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He awaited the bus silently. With an anticipated grin on his face, he bargained for his small but complete family. His biological family were almost inconsequential. Though he felt guilty for having these feelings he did not deserve his biological family, but more. His real family was counting on his return more than he knew.
Interrupted of his thoughts, a young lady sat beside him. He put his curiosity on pause and took a gander and managed a smile. His smile was so flawless and pulchritudinous. His dimples were deep with his teeth all aligned and bright. The sun reflected the flashes of blinking chrome off of his teeth. His sky blue eyes seemed to dance and glitter as his dark brown hair with sandy streaks blew in the autumn air.
"Hello young miss." he said in a welcoming, deep and gentle voice.
She looked up at him and hesitated then looked upon his full face once more. She placed her hand over her heart and gave him a look that seemed sincere.
"You . . . ", she swallowed, "You're so beautiful . . ." she stammered. She began breathing heavily looking to the ground.
The young man was confused. "But you don't know me," he claimed with with another accessible and faultless grin.
She didn't say anything. The young man watched her. She was a plain looking young woman. Her hair was in a ratty and unmanageable black ponytail that reached to the middle of her back. Her face was small as the rest of her body was. Her face was smothered in freckles and she bit her nails more than she should.
A gust of cool air blew through the two on the cold bench. She shivered and the young man was close to help.
"Would you like to wear my jacket?" he offered.
"Well . . . if you wouldn't mind . . . " she hinted.
He gently took off his knee length charcoal trench coat and gifted it to the young woman, which was foot length on her. His black long-sleeved shirt was enough to toast him.
"I'm Victoria," she said nodding.
"I am Gackt," he said calmly.
They began speaking of everyday subjects such as the chilly weather, recent news and other things.
"How old are you, Gackt?" she asked ever so interested in him.
"Eighteen," he said with a predicted smile.
She looked at him in an extravagant manner as if he weren't being truthful to her.
"Really?" she asked, doubtedly.
The man was indeed distinguished for his age and looked as a physical grown man would look.
"Indeed," he said with a single nod, "You look about nineteen."
Her eyes became large.
"Fantastic guess!" She seemed so excited of his correct answer. She believed she looked much younger.
There was a silence that was soon broken by the bus they both had been patiently awaiting. They both boarded it cautiously.
They sat side by side, talking up a storm once again. The young man's words made the young woman very happy. She began to bite on her fingernails in a nervous way, saying soon after, "Gackt, would you like to go on a date with me this Saturday?"
Gackt was surprised. He always was.
"Oh, well . . . thank you very much but I don't think so," he stated.
She gave him a crude look that worried him a bit.
"All that flirting and you blow me off . . . you're the complete definition of a jerk. I may not be up to your standards but I'm better than you." She was speaking low but she was absolutely furious. She pressed the button to indicate the bus driver to stop. She started again, "You're shallow and I'm glad you turned me down."
Gackt flinched. He began to chuckle. He had never in his eighteen years of life been called 'shallow'. She rolled her eyes at his laughter and left the bus in a rush. Gackt waved and said a farewell.
It wasn't long until he was off the bus walking no more than ten minutes to his biological family's home. He approached the large white house.
"No cars?" he whispered. "What a lucky man I am".
He drew a yellow daffodil from the ground gently. He flung the door open and began to search for his real family. The faucet running, he approached the kitchen to find his family washing the dishes his biological family made for her.
"Oh Anita!" Gackt sang to her.
She looked up and sang back in surprise, "Oh, Gackt baby! Come'ere and gimme some suga!"
Gackt gave her a long and tight hug.
"You look startled and confused, baby, what's on that large mind of yours?" she said then giving a wholesome laugh.
"I was called 'shallow'," Gackt said in a monotone voice.
Anita glanced at Gackt as if she were truly afraid. Her eyes were as big as gumballs.
"You? Shallow?" she began to laugh uncontrollably, "Sit down baby and I'll make us some tea."
Gackt did as Anita said. He watched the short, stout, thirty-eight year old African American woman prepare the tea. He was still confused about the young woman on the bus. The tea was finished and he still felt the same. Anita took a seat in the spotless kitchen next to him.
"Who said it baby?" she stated looking most concerned.
Gackt told her the entire story. He felt a light release while talking with Anita. He always did. He would talk to her about anything and everything. They would talk deep into the night it would nearly be morning. Gackt liked those talks. He enamored thoughts that kept him thinking and guiding him into more questions, more answers then more questions. Thinking was one of Gackt's most precious hobbies.
"I told her, 'Thank you but no thank you' and she got all huffy and started calling me names like 'shallow' and 'jerk'." Gackt paused and his eyes began to shimmer in truth. "I don't believe in love, Anita. Not the romantic kind anyways. All I need is a platonic love which only you provide for me, Anita. I love you." He leaned over to kiss her smooth cheek, "I just don't understand why people have to jump to conclusions when I won't take something, why people seem to always give me strange looks when I tell them how I'm feeling or why people tell me I'm beautiful when they don't even know me at all. I could be the most ugliest person to have ever had the privilege to live. Why do they tell me I am gorgeous? What is to pulchritudinous about me, Anita?"
Anita smiled and licked her lips biting her lower lip slowly.
"Baby," she began, "Men like you are rare. Men like you can find beauty in all living things. Men like you always give everyone a chance without hesitation. You take the beauty from the inside and place it on the outside and superglue it. None of that beauty will leave as far as you're concerned. Men and women judge beauty on the outside, not all . . . but most. Men and women base their relationships on sex not all . . . but most. Men and women always notice something physical about someone whether then spiritually, emotionally or mentally . . . all do that," she threw her arms up and gave a half-chuckle, “but not you!" She sipped her tea quietly.
Gackt sipped his tea as well, while thinking of course. No emotion was ever shown on his face when he was thinking which was around ninety four percent of his existence. He finished his tea and tilted his head downward a bit.
"Anita?" he questioned, "What is physical beauty? How can you tell someone to be pretty on the outside?"
Anita sighed. "You sure do ask a lot of difficult questions," a short silence fell upon them. "I would say . . . someone who is very pleasant to look at," Anita said nodding as if approving of her answer.
Gackt's eyes went blank. "I think I get it," he said slowly, "Well, I think everyone's beautiful!" he shouted in a costly voice.
Anita laughed her smooth rhythmic laugh.
"I was wondering why I keep working for this doltish family and then I remember, they're your doltish family," Anita said pleasantly.
" I was wondering why I keep coming back, then now I know. It's because I need to take care of my Anita."
They shared an embrace. The contact between Gackt and Anita was always warm.
Gackt yawned and stretched.
Anita smiled and cooed, "Does my wittle baby need a wittle nappy nap?"
Gackt nodded and laughed at Anita being her silly self. He flew himself upon the clean couch and fell asleep in a matter of minutes, dreaming softly. . .
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