DAY 5  20/03-18

You know, maybe I should do a "thought of the day" in this particular letter. Just so you get to know what my first thought is during this morning.
Thought of the day: What the fuck is up with this world?
I just don't understand. Do you? Whoever is reading this, do you really know? I just think that nothing is predictable. You think you know what is about to happen but you really don't. The world just proves you wrong almost the entire time. It is like that.
If you think the world spins left, it will spin right. And the other way around.

° ° °

"Lance is coming over again", Shiro says casually and spreads butter on his bread awfully slowly. I tap my foot on the floor impatiently, before I can't wait anymore and stand up to take a new knife.

"I know", I mumble as I sit down with painstaking. "He couldn't stop saying it yesterday."

"You don't sound too happy." Shiro puts down his knife and looks up at me. "Are you still annoyed at him for the whole restaurant thing?"

"No, I'm just annoyed at him for being so full of himself."

You know, it was meant to just run smoothly yesterday. He complimented my eyes and I made the mistake in believing he meant it. But you know what, he succeeded in making me blush, and that's when he broke into a fit of laughter and pointed at my face, saying he won. He had made me blush. Whatever he could have said, he made me blush, and he found it funny.

"If he's full of something, it's the urge to see you", Shiro says and takes a painfully slow bite of his bread, maintaining eye contact with me. I try to shrug off his gaze on me but still feel it as I look down at my piece of bread. "You know Keith, not everything will go your way. People won't behave a certain way just because you want them to. Everyone is individuals, running freely. I'm sure Lance doesn't like some actions of yours, but that's just how the world works. Not everything goes in the way you want it to be."

"Why are you still calling Allura, then?" I ask him suddenly and Shiro almost drops his bread. Almost. "Why are you still calling her even if she won't answer? Why aren't you calling Matt instead? You pushed him away for someone you can't even get!"

Shiro grips his glass of milk and I fear he might break it with just his hand and I don't want to spend the rest of the morning taking out shards of glass from his hand.

"That happened just one time. I never meant to kiss him", he presses out through gritted teeth and his knuckles turns white because of the grip on the little object on the table.

"One time, two times, I don't care. All that I care about is the sense you seem to have lost. You liked to kiss Matt, admit it. You're just afraid to actually like him more than "your partner in astronomy".

"This conversation is over", Shiro warns lowly.

"Allura is off limits! She's with Lotor now. Whether you like it or not, they are going to get together..."

"This. Conversation. Is. Over." He doesn't speak loudly, and that's just the problem. The undertone in his voice makes his words hold a bigger meaning, and I shut my mouth closed, suddenly very interested in my piece of bread.

"Eat up, and Lance will arrive just after school ends."

He stands up, his sandwich half eaten, and he puts it directly into the fridge, without foil whatsoever, and leaves the kitchen.

° ° °

"He is being too gay right now. It's disturbing", Pidge sighs in the phone and I roll my eyes. "He can't stop talking about you."

I'm glad this conversation is on the phone or Pidge would have seen my obvious blush. "Did you call me just to complain about Lance being something he isn't?"

"Being gay, you mean? He totally is right now."

"I'm not!" I hear in the background. My blush has not disappeared yet.

"You are", Pidge fires back in a bored tone. I can't hear Hunk say anything about this yet, and the guilt is instantly washing over me like some kind of cold shower with too freezing water. He's still upset with the scenario in the cafeteria when I yelled at him. Of course he won't say anything now, if that involves me in it - is he even with them right now? I know Pidge will call nevertheless. She tends to forget things easily, or act like they never happened.

"Where's Hunk?" I can't help but to ask. I hope I'm not on the speaker.

There is a little pause on the other line, but it's still long enough. Too long. 

"He's here", Pidge says then.

Nothing more than that. It's silent. Silent enough to make the thoughts in my head much louder.

"Tell him I'm sorry", I say and hang up.

° ° °

Shiro has wandered around in the small apartment this whole day but it's only now it's completely quiet. He only checked up me once today but didn't say much than just are you feeling okay? And of course, he didn't expect anything else than a yes from me, so that's what I gave him. A simple yes and then he was out of my room again. But in fact, I am far from okay. He should now that. 

And I want to apologize, but it's just another thing doing it face to face than telling your friend to say it for you on the phone. I want to apologize to Hunk for serving him the reality so harshly. But I'm tired of everyone avoiding reality. You just have to accept it. I'm sick and I may die soon. And Allura likes Lotor, and not Shiro. And Shiro liked the kiss he shared with Matt. That's just how it is.

"Keith?" I look at Lance sitting in the chair in front of my desk again. He's giving me a questioning look. "What are you thinking about?"

