting, the exact distance between the two participants. Genius, all of it. Luke couldn’t help but be at a disadvantage. Setting up such a quality countermeasure against Luke and his meager amount of weapons. In most cases - his looks, were enough to keep people away. He was seriously unprepared.
“Aren’t you tired of being manipulated? Aren’t you tired of the lack of personal transport, forced to suffer the tight iron confines of public transport - like cattle herded to the slaughter!?” - He started shouting once again, disregarding any forms of proper manners, as the tone of voice was way too loud for a discussion at such close proximity. That and the contents burned. Luke squirmed and was about to step away or around. Any attempts to escape were futile though - as the attacker tightly grabbed both of Luke’s shoulders. Refusing to let go of the victim in both touch and eye-contact. Forcing the recipient’s eyes to constantly dart around, avoiding at least the bare minimum of contact - “Are you not tired of being forced to mass-entertainment, succumbing to Alternative Reality and the schemes of its creators?! Kept away from real communication, with real people?”
Luke’s shoulders shook at that, as his personal choice in life was once again attacked. As if the overall pressure his current whereabouts carried weren’t enough. All those glares, all those misplaced expectations to spend money, all those good looking people. All that tickled inferiority complex. There’s only so much poor Luke could take before blowing up.
With a sudden motion - Luke’s shoulders rose, back straightened. Awkwardly, he raised his chin up and finally stared the supposed offender eye to eye from a weird angle. Both of his oculars practically ready to burst from between the eyelids. Teeth visibly clenched.
So sudden was the change in body language that the verbal opponent reflexively backed up - releasing Luke’s shoulders from his black-nailed clutches.
Luke leaned towards his foe, finally giving voice to the swirling emotions that were obviously about to burst - “What I’m tired of is people being presumptuous” - He started with emotion, the likely monologue picking up in speed as Luke continued on, the first few words being practically spat out - “I’m tired of others writing my own life story for me. Telling me what I am and what I do as if they know better. Forcing me into a frame that goes against my naturel. Cursing me to inner turmoil!” - His tone picking up, heated hand motions joining the fray - “I’m tired of people using circumstance to further their own goals. Using others to feed their own fragile ego. I’m tired of myself, of not being strong enough and of sucking at conversations!” - Endlessly, he went on – hands shaking, eyes starting to water due to the strain of keeping them open for so long, refusing to blink no matter what. Certainly not due to being overcome by his own emotions.
As if that wasn’t enough - Luke even encountered quite the challenge. Seeing as he found it hard to stare into both of his opponent’s eyes at the same time, forced to stare in between the two targets - “Finally, I’m tired of the world, I’m tired of fucking individuals and I’m tired of people like you” - He finished dramatically, his bony finger stabbing into the chest of the recipient. What a brave move, considering who we’re dealing with here. In a grand finale, Luke tried leaving the crime scene while everyone wa
s stunned by what just took place. Quite the tactical mind that Luke – stun everyone to assure a safe retreat.
“What a loser” - A voice echoed past from an unrelated passerby. Female, by the sound of it. Which shattered all hopes, while being a complete norm by Luke’s standards. Seems like the tactic failed.
“Behold the frustrated number. The dog that is cursed to chase his own tail until the end of his time! The product of today’s society! What took place today is but a glimpse of what might come of us all, if we do not act to avoid such an outcome! Free yourselves from the manipulation of those above and taste true freedom! - Quick on the uptake Luke’s opponent was, seeing as he quickly turned the whole situation around, all to serve his own means. Quite mature of him though, seeing as he could have easily beaten up Luke right there and then. Though the words spoken did seem to agitate the unnerved survivor somewhat, as he blew air through pressed lips in silent mockery.
“Freedom? What freedom?” - A barely audible murmur escaped his lips, a rhetoric question that needed no answer. Quite the desperate attempt to save face - though only in front of himself. Another example of how peculiarly the brain works in certain situations. Or Luke does, at least.
It did not go unnoticed either. Unluckily for him.
“Creep” - Another unfamiliar voice, yet a familiar phrase caught Luke’s attention, as it drifted past. Startled, he gave a quick side-glance towards the direction of its origin, only to sigh in relief, seeing as it did not come from a familiar source.
Maybe Willow did have a point though. Maybe Luke really was a creep - seeing as two completely unrelated individuals came to the same conclusion.
Regardless. That really was quite the pleasant song and Luke should really listen to it again once back home.
*******
Going outside always did leave Luke with a bad aftertaste. Comparable to the times he had heartburn all night, and woke up in the morning to find out - since an unpleasant, slightly burning sensation was left lingering on his tongue. Usually, he’d wash it down with something to drink or a nice morning meal - which was exactly what he was planning on doing now.
Luke was inside an average restaurant - kept clean and polished enough to feel comfortable. One of those family packed places - where children were left to roam between the tables. Annoying both their parents and those unrelated. Not a place to sit and contemplate the horrors of life, surely.
The place did serve quite the stake - and that is exactly why Luke was here. Every now and then - he did feel like eating out. Something that is prepared with a honed hand and had a few unfrozen vegetables on the side. Sure, the meat would probably be spat on and that’s not even mentioning the sauce. But, it was still somewhat healthier than what Luke prepared for himself most often. That is - if he managed to force himself to the task at all. Usually - his dinner would be either unfrozen fries, a quick batch of easy to make spaghetti, or just baked potatoes. With a lot of salt. How he managed to survive until now - was a mystery in its own.
There was one huge drawback to the whole endeavor though - waiting. That’s right. Such family favored establishments were always packed with a fresh supply of screaming children, bickering parents or overly smitten young couples that just couldn’t stop themselves from caressing their partners in one way or another. He did like to stare at the latter - enough to make them feel uncomfortable. Not enough to force one of the two or both to come over and beat the shit out of him, though.
