In His Room
1983 Words
“And don't worry. I'll help you when you need it too,” she says.
“I don't need any help. I can handle myself.”
“That's another thing. Don't go fanning off people from your life. Personal connections are important to find a girl for you but also help you with all sorts of things.”
That's true. My friends are helping me in getting a girlfriend because they know so many people in school. And now I know why it is easy for them to get a new girlfriend every time! That's the hack!
But... it's too late for me. My social skills are at the bottom. I can't even join a group conversation without saying anything awkward and not worth any attention. I tried to be social for once and got shot down.
“I hate it... because-”
“Makes you uncomfortable? You're worried that someone will call you out for being awkward? Well, f*ck their *ss!”
“Hey, we're in the street.”
“Just say what you want to say. Trust me when I say, it will only be a matter of time until they'll find your awkwardness something to be admired of. And also, you'll eventually get used to them and be influenced by their behaviors. When that happens, you're not gonna be awkward anymore. That's how socialization works, you sourpuss.”
She's right but “I'm not a sourpuss.”
“Then why are you looking like a grumpy Garfield right now?”
I cover my face with my hand and walk a little faster to leave her behind. “Let's just get this over with,” I mutter.
Finally, she decides to walk silently beside me. The road is at our left. I keep a distance and put myself farther from the road than her so she is at my left. This is to say, “She's not my girlfriend” without saying it.
“And let me remind you about something,” she says. “Don't ever walk on the sidewalk with the girl nearer the road like what you're doing now.”
“You're not a girl.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “You have to practice it, dude, so you could do it without even thinking. Come on, pretend I'm Elizabeth, right now.”
“Fine,” I complain. We switch places.
“Easy, isn't it?”
I went silent for a moment then I remember what she said. “I also don't want to get influenced by others' behavior. My friends are a select few who can manage their behaviors.”
“You're so stubborn, aren't you? Well, you'll somehow understand how to forgive people for what they lack. Not everyone can make you like them at one glance but if you give them a chance, you'll find out their reason. People's behavior is influenced by something beneath the surface, bro. Once you find out what it is and understand how it influences their behavior, you can never get angry with them.” Her face is solemn when she finally says, “You'll just say, ‘They just had a rough life’.”
That's deep.
She continues, “I also understand why you're acting this way. That's why I can't be angry with you. Anime was a thing for the nerds like you. Only this time around that it has become mainstream so you made a friend or two.”
“Do you still watch anime?”
“No, not anymore.”
“Why?” I ask. She scratches her head, squints her eyes, and smiles awkwardly. “When did you stop?” I ask instead.
“A year after we moved to Korea. Most of the people there are on to Pop Culture. And as you know, anime was not that popular there. So, I needed to watch it less to fit in.”
“So you moved to Korea.” Demn, she's been everywhere.
“Yeah, but after a year, we moved back to Japan. And there, we stayed permanently. But I lost liking for anime even though it's very popular there.” She looks at me and her solemn face turns into a smile. “You stayed strong with it, I'm envious.”
“Not really. I'm watching lesser than how I used to. Most of them are so cliche. I miss the time when Death Note aired. The classics are the best.”
“Yeah, good times.”
Finally, we're in front of the building of my dorm. It's unlike other dorms that prohibit other s*xes aside from the specific one they are taking in. It's not even an official dorm. It's more of a residential building of some sort.
“We're here,” I tell her as we enter the building.
She looks around and says, “Oh...”
We go straight for the elevator because my room is on the fifth floor. I'm uncomfortable being seen by other people because they might misunderstand. Meanwhile, she's not caring at all and just scrolling down her phone. The elevator stops on the fifth floor, the doors open, and we exit. I feel relieved that my room is just a few steps away. It is to the right when exiting the elevator. We walk that way until I stop at my front door, with the number 59 on it.
I open it with my key but I have to press against the keyhole to unlock it. It's broken so... yeah. When I open it, she barges in before I could enter. My neighbors saw her entering my room and I enter as soon as I can to get out of their sight.
Then she goes, “Wow, I'm surprised to see that your room is tidy and not full of h*ntai posters.”
“What?!! I would never! I do like posters but not those!”
