Theory Of The Constant Melody

CHAPTER 5

BUILDING MY OWN WORLD EVER COMES in my imagination as I choreographed a single action, following the other one when whisking and measuring to meet and satisfy the taste I want for my cupcakes. I am not a professional baker, not at all. But as much as possible, I am matching each ingredient to one another. It was either that or like of enjoyment frosting with a sweet memory of today.

Standing by the pan rack, my smile worked its way across my face and I couldn’t help but bow my head down.

“I am counting the smile on your face. I wonder, Cyan, who’s the lucky girl,” Mitch, my 55-year old boss, noticed while taking out a tray of vanilla cupcakes in the oven.

We have just finished preparing twenty-five boxes of assorted cupcakes for a birthday party.

I have been working in this small cupcake and pastry shop found on Foothill Road to live on my salary for six months. As a working student, fees can only be more daunting while balancing time for studies at university. Undoubtedly, this provides me a certain amount of money which can be used to allocate for rental. For that reason, I value every cents I have earned.

What’s more beautiful about this job as a baker, the salary is simply amazing that’s why I’m beavering away. By no means, I blow my homework off at home. Time management will really help.

Additionally, the ambiance is exquisitely classical; the enclosure is made from aesthetical European glass. Moreover, people can occupy the neo-elliptical tables and metallic orbital chairs for their as favor as anyone’s preference.

After doing the same job for ten months as an online seller of phones, I decided to strike out to earn more money. I’ve had several jobs for the previous years for my stay here.

“Aren’t you?” I replied, chuckling while taking off my neoprene gloves. Afterwards, I stripped down to my hair net and stacked up the boxes. “You seemed observing me all the while.”

She sniggered and placed the tray on the acrylic surface table. “Avoiding my question? C’mon, there’s nothing wrong with it. I might give you some free time to go out with your lady,” she rejoiced.

“How to get rid of that kind of question, by the way? It actually sucks,” I ridiculed and sneaked a glance at her. 

If only I could tell her that it must be ‘he’ the reason why I feel cloud nine these past hours, then I wouldn’t be as good as a prison at hiding.

My full-day duty is on the weekends, while my three-hour duty is on the weekdays—four to seven.

“Take a box of cupcakes in the fridge. Free of charge! It’ll definitely make your lady happy.” She treaded toward me and patted on my back. “Hope all things will turn out fine!”

“Thank you for not letting me down, Mitch. You’re great.”

She plastered a bright smile on her face and spoke, “You’re welcome.”

I SWANNED IN THE ROOM, watching Acherous plucking each string to tune up his guitar.

I get off every Saturdays, that being with Acherous before three would be such a nice idea.

“Acherous, before anything else, have you already memorized the chords of ‘Quit Playing Games With My Heart’? It is something to be more actual and emotional since it was sung by the most respected band in the world,” I uttered and ambled barefoot to the fridge.

Our room is pretty ordinary, having just a kitchen, sofa and couch, two beds, a circular dining table, television, air conditioner and the cupboards and cabinets. What’s giving me less stress is the wall is painted light green and the window frame is offering the aesthetic, sand color. Whenever we enter, there’s a navy blue rug made of wool where we can put our shoes on. There’s none of the decoration that seems the room look warmer.

I brought out the cupcakes that I believed Acherous hasn’t seen yet. Concurrently, he was napping when I got home an hour ago.

“Kind of—wow!” Without further ado, he stood up and hurriedly ran toward me upon seeing a baby blue box of cupcake with my hands.

He walked with a bounce in steps like he couldn’t contain the excitement in his body so as to his adrenaline was coursing through his veins. He looked like a child wanting so much candies in sight.

“Oops—oops…” I mimicked to stop him by moving my left hand forward. “Bro, this is not for you.”

Disappointment clouded his feature as he jutted out his bottom lip and blinked a couple of times. Afterwards, he slouched and turned around. His impish glee that was once wired his body as plugging into the mains vanished instantly.

I sniggered openly and quickly punched him on the  arm. “Immature!” I jibed and walked past him before he could make his move.

