Why R U the Series

Carnivals and Dreams

"Why are you coming closer to me?" Zon's quivering voice asked, beads of sweat profusely dotting his forehead and neck in anxiety, "What do you want from me?"

Sai Fah just gave him a brilliant smile in reply.

"Sai, why are you smiling like that?" Zon stupidly asked, he could not complete this thoughts coherently especially when he saw Sai Fah's huge hands reach out and cradle his cheeks.

Zon felt hot. He knew his face was red from embarrassment. For some reason, he knew he was blushing.

"Please, don't tease me like this," the shorter man's voice quivered like a mouse about to be devoured while the cat still played with the food that was in front of it.

"Oh no, please, NOOOOOOO!"

***

And he woke up.

He was back on his bed, and the only stars that glistened were the printed ones on his pillowcase.

The glare from the opened desktop lit Zon's face with an eerie glow. His anti-glare glasses completed his look, complimenting the over-all atmosphere that his room exuded.

He was a nerd. His pajamas, covered in stars in a field of cobalt blue blended him with his environment.

There were collectibles on almost all available surface; some unboxed and displayed, still others were still in their original boxes: a half sized replica of R2D2 sat like a sentinel on one of the side tables, a miniature C3PO gleamed golden below it and a limited edition BB-8. There were jedis, a standee of Darth Vader, a huge box of yet un-assembled LEGO® Star Fighter and other stuff including a life-sized storm trooper helmet that was prominently displayed on the rack beside the computer table. It was Sci-Fi heaven and the room of a guy that was obviously a geek; never mind the football that was stuffed under the table.

Zon was reading. As he flipped the last page of the novel, he frowned, thought to himself and grabbed at a bunch of print outs. He reached for the pen beside his keyboard, and read through the first page, his hand poised to make a note. Then he frowned again, crumpled the paper in front of him and threw it behind him.

The crumpled ball of paper landed on the floor beside dozen of others.

He made a quick glance at the next page and promptly set it beside him.

He bit on the pen that he was holding, read what was written on the screen in front of him, typed a few lines of text and stopped.

He reminded himself that he liked what he was doing and just like he usually did when he was alone - he talked to himself.

"I am Zon, and I dream to be a writer," he muttered like a mantra, alternately shoving his pen into his mouth and clicking on the keyboard as he continued to write the story that he was currently working on. "I only want to be read, that is my dream," he continued.

"I may not have been serious when i first started writing fiction," he said, "But things change, and all because of my lovely little sister." he mumbled sarcastically, glancing at a framed photograph of himself and his boisterous sister and a flash of memory played out in his head.

***

It was about a year ago. He could still vividly remember the sweet smell of the cookies and milk that was right in front of him. Both his hands were holding a piece of the cookies as he ceaselessly pushed one after the other in his mouth. He was comfortably sitting on the kitchen table, one of his leg bent and raised on the chair he was sitting on, his eyes glued to the mobile phone in his hand; crumbs of the cookies that was pressed to the side of the phone was distinctly visible.