Just a Doll Face

Never Meant to Be

"Quinn," Trustin called out as Quinn moved to leave the council room after their meeting had ended. She turned around, wearing an annoyed smile, and Trustin couldn't help but chuckle, finding her cute. He knew Quinn was as dramatic as he was, and she acted annoyed around him on purpose.

He also enjoyed teasing her, because it gave him a few moments of her undivided attention. "Must you always be so defensive around me?" Trustin pouted, feigning innocence. Quinn sighed, shaking her head at his antics.

"Come on, man, spit it out!" she replied. She was getting late.

Trustin’s smile slightly wavered, aware of the hurdles he would have to overcome for their relationship to grow. He knew Quinn was guarded and did not believe in love, and she had a pretty good reason for it as well. She had recently gone through something, and Trustin had only found it by mistake.

His own hesitations were just as much to blame for the fact that they were still just friends — if even that.

Quinn rarely allowed people to get too close despite dealing with a lot of people on a regular basis. Trustin feared losing her. Three whole years of crushing on her; he was a pitiful soul.

If only he had the courage to face rejection, but alas! He was nowhere near ready to take that leap just yet.

"I wanted to ask if you’re really sure about all of this? It wouldn’t really matter if our department is not doing anything for the festival," he asked, a worried look crossing his face.

Quinn had too much on her plate already. Her own graduation exhibit, the upcoming festival, and the responsibility the faculty had placed on the student council to arrange the graduation exhibit as well. She was drowning in workload.

“I have you guys. I believe we will be able to do it together. You always help me a lot as well with this stuff, so I feel reassured.” Quinn smiled with certainty, and Trustin just sighed. His worry was going nowhere.

"Now, if you don't mind, I have to go fish hunting," Quinn stated, leaving the council room with Trustin watching her.

He scratched his head, wondering if he was imagining things or if the word "fishing" somehow sounded like trouble to him. He shrugged, shaking off the thought. After all, Quinn and trouble seemed to go hand in hand, so it was nothing new to marvel at.

...

"Mom— I— No— It's not like that. I really wanted to try cooking; I've been telling you this for years———— No! Dad had nothing to do with it. He didn't force me into this," Joshua spoke into his cellphone, trying to reason with his mother.

She sounded tired and worried, but it did nothing but tire Joshua out more and more. The more his parents fretted over his life and future, the more he felt pushed away from finding his own path.

In the end, there he was, with no vision of his own, just floating across the wide sea. He had stopped worrying about their expectations and had only agreed to attend culinary school after Professor Harrison pleaded with him to make something of himself— not for fun, but simply so he could eventually afford to feed himself.

"I know it was his idea to get you into the culinary arts. He wanted you to be the exact opposite of what I've always wanted. That's why he taught you how to bake a cupcake when you were only four. Who teaches their children those things at such a young age?" His mother's words were disheartening, but Joshua held back his sigh.

He didn't want to add to her burden. She was still struggling, and a lot of time had passed since it all fell apart.

"Mom, trust me. I enjoy cooking a lot, and besides, there's nothing else I want to do. So please understand that I'm in a better place and not wasting my life. You really should stop worrying about me and focus on your rehab. There may not be an 'us' anymore, but there are still people waiting for you." Joshua's words left his mother momentarily speechless.

He closed his eyes, feeling a pang in his heart at the silence. He had tried so hard to choose his words carefully, but something like that was bound to slip out because of her persistence.

"I understand. I'll keep that in mind. I was just— just a bit nervous today, I guess. I'm sorry," his mother finally responded.

Another wave of guilt washed over Joshua, but he suppressed it, exhaling a deep yet silent breath, determined not to burden his mother further than she already was.

“There's no need for you to say sorry, Mom. I know you've always wanted what's best for me," Joshua replied, his thoughts drifting to how his mother might feel when he expressed gratitude for her actions. Would it bring her some comfort, or would it only deepen her self-blame if he didn't sound convincing enough?

"And I hope you also find something that brings you happiness— something that ignites your inner spirit. I have to go now. I— I love you, Joshua," his mother said. Joshua simply hummed in response, waiting for the call to end before placing his cellphone back in his pocket.

He couldn't recall the last time he responded with an "I love you too" to his mother. Whenever she expressed those words, a memory from their past would flash in his mind, leaving him tongue-tied.

He glanced around the nearly empty corridor.

Everyone seemed to be moving somewhere.

Somewhere they wanted to be.

Joshua wasn't sure he had a destination at all.

He had spent so much time avoiding other people's expectations that he had never stopped to wonder what he expected from himself. Perhaps that was why the future felt so frightening. There was nothing waiting for him at the end of it—at least, nothing he could see.

And somehow, that emptiness frightened him more than failure ever could.

"Find something good for me? I guess I was never meant to be," he mused, a somber smile on his lips.