I say nothing. Bemused, I stare at him. Sitting in my room. Again. I look back at the moment he stopped laughing at my surprised look yesterday, when he tried to have a conversation with me without having it being awkward, but I was angry at that point. I kept my sentences short and harsh. I wanted him out of my room and out of the apartment and even out of my life.

Instead, he's sitting here again. The same chair, leaning in closer to me, and the blankets around me makes me hot all over again.

"You may wonder why I wanted to visit you again?" he says and I don't have to nod to signalize I mean yes. "You know I said I would listen to you?"

Everyone wants to be heard. Of course I remember. Of course I remember the sparkle inside me when he said it. A sparkle of hope. I had a pair of ears to talk to and I wasted them. Later, at least. But now he's willing to listen again. I want him to listen. I want my anger to be heard by someone and I want some sort of understanding. But I know I can't get that. Nobody I know can understand what I'm going through.

"I'll still listen to you, Keith. Just talk to me. We may not know each other well, but I'll still listen. Gladly. Especially when you look to have a lot weighing your shoulders."

It's a tempting offer, really, but is it really wise to accept it? Now? Maybe I did a mistake in accepting it the first time. If I just stayed quiet Lance would maybe not even be here right now. Maybe he would give up on me easily, if he didn't know I'm sick.

There is a maybe in everything, no matter what you do, so it's best not to overthink things. But that's just the problem. I'm an overthinker. Every little thought grows like flowers unto me and soon all the petals will fall off and bare me to the world. Through the tangles of the roots, you can see my face.

"Not now. Maybe later, but not now", I finally say. Lance looks disappointed but he is quick to hide it.

"Is it about Hunk? Because he forgave you. He told me to tell you that he's not angry at you. He really isn't..."

"That's not it", I growl. But inside me I feel some kind of relief. Even if I shouldn't. Not yet. Hunk needs to tell me it himself and I need to see his face when he does it to see if he really means it. If it's something Hunk sucks at, it's lying. You can read everything on his face when he lies.

"What is it then?" He doesn't need to ask. I know that deep down, he knows what's wrong. My whole life, currently, is what's wrong. I don't know why he asks, because in his eyes there is a fear. Fear for me? Fear of the truth? But that fear speaks the truth. 

"You won't understand, Lance. Just... I don't want to talk about it." Because, this truth is a fear of mine.  

"I don't have to understand, Keith. You can just talk to me and I'll listen. Even that would do much good."

"Lance..." I try for a smile but it just feels rigid. "Let's be normal. Let's have a normal conversation. We know nothing about each other, so let's get to now each other."

He seems taken aback by my sudden - painful - smile, and the switch in my tone. He moves in the chair and it gives out a loud squeak that fills up the whole silence in my room. I really need to do something about that squeaking. 

"Okay...", he says but he has that thoughtful look as he moves again. "Okay. Well... I have a question for you."

"Shoot."

"Where are your parents?" The question is simple. Very simple. And his face seems neutral when he asks it. It does something to my heart that isn't healthy. I keep my face expressionless and it surprises me that I can lie this easily.

"They're away for the week. It was their twentieth anniversary, so I told them to take a little vacation to celebrate it, and that's why I'm currently living with Shiro."

Oh, if it only was that way. If only I woke up to go the kitchen and see dad making pancakes and whispering that he's going to surprise mom when she wakes up. If only mom came to the kitchen later to find the table nicely laid with porcelain plates and delicious pancakes in the middle with the top one decorated with strawberry jam that reads 20 and the big smile mom would give and the big family hug we would have. If only we could sit down as a family and eat the pancakes while mom and dad shares memories of their time together and the smiles they would flash me and telling me how happy they are to have me with them. If only I would tell them to take a vacation to celebrate their anniversary and assure them that I would be fine with Shiro. Me and Shiro would have so fun together, they would have nothing to worry about. If only I knew how my mom's face looks like.

And if only I had parents that could celebrate their twentieth anniversary.

"It looks like you spend a lot of time at Shiro's", Lance states and does a gesture around my room.

"Yeah. Shiro decided to make this room mine, because I often sleep here." My eyes twitch again. Lies, lies, lies. All lies.

"That's nice of him." Lance still has that thoughtful look on his face.

"You have more questions."

"I do. How come your parents didn't come back when the incident two days ago happened? Aren't they worried?"

This is even worse than I thought. It would have been better if I just stuck to tell him what's bothering me, and this conversation we have now wouldn't even happen. 

"I don't want them to worry about me", I say and look down at my hands. "So I didn't tell them what happened."

