Crossroads
By LiLin

Chapter 1: Reset

“You have to leave the city of your comfort and go into the wilderness of your intuition. What you’ll discover will be wonderful. What you’ll discover is yourself.” – Alan Alda

RAYLIN

There were times when I would just sit and reminiscence about my high school days. That was when I just got out of college. While in Oxford University, I was always kept busy. If I was not out having fun with my friends, I was working. If I wasn’t at work, I was studying my ass off just so I could graduate with brilliant results. When college ended, however, I found that I still had too much time on my hands even if I was already working. But I didn’t like my job. It was too simple, too relaxing. I wanted to feel as though I was really busy. I liked the feeling of being occupied and the sense of accomplishment after every task.

Instead, as an employee of Tesco, all I did was scan items and made people hand over money for them. I mean, sure I was making money, but at the same time finding things from the past creeping up on me while I sat on the stool behind the cash register when the supermarket was empty, whiling my time away. Besides, you just don’t get a sense of satisfaction after bagging ten items for an old lady and giving her a nice smile.

I should have forgotten those memories a long time ago and moved on. But no. They were such beautiful memories, but also so painful. Nobody should have to remember things that hurt. I should not need to remember them so I forgot it all. I thought I had forgotten it all, but I was wrong, I just hadn’t had the time to think about it. I have barely changed much since high school. It has been six years, but I still am a bit of a cleanliness freak. I still triple-check the work I submit. I still am a little anal-retentive. I’m still punctual and I still keep my things organized. In short, I’m still very much a perfectionist.

My social life took a 180° turn, most likely for the worse. Back in high school, I had a close circle of friends. In college, on the other hand, I mixed around fine with the students, but there was nobody I could click with and carry a sincere conversation with. As a result, I only had a group of party friends whom I partied with. They were crazy girls with gorgeous faces and bodies that guys would turn to look at, with brains as well to be able to get into Oxford. Then again, the only things we could talk about were the number of skittle shots we downed at the last party and how many guys we kissed in the dark corners. Parties aside, I spent most of my time alone.

When college started, the girls and I regularly emailed each other with updates. As time passed, Leila was the only person I still kept in touch with. I missed that girl dearly, but we never got the chance to meet up in person, especially since oceans kept us apart. Sometimes I actually found myself missing the high school days that I desperately wanted to leave behind when I boarded the plane to England. Your high school years are supposed to be the best time of your life. Most teenagers would have spent it getting drunk, losing their first kiss, getting high, losing their virginity and getting laid. I certainly enjoyed myself and I treasure the people whom I spent those times with. There is, however, one person whom, try as I might, I could not push out of my memories. He did not steal my first kiss. Neither was he the one who stole my virginity. But he is, nevertheless, a thief.

He stole my heart. Or most of it, anyway. He also impacted my life in such a way that it would even be a waste to ignore the fact that he once existed in my life.

So that I could prevent myself from thinking about a person whom I was likely to never meet again, I moved back to my hometown, rented an apartment and landed a job at Pierce Holdings. I enjoyed feeling independent and caring for myself. After all, I spent a few years caring for my mother and sister, it was time I pampered myself. That’s not saying that I regret anything. I don’t, I could never regret the moments with my family. I missed them dreadfully when I was alone in England, sometimes wishing that I was back home when Rayne and I would cuddle together in front of the television for a late-night movie.

My mother and Rayne were upset that I had chosen not to continue living with them but really, we were living less than an hour’s drive apart. On weekends, I squeeze out just enough time to visit them and we spend some quality time together, sometimes even with my father, his wife and my step-siblings. When I see the smiles and humored expressions on their faces as we exchange funny stories, I personally think that the effort I’m putting into maintaining my positive family relationship is very worth it.

Did I also mention that I kicked the nasty habitual cycle of dating, screwing and dumping guys? I now have a stable boyfriend… Of about two months. Don’t scoff; it’s definitely an upgrade for me since the longest relationship I had was with him. That barely lasted a month. Sometimes I feel like I’m using him as a shield against my memories and I feel unspeakably guilty. He is an almost perfect partner, and I honestly am trying my best to give him my all, simply because he deserves so much better.

