Lord-Campione
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New Dawn Chapter: 014
🕑 Added 2024-09-18 02:36:13 +0000 UTCLike water and alcohol, reality and fiction began to merge like lovers, making Tysone dizzy. One month had gone by—and from time to time, he’d question if his previous life could have been a very lucid dream.
Was this reality? Or was his old life merely some fabricated dream?
There was only so much you could rationalize before it got old. Tysone didn't want to be a typical main character surrounded by the drama of existence itself. That'd just ruin the flow.
He had other worries—like a looming figure that was the zombie apocalypse and making something out of a life that was full of disappointment and poverty.
One damn month had gone by.
Tysone had slimmed down considerably compared to his previous self. A lot of flab had disappeared, and although he looked far from the Adonis figure he envisioned himself to be in the future, it was still a good start. He was healthy—and wasn’t that all it mattered?
His Japanese was coming along nicely; in fact, Saya had been surprised many times. He was still far from proficiency, though. Oh, but it was fun. It was not the language itself that made him grin from ear to ear, oh nuh-uh, it was the surprised reactions from the locals when they heard a 6 '7 black guy speak Japanese.
Apparently, being bilingual was a white people thing, so everyone would comically lose their shit when it was a dark-skinned guy that broke the stereotype.
As for his job at the construction site, it was going smoothly. He had just got his first paycheck. Maybe it was because it was an anime world, or maybe it was that Japan was in the middle of an economic boom, but his salary was generous, enough for him to save up for his projects and have enough to live like a normal human being.
As for Mai, he had seen her a few times, which was probably a whole lot more than many people at her school did. Unironically. He couldn’t tell whether her ‘problem’ had gotten better or worse. It seemed to have gotten into a stalemate of sorts—her words.
Not that Tysone knew the ins and outs of it. Just because he watched the anime didn’t mean he remembered every single detail. For all he knew—with this being a different world with different characters—Mai’s syndrome might have been altered slightly.
If that was the case, then Tysone’s knowledge was like a key to a lock that didn’t exist. It might seem like it’d work at first, but once turned, it’d get stuck. ‘We still have time.’
“Why don’t you go back to your acting? I know you’ve taken a break for personal reasons, but at least it’d increase your visibility. It’d be hard to forget you if your face is plastered on every billboard.” Tysone said over a mug of coffee. “Facing the very same thing you’re escaping from could be a step in the right direction.”
“......”
Mai merely glanced at the steam billowing out of her own mug.
“I don’t know…” She smiled. A wry one. She had a melancholy beauty in that moment. “I don’t hate acting. I like it, actually. But…” She trailed off.
“I know.” Tysone took a sip. “Lack of a private life. Pressure. Expectations. It's all stuff that slowly eats you up inside, or breaks you in half, making you wish you never chose this life. At the very beginning, the allure must have been incredible and overwhelming. The passion. The fun. But you started out so young. Acting must feel like a prison sometimes. All eyes on you. Your worth is based on how many awards you can accumulate. A constant treadmill of success. As soon as you stumble or hesitate, people will run over your corpse without a second glance."
She was about to reply when he tapped his finger on her hand, making her blink in surprise. He continued in that deep rumbling voice of his. "But hey, think about all the good things."
"What good things?"
"I could become an actor as well, who knows?" He shrugged, offering a tiny smile. "I don’t know a whole lot about acting, but how hard can it even be?” She pouted at that, not liking how he was undermining her job. “We could be the male and female lead respectively. You the fair beauty; me the villain, continuously trying to sabotage you on your way to a happy ending.”
"Sabotaging doesn't sound very villainous... It seems more like you're doing me a favor at that point."
"Eh, screw it. We could be friends instead. Imagine you're some amnesiac princess from afar who gets her memories back with a kiss from me."
She snorted. Then, a chuckle escaped those glossy, pretty pink lips. The tension drained out of the atmosphere like water swirling down the drain. "That's silly... And also a popular trope. What makes you think people would enjoy it? What's so special about an amnesiac princess and the first prince she meets?"
"It has nothing to do with specialness." Tysone answered. "It's corny and predictable as hell. But people will always flock to something they enjoy regardless if it is good or not."
“Well…” She pursed her lips. “I can’t really see you as an actor.” Tysone was about to open his mouth, but she beat him to it. “And it’s not because you’re black!”
He chuckled, tipping his mug at her, as if to congratulate her quick-wittedness. “I can’t see you as an actress either, but here you are, suffering from success.” He lifted his mug to take a sip, only to realize it was already empty. He closed his eyes. “Besides, I’d be in it solely for the money.”
“You’re very materialistic.” Mai rolled her eyes.
“I’m not materialistic. I’m a realist, Mai." Tysone explained, his tone flat. "And this isn't a corny attempt to show you how cool and cynical I am. It's basic survival. Money opens doors. It grants you freedom and security. Maybe you haven't been there before, not like I did anyway. This is merely a byproduct of a frugal life. Poverty. Pointed fingers. A brother who went down the deep end. Without money, you live your life caged like a rat—one that's desperate and frantic, latching on every opportunity. But those opportunities are so goddamn slippery."
It was amazing how this strange girl would listen to him so attentively. Maybe it was because she was a bit starved for attention now that she experienced solitude. She looked deeply into his eyes. "Is this why you're helping me, Tysone? Because I have money?"
"You're too cute if you believe that." Tysone said smoothly. “Why would I toil and sweat at the construction site every damn day for 8 to 9 hours straight if that was the case?”
“I-Is that so…?”
“Nah, I’m lying. I want all of your money, Mai.”
Mai blinked, staring at him with wide eyes, her mug frozen halfway to her lips. There was a pause, and then Tysone leaned back, flashing a tiny smile. "Yeah, I’ve got a master plan, you see. I’m gonna build myself a throne out of yen bills and drink matcha lattes made with liquid gold. Real talk, though, that sounds exhausting as shit. I’ll probably settle for some decent sushi and a heated toilet seat."
She snorted, trying to stifle a laugh. "A heated toilet seat?"
Tysone nodded solemnly. "Oh, absolutely. You haven’t lived until you’ve experienced the warm embrace of a toilet seat in winter. It's like a hug for your soul... from underneath."
Mai giggled, setting her mug down before she spilled it. "You’re ridiculous."
“As ridiculous as your claims that I’m the type of person to approach others merely for the benefits they offer. You think I approach girls solely for their money? Hell no. Who do you think I am? One of your stuttering childhood friends who are so painfully awkward when in front of pretty girls that they cannot function normally without a speech therapist, some food to eat and 12 episodes of romcom shenanigans before you anticlimactically kiss them under the fireworks?"
Mai blushed, coughing lightly into her fist as she suddenly looked away.
"I approach girls only if I think they're intriguing, Mai. Intellectually, spiritually, emotionally. Only if they're genuine, smart and sincere. Kind. Sweet. Demure... or if they have enormous jugs." Tysone waved a hand, as if to dismiss his previous speech. "But that's the only exception."
"I knew it!" Mai snapped. "You're a pervert!"
...
“With that being said…” Tysone glanced at a pouting, irate Mai. “I have a favor to ask of you, Mai.”
She wanted to stay mad at him, but ended up sighing, uncrossing her arms, and settling for a mild glare. “What favor?”
“Well… it would be nice if you could recommend some music publishers slash producers to me. I’d like to sell some of the lyrics that I’ve written.”
“You… what?”
Mai’s eyes widened as she stopped dead in her tracks.
Tysone’s eyes crinkled in amusement.
Mai immediately followed up. “And it’s not because you’re black, you doofus!”
