MANGOS & EGOS.

p r o l o g u e . R O O T E D

"Hi, Micah here— ugh fuck." Bleep. "This is my project called, wait no. I'm not going to start it off that way because I sound f*****g stupid." Bleep. "My name is Micah and this is my film project for class—"

The Canon EOS Rebel T4i adjusted nicely on the tripod next to the indoor bamboo plant. Even though the background tidied nicely, the expensive equipment kept getting out of focus. Terrible autofocus as she manually man-handled it. The camera captured the girl's brimmed glasses that fit over her staid irises shaded smooth espresso or dark coffee beans but that would be too common to talk about because hers were a rare brown. Not typical or exotic but one-of-a-kind. They melted warm hearts with sarcasm and a slick tongue. As the sunlight poured a pool of honeyed rays over the bedroom floor, some highlighted her skin a shade of shimmer copper pennies for a water fountain of Youth. Her mouth divided in two, naturally plump pink-brown, curved in a widened cupid's bow. The hair stresses her adopted mother refuses to touch was voluminous and frizzy as it rippled out of the tight hairband on top of her head.

The interior of the room didn't help since her room was a tangerine brick red. The chamber reminded visitors of an organic, autumn cheap shop. Different garden plants she couldn't recall the name of took up space and immersed in its pot of soil around the room. Artistic-oriented, Japanese paintings positioned on the walls and grotesque plastic buddha heads and teachings she never believed in, sat on her shelves to guard her against bad energy and guide her with human peace and happiness.

Bleep. "Take four." She displayed the movie-like clapboard to the screen and let the slim wooden board collapse.

Micah sat in the rotating chair staring into the black-eyed hole of the camera for two minutes in straight silence. Bleep. Micah twirled in the rolling chair. Bleep. "f**k introductions. f**k this film project and f**k you to Mr. Robsche." Her finger caught in her mouth at her outburst and ground down on the edge of her fingernail.

"I shouldn't probably say that. Or, I could just bleep it out."

Against that idea, Micah clicked back into the storage and erased the whole thing. Sitting back in the office chair, the seat twirled her around once as she slowed down to settle back into a storage of creativity that was quite empty. For a couple of minutes, Micah stared at the camera boredly, waiting for that lightbulb to lighten above her vacant brain. And you know what Micah got out of that?

Wasted time and nothing.

She packed back all the equipment into her worn bookbag and headed to the station. Strangers wheezed past her going through the daily struggles of life. She quickly paced down the ugly staircase and slid her paid fare for the day and slide through the venues. The next ride for the subway came in six minutes and she hopped on while everyone else minded their own business.

A vacant spot welcomed her and an older guy's headphones blasted out of his ears to be a stereo for the world to hear.

But, someone else was there too.

Little did they know both boy and girl have met previously before. As his penny board took up the seat next to him with his legs apart, he inclined back carefree across from her comfortably in the stiff seat.

Micah clasped her hand around the metal pole as both invested their attention to technology.

Their mouths remained mute throughout the destination and eyes glued to their phones. It was like this until the subway trip came to a halt and just like how the universe was made, their cosmos put splinters into their globes as dust particles circulated into space creating constellations of stars and left nothing.

No explanation.

Nothing.

Except for the ones who question, the observers,

and the stargazers.