Silver's Revenge

The After-Effect

A humourless smirk stretches on my pretty face. Looking at Samuel Farvale, many of our childhood memories come to my mind.

(#flashback#) 

I stifle a giggle as I look through the small gap in the closet, and watch Sams trying to find me. He has a small soft smile on his face. He looks like a big guy with big people's mind. He looks like my cousin. 

He moves to the corner of the closet, peeking behind it as if I could hide there. He ever so slowly moves to the closet doors smiling like the bad guy, like he knows I'm here. He moves his hands to the handles of the closet doors, but I'm prepared.

" AaaahhhHhHHHHhhh" I roar, leaping at him with my small arms stretched forward. 

His eyes widen and he catches me, trying to maintain his balance but we both fall hitting the ground.

"Oomph" Typical Sams's Reaction.

"Hey bud, you found me. Great, now it's my turn." I say dully, in my still babyish voice.

"Not my fault your laugh disturbs the neighbours." He smirks, putting his hands on my waist.

I smack him on his chest playfully.

I'm 9. and he's 10. We're best friends, but most of the time people confuse us with lovebirds. So, instead of correcting them, we enjoy putting them in delusions. For being 9 and 10, we're quite mature.

"What?" He asks innocently.

" At least I don't go around staring at boys all the time." At that, his cheeks redden.

"I don't stare at girls." It was my turn to smirk at him, as he turns his head away from me. And by the way, I'm still laying on him.

"Awwww, is my boy actually blushing when his girl catches him staring at her friends?"

I grab his face with my tiny fingers and make him look at me. He smiles and starts to make another comment but seeing my serious face, he stops.

"Listen here, Samuel Farvale. You are the best friend I could ever ask for. I love you and I know you love me too. And if you dare throw me away because of some cliche girlfriend, I swear to the Physics of my life, you'll regret it. Promise me. We'll be best friends till our last breaths, okay? Pinky promise?"

I hold out my Pinky finger and give him a look that says, 'if you break your promise I'll break your neck and we'll be even'.

"I promise. We'll be best friends." He wraps his pinky finger around mine and we stare at each other, Smiling small smiles. Until he winks. Destroying the moment.

(#End of flashback#)

I shake my head at the broken promise, struggling to keep my tears at the bay.

I turn around and walk away from him, leaving the cafeteria. As I pass my newly found pack, I motion for them to call me later. For now, I need some space.

Our meetings are not going to be a matter for me. I will not feel any remorse.

####

After all my classes are finished, I walk to my lockers to collect my belongings.

I haven't seen Samuel Farvale since that incident.

Opening my locker doors, I take out a paper and a pencil and write: 

'You're going to regret everything. I swear to the physics of my life.–S'

I write in a large font and fold the paper before tucking it in my pocket.

I shut my locker door after my bag pack is secured on my left shoulder–I'm left-handed.

I make my way to Samuel Farvale's locker, which isn't much far, take out the paper, unfold it and slide it into his locker.

I mentally pat myself on the back as I reach the front gates of the school. I turn left from there which leads to the parking lots.

I spot my Yamaha YZF-R6 and hop on it. You might wonder where did I get the money. 

Let me tell you something. Every student is unique in some ways. I have two awesome features. I'm a fashion designer and hacker. Since I can't hack publicly, for I will be on a spotlight, I designed dresses and offered them to multiple artists. Long story short, I got hired to Ms Fleurie, who is an exceptionally good designer and pays me a good amount of money for every suit.

But my hacking skills serve differently.

I pass my old home and park at my garage, sighing to myself. I've got a lot of work to do. I look at my wristwatch, then at my house (A/N: The artist bought her a home near hers. Ms Fleurie is kinda well-known and wealthy). It's 3:24. I have an appointment with Ms Fleurie at seven. A meeting with my friends at five. I have to check up on Matt at 4 sharp.

I enter with a huge sigh and drop my bag at a corner. kicking my shoes aside, I step up the stairs to my bedroom. I have a small attached bathroom in the far left corner. I take out a soft, easy outfit, and step into the bathroom to shower.

I turn on the faucet and am immediately welcomed by cold water–I like cold water. I pick up the green apple and lemon-scented shampoo and rub on my scalp, softly and slowly.  

By the time I'm out of the shower, it's already 4. I wonder why was I that late. Perhaps tired? I turn to the closet, the only fancy thing at my home and open it. I'm nothing near rich. But being with Ms Fleurie has helped a lot. I have tons of dresses designed by great designers, as Ms Fleurie takes me to many formal balls and parties and gets the dresses for me herself.

Saying that I'm thankful is an understatement.

I pick out a nice outfit for going to the cafe and set it aside. I put on my flip flops and walk to the kitchen to grab some food.

No cheese. No pasta. No sugar. No meat. No eggs. I guess I have to take a trip to the grocery stores too. As for my eating material, I found some milk in the fridge and some cereals in the cabinets. I mix them and eat the gross-looking food, while also keeping the track of time. 

I take out my phone and scroll through my contact lists. Matt. I press the name which I've come to hate and wait for him to pick.

"Hello?" a gruff voice said as if he hasn't slept in a decade–Though he sleeps all the time.

"Matthew," I reply in a formal greeting.

"About a while apart and you start calling me Matthew?" (A/N: Rhysand, anyone?) I could hear the mock reeking through his voice.

"Who have you been bothering beside me?" Straight to the point. My method.

"Ah... so you've heard," rather seen," Sam says he doesn't know where you are?"

I shift slightly on the chair. Of course, he doesn't know. But why has he been in contact with him? What's going on among them.

" Why are you two in contact, Matt?" I sigh, boredom creeping its ways in my veins. It's been a while Matt called to bother me. I assume he's been dealing with the other Farvale.

A sigh from the other end. "He's having... Problems. He's not–He's not how you think he is. He–You don't get it–"

"I get it." Red flashed before me and the struggle to keep it down was hard.

" You do?" Childish hope.

"Yes, He's a betraying junk piece of s**t who is abnormally self-absorbed and the shittiest s**t-face in my whole life." I hung on the phone, hands gripping it hard. My face contorts in rage.

Always defending him. Everyone. It's like no one saw what he did to me. No one agreed with me. I scoff thinking of others. None of them–Not one of them told me that I'm right. That it happens. That not always things go as planned. That it's okay to feel like this. Demolished. Scandalized. Wretched. Devastated. 

I was close to tears when I snapped out of it. Not now. Not when I have many things ahead. 

Call me a control freak.

####

1401 words

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 Forgiving is the best revenge. But sometimes, pure torture is enough.  – Silver Farvale