Staff was usually undermanned, stressed and prone to mistakes and delays. Thus the ordered meal would usually take at least 40 minutes to arrive. If they didn’t get the orders mixed up to begin with.
Obviously - this was one of those days. For almost an hour, Luke was practically chewing his table in anticipation, driven to the brink by his anti-social insecurities. Stressed by the racket and the fact that he had to remain stationary in a place packed with other people. Other humans! The terror. Poor Luke.
When stressed, or uncomfortable even in the slightest - people liked to occupy themselves with something. Anything really - usually with their technological knick-knacks. Smart-phones, tablets, electronic books, heck… minefield game-consoles? Anything, just so that they wouldn’t need to sit around doing nothing, while staring at other individuals in the same predicament. All due to being stranded in a socially prompting environment, yet blocked by circumstance.
Luke was no different of course. He was human - more or less. Thus, when in a socially active environment, being a social creature - yet having no one to socialize with, he was pushed to occupy himself with something else. Which he would have done if he had anything with him - seeing as Luke forgot his phone at home. He couldn’t even look at its shinny monitor and pretend he’s reading something, or checking non-existent messages.
He could spend time browsing through the stuff he bought previously. After that life and death encounter in the shopping mall. Sadly - inspecting clothes in a family restaurant, did not seem like a well thought through idea. Let alone effective in time passing. Thus he left the bags where they were - right next to his feet. Their paper edges leaning on his right leg. Just so he would feel if anyone would suddenly decide to snatch it away. A little trick he learned way back in school. One can never be too prepared.
For one whole hour, Luke was forced to glance around uncomfortably, shifting in his seat, turning tableware around, dodging lifted eyebrows. At this point - Luke was going crazy. Literally. He was moments away from jumping up and shooting everyone in the establishment. Thank god for gun-control.
Since he had no such tool at his disposal, he was forced to take drastic measures. Luke just had to stare at people for a few seconds longer at a time. They asked for it! It wasn’t Luke’s fault! Circumstances forced his hand! Or eyes, in this particular case.
Until now, Luke managed to glimpse around at various tables, just to make sure what crowd he was a part of. Making sure at the same time - that no kid managed to trip over his overly-large feet or steal something from his table.
Now though - he started to look straight into the eyes of those around, actually observing what kind of people he was cursed to be in the company of. Amusing himself with closeted judgement and condemnation of others. Ah, the illusion of superiority - embracing it was always a pleasant time passing activity.
Most of those in close proximity were ordinary people - middle aged men and women. Restless and loud children. A few young couples or newlyweds, snuggling together in a show of young love and happiness. Frankly - all of it made Luke sick. Or jealous. One of the two. Maybe both.
Finally - he turned to look towards a nearby table - occupied by three women. It was hard to tell their age, though they were definitely past their thirties. Their prime age of youthful playing around long gone. Though judging by their sullen predisposition - it might have never happened to begin with. Who knows? Who was Luke to judge?
Slightly intrigued, Luke accidentally forgot himself and ended up observing their table for longer than planned for - certainly longer then the few seconds he planned on taking. What came after could only be expected - seeing as a stare from a creature such as he, was far from something pleasant.
One of the ladies, a brunette slightly on the chubby side - turned right back at the silent observer. A perfect example of the abyss looking back at you.
“What are you looking at, you fucking rapist?” - The woman asked, her lips twisted in obvious disdain. Eyes narrowing in a predatory fashion.
Luke looked her in the eyes for a moment or two, neither anger not surprise mirrored by his facial features, desperate to pretend he wasn’t regretful or startled - “At a probable victim” - He finally said, going back to what he was doing after an innocent shrug. Which was staring down at his empty plate. Completely oblivious of the tactical mistake he just made.
Stunned - the brunette continued to stare at Luke with eyes practically ready to pop out of their sockets, her two colleagues almost stunned just as much. Not long did the s
ilence take.
With a shriek, the brunette stood up and went on the offensive. She shrieked in one of those cliché and extremely annoying womanly screams, that one usually heard in an overrated Hollywood movie - “Help! He said he’s going to rape me!” - Loud enough for even those outside to hear, she stretched out the words in an extremely high note that usually only women were capable of delivering. Threatening to knock Luke out with that sonic attack. Pulling out aces, outgunning poor him.
Startled, those around turned to look at the scene agape. Children frozen in their tracks, females frowning upon Luke without even presuming his innocence. Men? Well, they did not want to sleep on the couch, so how could they not support their second halves?
Soon enough, the restaurant staff swarmed to the scene - the manager being at the very front. A male. Thank god. Luke had some hope after all.
A lean, dark haired man, with a neat and well-kept staff uniform. In haste, he vaguely interviewed the three iron ladies for bias info and turned to Luke eventually - “Is that true, sir?” - He asked, brows furrowed in concentration. Oh yes, this situation did indeed demand all of his brainpower.
“Nonsense” - Luke quickly replied, casting a disapproving glance towards the hysteric brunette - “I just said that she’s a probable victim. Which wasn’t much of a stretch - not with that attitude at least” - He replied innocently, completely comforted by his own chain of thoughts.
“See?! I told you! He’s a rapist! Call the police!” - The brunette quickly replied, her voice still on a similar height of tone, the attack obviously far from over.
“Castrate the fuck!” - One of her colleagues quickly added in, finding this opportunity perfect to deliver her general hate of men. Or Luke. Obviously, that form of justice was a much better way to solve the problem. No short-term solutions were good enough for this stand-up lady.