"That's not good, Keith! You need to tell them. They are your parents, they really need to know. You need to call them now and..."

"I don't need to do shit!" 

Lance closes his mouth with a slam and I grip my blanket when my hands start to tremble form the sudden anger. I look out my window and I see the depressing colors of the day, the sky gray and clouded with sorrow. It is a depressing day today.

"Are you on some sort of man period or something?" The pitiful try for a joke Lance pulls just ignites my anger more. 

"No. Are you?" My voice is laced with acid as I speak, and I think I just need to spit it out before it burns my tongue into nothing.

I hear Lance sigh and I wait for him to give up on me and leave. I wait for the creak and squeak from my chair as he stands up and the slam of my door when he exits my room. I wait for Shiro's asking him why he's leaving so soon and the lame excuse Lance would give and the sound of the door to the apartment close after him.

Instead I feel my bed sink from another weight. I look away from the window and see Lance sitting cross-legged just at my feet and he smiles at me, making a gesture for me to turn around.

"What?" I ask like he doesn't make any sense. Which he currently isn't.

"Turn around", he simply says.

"Why?"

"Because I'm going to braid you hair."

I frown at him and snort afterward. "What? Braid my hair? For real? Even if I let you do it - which I won't - my hair is not long enough."

"Oh, trust me. I have had to put up with styling my nephews hair almost everyday and her hair is no longer than yours." He winks. "I know what I'm doing, so don't worry about that."

"I ain't worrying about nothing. Because I won't let you braid my hair."

"You will."

"Won't"

"Wiiiilllll", Lance says, drawing out on the vowels. He tilts his head to the side and smiles broadly at me. "This is the best way of getting to know each other. Me braiding you hair and giving some relaxing scalp massage, while we tell each other facts about ourselves."

The first and biggest rule in having fun is to actually let yourself have fun. I need to occasionally remind myself of that line. I know what the problem is here. It's me. I don't let myself be carefree, or have fun, and instead stay fixated on being grumpy. If my life ends on the twentieth day, I need to at least look back at my life and smile at the things I managed to do. 

And I can start with getting my hair braided by Lance.

"Okay."

"Wait what?"

"Braid my hair, then." I take off one layer of fabric around me so I can slowly turn around so my back is facing Lance and I'm facing the wall in front of me. I hear Lance's breath hitch and I smirk in my new found power. "If you say you are so good at it."

But then I think logically. Braiding my hair would mean his hands on my head and I don't know if I can manage the contact of his skin on mine. There might me a mound between our skins - that mound being my hair - but it's still not enough. 

But then I stop thinking logically and remind myself that those thoughts won't take me nowhere. Sometimes you just have to not be logical to do things out of the ordinary in your life.

"I am the best at it!" Lance points out but I hear the slight tremble in his voice. I can't stop smirking.

"Prove it then." When nothing happens, I sigh. "Come on. Before I change my mind."

"Okay okay..." I hear Lance shift behind me and the next second he is grabbing a handful of my black hair. We both hold our breath in this moment but Lance is the one to let it out first. The only sound in the room is the rhythm of his breathing behind me, awfully close, and the rustle of the blankets when he moves. His fingers runs smoothly through my hair and the light tugging sends foreign feelings to my scalp and then the rest of my body. My eyes wants to flutter close but I keep them open.

"Do you..." I take a deep breath. "Do you even have a hair tie?"

"Of course", he says and I gasp when he lets his long fingers just slightly run over my scalp. I hear the smile in his voice when he continues. "I always need to carry around my nephews hair ties in my back pocket. To be prepared for anything, you know. You never know when she needs to put her hair up." He tugs at my hair again and this time I can't help but to close my eyes. Just for a little bit. "Or you never know when you need to braid an edgy emo's mullet."

My eyes open immediately. "Shut up. I never asked for it."

He laughs. "I know, I know. I'm just teasing."

"Then stop teasing and braid." He laughs again and it does something to my heart that shouldn't be legal.

"Have you ever gotten your hair braided before?" 

"No", I say like it's obvious.

"Really? You hair is very easy to braid."

"Hm." I try to close my eyes again and hope I don't have to open them for a very long time. I try to think past everything else and just think of this moment. Nothing else should matter than Lance's fingers running through my hair and tugging at it, and the fact that this seems very normal to him. I wonder if he always plays with his friends hair. Not that I see us like friends, but maybe we're getting there? Somewhat near to being friends? Maybe he's already seeing me as a friend?

I can't help but to smile.

"And it's very soft." My faces heats up as he strokes my hair, like he's petting it. 