“Hmm...,” she sighs in delight. “So, you kept them all.”
She walks to the table right next to my bed where I put the action figures which she gave me a long time ago. One thing that caught her attention is the limited edition model of Stike Freedom Gundam. She touches it and I just watch her from behind. I want to see her face if she's smiling but I can't.
“I did,” I answer after a minute. “They're... limited editions... after all.”
But deep inside, I want to say that I miss her company. I felt like she was the truest friend I knew. I wonder if she considers me that too.
She turns to look at me and says, “Okay, now that we're here, I'm gonna make you a man.”
“What?!!” I jolt.
She walks to me and I slowly walk back. “I gonna get you laid.” What the- My knees hit my bed so I sit and she stands, looking down at me.
Is this it? Am I gonna get laid now? The fateful day has come that I could finally be immune to virgin jokes. I have long wished for this, wondering how good it will feel. She might be a tomboy but she has a body of a girl. I won't ask for more. Now is the time for-
“You're gonna be my employee,” she says.
“Excuse me, what?”
“I started a cafe before I moved here. It's called, ‘Cafe Machoiato’.”—That sounds terrible. “I don't hire wimps, so you'll have to work out to get in.”
So that's what it is. My imagination went skyrocketing for a moment. Sh*t.
“Work out?” I ask. “As in, getting buffed up?”
“Not necessarily but you need to stop looking like a walking chopstick.”
“I don't remember applying for... whatever you call this cafe of yours.”
She pulls the chair from my desk and sits on it, facing me. “We agreed that I'm going to help you get a ‘hot girlfriend’, didn't I? I didn't say that I'll give you a ‘girlfriend’—that would be easy. You can just grab the ones you can reach.”
“Hey, you sound like a jerk.”
She didn't heed my warning but just continues, “In every situation, the first thing that a girl sees in you is your looks. It's not magical like when you first see that person, you can now see their soul for who they truly are. No, it doesn't work like that. You have to be presentable at least but in your case, you have to be hot.”
“Hot? Why go that far?” I question.
“Before courting a ‘hot girl’, you must be approachable and likable to catch their interests. You must match her temperature. You need to show that you can take care of yourself. That makes you capable of taking care of others. In instinct, a woman likes to be dependent on her man. Even if that woman is an achiever, there's still a trace of that instinct. Anyways, I told you that almost anyone can like anyone if they know why they are acting that way, didn't I? Your personality is not that rotten but good enough and just fine—really.”
“You couldn't have said it nicer,” I remark sarcastically.
“My point is that you need to make yourself approachable to give yourself a chance to show the girl that you're a good person. Indeed, looks don't matter but it doesn't work well with first impressions. You need to catch her interest right at her first glance so she'll be open to know you.”
“Then how do we do that? My face is ugly and has been called out by girls in class in the past.”
“Don't you know that your face changes when working out?”
“What? Really? Or you're just making this up.”
“Just look at Neville Longbottom in Harry Potter.”
She pulls out her phone, searches on the web, and shows it to me. I watched HP and I'm aware of his looks. He looks like a full-on nerd (like me) as I remember. Then... this picture. Are they only one person? At the left is the Neville I know and at the tight is the Neville of now. Wow, he looks dashing.
“See?” she asks. “Now, tell me what changed in him?”
“His body and... shape of his head—they changed.”
“Exactly. He didn't have any plastic surgery but only straightened his teeth and worked out his body. His jawline became pronounced in the process—which made him more attractive as he is now. That's the point I'm trying to tell you. I don't guarantee that it will make you look less like a loser but we won't know unless you try.”
She doesn't know how to blunt what she's saying...
“Improving how I look and all,” I say. “what if it's all for nothing?”
“We don't know. I'm just improving your chances. The rest is up to you.”
I guess it would be best if I do what she said instead of lounging all day, playing games, and pathetically watching por- uh... not-safe-for-work media. I feel uncomfortable suddenly switching my routine but this might be good for me. Exercising will make me healthier and I know that my current routine is undeniably bad.
“Okay,” I answer and feel uneasy.
“Your workout will start tomorrow at my place. The building I'm staying in has a gym. Now, let me see your body.”
- Writer