He hissed and poked me in the rib. “Hey, will you give me now cupcakes?” he asked pleadingly.

I paused and turned around.

“All right! As expected. You can’t afford not to give me any,” he speculated and grinned.

“Bro, you wish. Just a portion,” I scoffed and crossed the room in only a few strides before heading to the couch. 

“I couldn’t believe in you, bro. I know you wouldn’t resist sharing with me more cupcakes,” he assumed and snickered. “Yielding to kindness, Cyan,” he added and followed the walk.

He knew me a lot. And he’s knowing me more often—deeper.

Thereafter, we sat next to each other and he suddenly bugged out, staring at the ten cupcakes after I removed the covering.

“Wow, hitting it off with these cupcakes. Looks delicious,” he complimented and licked his lips.

“Well, Sheila and I baked these.” I gave him a once-over and took the mocha flavored cupcake.

“May I have one, Cyan?”

“Asking like you’re not tempted. Just one?” I jeered and handed the box over to him.

“Just… one,” he replied uncertainty. “Apparently, this may be added some lusciousness if associated with soju, you think?” he suggested.

I threw my head back and the tips of my fingers steepling.  I returned my head to usual position and waggled my eyebrows while beaming. “I’m up for it.”

“Whoa!” he yelled and pumped right fist in the air. He went to the fridge quickly to get the soju we bought last week.

When he came back with two bottles of soju in both hands, he leveled off his seat and swirled the bottle around creating a whirlpool inside. Next, he smacked the bottom of the bottle and applied the webbed area between his middle and index finger to intensely jab the neck of the bottle. He twisted off the cap, splashing a little amount of soju.

We burst out laughing and slapped each other’s palm. He passed me a bottle which I took it at once.

“Since we will get drunk, I toyed over the idea of playing a game,” he proposed.

Making eye contact with him, my eyebrows drew and my lips pressed together. I ran my hands through my hair and rested my right arm against the backrest.

“Are you f*****g in?” he asked. A good-natured smile lit up his mood as I recalled what had three days ago we talked about. I had begun asking him how were things going with him—if he already moved on or savored the feeling of contentment.

 I couldn’t think of a time I’d ever been happier whenever joy rippled through him.

“What game is that, then? See to it that it won’t harm us. I know you so well,” I warned and looked out the window.

“Be in no doubt, bro,” he assured and gave me a smothered laugh.

“Are you sure? Because I’d rather like watching grass grow.” I nipped my soju so as to it lingered to wash down at the back of my throat its sweetness.

“You’re so—”

I snapped, “Okay. Fine.”

Later, he walked me through the means and policy of the game. It is called as Fact-or-Consequence. When it’s my turn to ask, he must be answering my question with the fact; otherwise, he’ll do the consequence given by the digital spinning wheel we have downloaded just by now. Many to mention consequences that have driven me to answering the questions without hesitation.

“Are you ready?” he asked after taking a quick gulp of his drink and bit a big portion of the cupcake. It makes no sense of his obsession with the food, even though he needs to maintain and stabilize his masculine body.

“Bro, no need to ask. I have no other option as if I could pull back from this game,” I answered and sat cross-legged.

He gave me a half-suppressed laugh and reached in his side pocket then drew out a coin. “You plump for either head or tail. Whatever shows when it lands will be the one to ask first.”

“Tail,” I answered and relaxed my fist against my jaw; elbow rested about the half of my knee.

“Got it.” He stared at me for a couple of seconds.

At this point, my heart pounded out of my chest, spine-tingling and I looked away due to his electrifying gaze at me.

I should’ve got used to his eyes. For goodness’ sake, we’re living under the same roof for months and I even saw his naked body—sturdy chest and buffy, defined abdomen.

I hemmed once before sighing. I eyed him and nodded. “Let’s start.”

Thereafter, he tossed the coin in the air and stretched his right palm to catch it.

We both glanced at the coin and he abruptly giggled then held his chin too high.

“Cocky. Get on,” I slurred, discovering it was ‘head’.

He positioned himself to face me directly and loosened up his collar. “First question: Describe me in one word.”