"Any other opinion on my hair?" I swallow hard and dry my sweaty palms by rubbing them against my thighs. 

"Yes. It's like... very flowy. And black. Like black water."

"Tell me a bit about yourself", I say and try to keep my voice steady. "I need to know something about the guy that I'm getting braided by, right?"

"Right." He smack with his tongue and his hands pauses for just a moment, before they start to move again and style my hair and making me question all my life choices. "Fun fact about me: I'm awesome."

I open my eyes again. "Let's not state lies here."

"Hey!" We both laugh and it surprises me how easy my laughs comes out. It surprises me how easy going I am right now and how it seems that I have another personality now than just School Keith or Generical Keith. Maybe this new Keith is just the complete opposite of both those personalities. Maybe there is a Fun Keith, after all. That Keith maybe existed all the time, but has only come out from it's corner just now.

"Well, true fun fact: I'm from Cuba." 

I look over my shoulder at him. "You are?"

However, before I can see him clearly, he turns my head forward forcefully and I grunt. 

"Stop moving! You're going to ruin my masterpiece." He collects the strands of hair that has fallen over my face and his fingers accidently touches my cheek. His touch is like a fire, leaving a burn after on my skin. I try to sit still. "But yes. I'm from Cuba."

"I've heard nice thing about it", I say and I mean it.

"Si, Cuba es muy hermosa", he says in a deep tone and my heart screams in every possible language. "Como tus ojos."

"What?" I screech when the Spanish lessons comes to me and I figure out what he just said. 

He laughs again but I can't laugh with him this time. "Sorry, but Cuba might be more beautiful than your eyes. No offence."

"Stop that", I say and turn my torso so I'm facing him and swat his hand away when he tries to turn me around again. "Lance."

"Stop what...?"

"Stop saying things like that." Things that make me flustered even if they're not true.

Lance's eyes widens and they catch just the right amount of light coming from the sky outside. This light, however, does also show up his blush more, but not mine. I'm glad to be hidden in the shadows of my room.

"Okay. I will stop saying things like that. Okay..." He averts his eyes from mine like he really is ashamed. I hope he is.

I turn around again and Lance hesitantly continues to braid my hair again. I start to wonder what the exact purpose of this is. It's not like I will walk around with that braid the rest of the day; As soon as Lance is done and has shown me his "masterpiece", I will take it out and all this would be for nothing. 

But it doesn't have to be for nothing if we both get something out of it through the progress.

"What's Cuba like?" I ask and try to divert my anger form my body. 

When he starts talking it's like nothing ever happened just now and he sounds awfully happy. "Beautiful. Colorful, and so friendly. At least my neighborhood." He sigs in bliss. "You could wake up every morning to go to school and everyone would greet you. There was buenos dias from every direction. Everybody new each other." He pauses for a second, like he's looking back at a particular morning. Then he chuckles. "Imagine what birthday parties were like. The whole population of Cuba could come to our house just to wish a family member happy birthday."

"Sounds chaotic", I say when I picture every little people squeezed into just one house. And the noise. I wouldn't even be able to hear my own thoughts.

"It was", Lance confirms with a little laugh. "Oh man, it was so chaotic. With hispanic music blasting from the speakers in the living room all the time, children running around with their bare feet hitting the floor and screaming while they chase each other, the smell of food almost reaching to the city, and every hug you got from someone while they yell in your face, telling you how grown up you have become..." 

We sit in silence for some seconds. Lance's hands have stopped, and I can imagine how he's looking back at his time in Cuba and I know he misses it so much. I don't know what's that like, all that he told. Or, I do know what's it like living in a chaotic house, with chaotic kids, but never have I felt any joy or love out of it. Yes, the orphans in the orphanage would run around in the house, with their feet hitting the floor, and screaming while they chase each other, but that often resulted in someone getting a fist in their face, or being thrown against the wall. Everyone was impulsive and angry at life. And yes, there would be the smell of food, but it was just Roima cooking the same food for twenty parentless kids in stress, and that food was often just in containers or fast food that you only had to put in the microwave. That I know, but like said, no love involved whatsoever.

"Yes, it was chaotic, but it was the best times. So much love, and joy, and just everyone coming together and being happy with each other. This happened almost everyday. There wasn't any day where it would be completely quiet." He continues to style my hair again. "I really miss that. Not that it's not chaotic and all that now, but... it's just not in Cuba, do you know what I mean? Like... we tried to bring it all here to America, but it's still not Cuba. I really miss my home country."

"Must be hard", I mumble.

"It is. Sometimes. But most of the time I don't think about it. You know, I still have my whole crazy family with me, so it doesn't really matter where we celebrate a birthday."

