“Hey, it’s okay, ya know? Don’t worry, we’ll get through this,” the redhead says, smiling. He sits on the floor, nearby, leaning against a wall.
“That’s because you’re too much of a pessimist. Someone has to balance you out.”
“I’m not a pessimist. I’m a realist. And you, you’re nothing but a dreamer, too idealistic.” The blond sighs. “I really don’t see why though. I mean, look at us, look at this. Come on, face the facts. Everything’s a mess. We lost. We failed. We’re nothing.”
“I-”
“Honestly, look. Don’t be blind. Open your eyes. Stop dreaming and open your eyes to this nightmare that we’re living,” the blond practically growls. He’s angry though it’s clearly not directed at the redhead.
The redhead sighs, biting his lip, frowning somewhat. “What do you want me to say?” He screwed his eyes shut. “I- I don’t want to dwell on it,” he says, as if ignoring it and not talking about it will make their problems go away and will make everything better.
The blond grits his teeth, frustrated. “We have to do something. If we don’t-” He groans, dejected. “I seriously can’t take this anymore. Whoever said money can’t buy happiness clearly doesn’t know what he or she is talking about. That or they have more than enough to last them several lifetimes and then some.” He glares at the ceiling, eyes stinging.
“Ya know, I’d say that’s meant to be all philosophical and-” the redhead began to say before he was abruptly interrupted.
“Pfft, who needs philosophy, huh? What good does that do us? What we need is money. Come on, look at us. How are we supposed to live without it? How is anyone supposed to live without it? I could really use some,” the blond begins, but cuts himself off, screwing his eyes shut. He lifts up a hand to swipe at his eyes and his face. “It’s really hot, isn’t it?” he says in an odd tone of voice.
The redhead looks away, his hair falling across his face and hiding his eyes. “Yes,” he says in a small voice. He swipes at his face too. “Very much so.”
“You know, sometimes, I just can’t help but wonder why we’re doing this,” the blond says after a brief moment of silence.
The redhead looks surprised at that. “What? What do you mean?” He sounds rather panicked now as he says, “But I thought we both believed in this. I thought we’re trying our best and I know you keep saying that I’m too positive, but I really think that we can do this, that we-”
“That’s not what I meant. I believe in this too,” the blond stated with much conviction as he indicated the papers all over them. “But, sometimes, I just want to give up, and, well, what I really meant was, why do we struggle so much anyway? We do everything we can, but for what? What have we got to show for our efforts? Nothing, that’s what. And after so many times of trying and trying, you can’t help but wonder what all this is for. In the end, will any of this even matter? After all, everything ends anyway, right, so what’s the point?”
There was no response as the redhead merely looked sad and thoughtful because, really, what was there to say to that?
*Notes:
- Image with added text was modified by Freya Yuki (CC:BY-SA) based on the image by CoDLia (CC:BY-SA) from deviantArt
- The red-haired melancholy, depressed and sad-looking figure in the image is meant to represent the redhead character in the short story
- YouTube video features a song entitled “Hold On” by Good Charlotte