I straightaway hit him in the head and my forehead puckered.

“What?” he whined.

“Silly. You said, question. What you told me a while was imperative, in fact.”

He pursed his lips playfully. “Just describe me.”

“Bro, so gay,” I commented but my mind was way no more reprieve that I could have sinned for so many times because it’s intoxicating how I must behave in front of him. My heartbeat was getting louder as if someone could have possibly lived in my heart, he would surely say that there should be a band concert.

He snickered and raked his hair. “Okay, I surrender. Let me make my first question into: Do you have a present girlfriend?” Abruptly, seriousness was drawn into his face and he reclined his elbows against the armrest.

“Nothing at all,” I simply replied.

“In the past? I mean… have you had a girlfriend?” he next questioned with his feature was overtaken by bewilderment.

“My turn,” I emphasized. “How many girlfriends did you have already?”

“I had two.” He grabbed his bottle and swallowed down the soju. “Next, how many times have you jacked off in a week?”

My pupils dilated in surprise as I was caught off guard and confusedly looked him in the eye. “Bro, come off it,” I uttered unbelievably.   

“Well, you have been blown. But I am deadly serious.” He plastered a half smile on his face and chewed on his lips.

“Dusty doughnuts! All right, consequence,” I chose.

He burst into laughter and reached out his phone on the table. “So, I’ll spin the wheel.”

Once he pressed the spin button, I started to feel unease.

After several seconds, he grinned widely and held out a hand that’s why I looked at it only to find out that the peak came to an end at… ‘Lick a coated butter below one’s navel’.

“What the—cut that out!” I exclaimed. 

“Uh—oh. No way!”

I gaped at him. “I can’t.”

“Come on, Cyan. It’s worth the shot. No one’s judging you. It’s just between you… and me.”

“Since we don’t have a butter, let’s apply a peach jam instead.” He immediately stood up and pranced—there’s no other way to describe it—toward our small open-space kitchen. As he went back, he’s already carrying along with the bottle of jam and spoon.

“Bro, you’ve got to be kidding me,” I wished tremulously.

“Of course not.” He took his seat and shucked off his shirt.

“Bro, we’re both men,” I reasoned out.

“No malice, bro. Besides, it’s below the navel, not exactly on my d**k, Cyan,” he argued, chuckling, then stretched his arms. “Move a bit. I’m going to lay down,” he commanded.

“Dusty doughnuts! Acherous…” I shook my head beyond my belief.

He couldn’t wait for me to switch my position, as soon as he laid down I am between his legs, thereon.

All over again—I couldn’t actually count with my fingers how many times did my heart throb as rapid as this—I froze for a second or two and shrunk back.

Afterwards, he slued the cap of the jam and scooped a little amount and coated it at the surface below his navel. As much as possible, he prevented to spread the jam on the white garter of his underwear.

“Do the consequence,” he mumbled after doing all.

I tilted my head sideward, still viewing him. He was seducing me. He was so sexy. Was I being delirious again? I breathed in and out, releasing the tension in my heart.

Suddenly, his phone rang that made him hiss. He looked at the screen of it and his eyebrows arched with puzzlement. He answered it in the latter.

“What the f**k!” he swore without further seconds. He sat up then subconsciously fell his phone on the floor. He traveled his palms across his face.

“You looked upset. Did something happen?” I asked with empathy.

“My younger sister was rushed into the hospital. Currently, the doctors are drilling down through the detailed data to know her sick. Tentatively, it’s said to be severe that… scientists and medical technologists haven’t found yet a cure.”

I held my tongue and looked up to the ceiling. I returned to him and tapped his shoulder softly. I noticed how his tears welled up.

“Bro, I believe everything’s going to be fine. Put your trust in Almighty Lord. He can help you,” I soothed and advised him. “Don’t lose hope, not ever.”

He nodded. “Thanks, Cyan. You’re always here any minute when I needed someone.” He let out a sigh and ran his hands through his hair. “Excuse me. I’m going to clean off and up my body. I should leave. Maricris needs me.”