"That's a nice thing to say." Because it is. Even if life is so strange twisted and our worlds is so far apart and we can't really relate to each other at all, it's a nice thought. Family is always with you, so it doesn't matter where in the world you are.

If only it was like that for me.

"Why did you move, though?" I ask before he has the chance to ask me something. 

"Because of our scholarship, future, work, ec cetera. Mom and dad - and even my oldest sister - believes that we have more of a chance to a good future here. You know, my nephews still finds it very hard to speak english. And you noticed my accent on the spot." Lance sighs again but this time it just sounds tired. "Anyway, as I said, we moved here because my parents and sister thinks that we will get a decent future here. More access to different schools and stuff."

"Do you think that?"

"Man, I don't know, to be honest. It's nice here, and all, but it's such a big step to just move from a country to another and kind of start your life on a blank page. But, I'm glad that I have Hunk here, and some other family members, or I wouldn't know anybody."

"When did you move here, anyways?"

"About one and a half years ago. Meanwhile, I have attended several special schools to improve my english, but it's just now that I could attended your school."

"You met Hunk in Cuba", I say, even if I already knows it's true. "Hunk lived in Cuba for a while."

"Indeed he did. That's where his dad worked for a while. But you must already know that." Lance laughs again and tugs at my hair a little bit harder, and it's so sudden it wakes me up a little.

"Yeah."

"And... Done!" I don't have time to miss Lance's hands in my hair when he stands up from my bed and takes his phone. He sits down again and I turn around just at the sound of his camera clicking. It feels weird to not have any hair tickle my face, and like my skin can finally breathe.

Lance looks at the picture he took and I wonder if I'm imagining the redness on his face. I try to snatch his phone away from him to see how the picture turned out, but he keeps on swatting my hand away and turns around, pressing buttons on his phone.

"Lance!" I growl and throw off a blanket so it falls down to the floor. I try to reach for his phone but he turns his back against me. "Let me see!"

He ignores me.

"Lance, I swear to God if you send it to anybody I will..."

"Perfect!" He turns around and shows me his phone. "My new background. Lock screen and home screen."

I sit still to look at my face, confused and surprised, looking into the camera with wide eyes and slightly parted lips. The picture is a little blurry from my movement, but you can still - if you look close enough - see the smallest blush on my face. And then it's my hairstyle; all the hair is away from my face and slicked back. It's not an ugly picture, but I still want him to delete it. But I know he won't, so I save me some energy and don't say anything about it.

"You can't even see my braid", I mutter and he withdraws his phone when I try to take it one last time. But for what? I still need a password to get into his phone, so taking it wouldn't do much.

"I know, but look how shook you look!" He laughs and looks at the picture again just to laugh harder. "Golden picture."

"Screw you. I will get back at you. Imma make you look ugly as hell."

"Oh, Keithy boy, that's impossible. Anyone should know that taking an ugly picture of me won't work. I could be taking a shit and I would still look fine as hell."

"Okay, why would I even take a picture of you while you take a shit?" I don't let myself paint a picture of it in my head to prevent myself from being traumatized.

Lance shrugs and stands up from my bed again, putting his phone in his backpocket. He smiles at me and does a salute. "Later, Keith. It was fun braiding you hair, but sadly, my face will catch the chancla if I don't return home soon." He walks towards the door and before he exits my room, he looks back at me, winking. "And keep the hair tie. We have lots of them."

I watch him disappear from my room and it's immediately filled with a silence I would normally embrace, but now I don't. I hate to admit I actually had fun these last few minutes, and it feels weird to not feel Lance's fingers running through my hair and hear his breathing just behind me, and hear his excited voice as he talks about his family and his home country.

As Shiro's and Lance's voices fades away in the hallway, I put my hand on the braid to feel how compact and small it is. Letting my fingers go higher up, something raspy touches my fingers that can't be my hair. It's an object stuck in my hair, and when I take it out I see it's very small piece of paper. A little wrinkly. When I turn it around I see something written on it. A sentence written in black ink.

Tomorrow. Meet me outside your apartment 15:30

Shiro agreed ;)

// Lancey-Lance

° ° °

But you know, I have thought of something. As I'm continuing to write this letter this late in the evening, I thought this:

What if you could just break the Earth's axis? You know, just snap it in half, so the Earth has nothing to rotate on. It just stands there, completely still, in the vast of black ink and white dots. But what if you made it spin with just your hands, make it spin the way you want it to. Because that's maybe the way to make things go your way. You make the world spin yourself. Do something - not to be passive - will result in many things.

° ° °

In which the author has no idea what Cuba is like...