im so sorry i couldnt help but notice yuuri had 6 fingers
My hands feel like lead as I sat on the rough concrete ground outside Manila Airport. One hand clutching a fork with a celestial substance known as spaghetti, the other hand held my phone as the gentle, generous Philippine sun offered its rays to my dry skin. For a moment, my mind goes blank and created an unintelligible thought;
“God, I just…love the sun’s rays on me.”
My thoughts skipped mindlessly as I recall the chaotic events of the last few hours. I had boarded a plane, with or without a glass of champagne in my underaged hands is irrelevant. The mild chill to the air had bit my skin as I strolled through the airport gates, whisked away to the world of overly friendly flight attendants and mediocre but rather nice airplane meals. It was a whirlwind of chaos; at some point I had sat on the wrong assigned seat and chatted away a good eight minutes to travelling Italian dude with lovely mid-length hair whose name I did not catch but is destined to be somewhere along the lines of Carlos, no racism intended. He had told me within the matter of only a few minutes that I was like a niece to him, which somewhat touched my cold-stoned heart. It was hardened again as I realised that I was, in fact, on the wrong seat. I tell our Carlos goodbye and pray he finds a babe in London where he is travelling to and we one day meet again for me to be a bridesmaid in his wedding. I steadily moved to my assigned seat and cry about Carlos for the next three hours as I listen to sad anime soundtracks.
My eyes suddenly avert themselves finally to the phone screen and as I chewed away the celestial substance, my heart sank as lowly as Jack Dawson as I read the word: “im so sorry i couldnt help but notice yuuri had 6 fingers”.
I take a sharp breath, re-reading the words over and over, re-reading the words in Morgan Freeman’s voice and then to Adam Sandler and at some point, Lance McClain. I shut my eyes closed and my heart began to race faster than a Hennessey Venom GT (270 mph). I gulped, whispering to myself in a ritualistic manner that it was okay, that I was at least spared from an ‘lol’.
I couldn’t quite breath properly, it was only then that I was subjected to staggering flashbacks of the night before; with only four hours sleep in a mediocre holiday inn conveniently next to Melbourne Airport, I had bloodshot eyes as I stared at the computer screen with two infamous gays, my hands yet again quivering as my mind slowly engulfs to the dark void of ‘I don’t have a girlfriend fuck this shit’. I had ignored organising my baggage in favour of the activity and had Usan Bolted my way to the hotel lounge where ‘Jerry’ had given the complimentary one hour wifi for me to upload the piece.
I sat in the lounge, unashamedly wearing shorts with unshaved legs and wearing my mother’s shoes because I had to restrain myself from a pained Simba cry in the disappearance of my flip-flops. An aged duo of a white man and a black man discuss the future of the Apple company and eventually the economy to my left as I upload the piece, I don’t take any true interest but it’s hard to miss “Fuck off, Henry. I bet two meat pies you’re wrong.”.
“Ice, let’s go.” my brother nearly exclaims and I’m whipped back into reality.
I wonder if through it all, I can just say I’m sorry to the anon. But sometimes, we stumble into holes in life’s deepest journeys. Someday I will be a Sokka and someday I will be a Zuko, all in all as I stay in the height of Toph. It’s fascinating to say that I’m so shook by one message that could mean all kinds of things. Possibilities, really. If Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson could be with me in this moment, he would tell me that everything happens for a reason, be it in art or in life. He would tell me to life my dreams just as I live in the belief that he is, in fact, the Tooth Fairy. He would tell me Carlos, in all 15 minutes he was in my life, was a blessing and that two aged men debating whether Apple is going downhill or not is also blessing and that we should appreciate flight attendants who have to force their smiles in a day-to-day basis. And that maybe Yuuri accidentally having six fingers in my drawing was also a sort of fate, a Jerry, a Henry and a Carlos. A kind of destiny that we all face in our lives and hope we know what to do it when it plunges us to the ground.
So I gently placed my fork down the ground, eyes watering ever so slightly, deep breaths completed, my thoughts clear and my path in life ahead of me as I slowly began to type my reply to my anon;
‘lol more for victor then uwu’