Hello everybody, I am Raylin Lachey, Human Resource Manager of Pierce Holdings and 23-years-old. This is my story.

VIPER

Art school was a pretty enjoyable time for me. I majored in Illustration and minored in Graphic Design and both courses appealed to me. I relished drawing and painting in Illustration lessons, every stroke of the pencil or swipe of the paintbrush bringing back memories of high school when I used to ponder over things in art class while transferring these thoughts onto canvas and paper. Graphic design was something entirely new to me, creating logos and pictographs with complex computer programs things that I had never tried before. I found myself liking the way different elements like typography and existing images came together to produce a satisfactory final result. Like Illustration, Graphic Design allowed me to stretch my creativity and imagination to create a masterpiece which I was proud of.

My little brother, too, seemed to like his new high school quite a lot. At the beginning, he had been quiet, slowly adapting to the new environment and grieving at the friends he left behind. There were times when I looked at his figure hunched over the computer talking to his friends back in the States and feel guilt rolling into me like a giant snowball. If I had not accepted the scholarship, I would not have had to bring him with me. Even though he assured me before that he did not want to leave my side, he never once complained when he first struggled. I knew, because my brother was the type who would excitedly chatter about something new if he liked it. It was only when smiles began to appear more frequently on his face and when he talked to his new friends over the phone as well that I knew things were back to normal.

Life would be a bore if I only spent my three years in college being all arty-farty, splashing paint on canvas and dubbing it ‘art’. I had my fair share of college parties, but I still stayed away from hardcore partying and getting drunk on alcohol. Alcohol bore bad memories for me and it was natural that I would want to steer clear of it. I made a few friends, some of whom I got along really well with. One could say that I was not as anti-social as before. I actually made the effort to start a conversation with one of my current friends, and it came as a surprise that being friendly was not as off-putting as it once seemed.

My father found a part-time job that paid for our apartment and food. He also wanted to take up some part-time baking classes. Initially, Melvin and I were skeptical of the idea (Seriously, a middle-aged man with virtually no experience in the kitchen suddenly wanting to bake? We feared for the kitchen; it had to be made fireproof.) It was only when he reminded us how our mother’s pies were to-die-for that we caved in. To help offload some of his burden, I took up a job at a local bluesy bar, playing the guitar and singing from time to time and being a bartender when they did not need a singer. This way, it earned me some cash and also gave me a chance to continue playing the guitar.

Singing in front of an audience used to pose a giant problem to me. Somebody’s entrance into my life certainly changed all that. I thought I saw her once at the bar I worked at, but I decided that it was just hallucination on my part. Sure we were both in England, whether she realized it or not but the chances of us running into each other when our schools were so far apart were extremely low. I did actually miss her and our short-lived relationship. I still credit her for changing my life, and not in a bad way. Sometimes her face flashes in my mind when I sing those sappy love songs that are required and replay those happy images in my head until I desperately want to drive a fork through my heart to stop my overworking brain. I sound like a lovesick fool but I have gotten over her. It just so happens that she is a prominent figure in my life that I cannot remove.

I graduated with satisfactory results, applied for a few jobs and found myself in England branch of an international magazine company working as their graphic designer. Or rather, I was working under a professional graphic designer who wanted to retire. Apparently his work was so good that the company would not let him go and requested for him to groom someone who met his approval before he retired. He picked me out of all the applicants. I was honestly surprised but thankful for the opportunity.

Yes, thankful. I did say I was not an anti-social teenager anymore.

Shortly after graduation and I landed my job, Melvin and my father moved back to the States, missing their lives there. I refused to go with them, liking my job and my friends. I lived and worked alone for two years before the guy supervising me decided that my work met his standards and were good enough to replace his finally got his wish. He retired and I was left as the magazine’s graphic designer. I really liked my job… Until they decided to post me to the United States branch. I had no choice but to agree and returned to the States. I had grown to like living alone and instead of sharing the apartment with my brother and father, I rented an apartment a few blocks away instead.

I am Viper, 24-years-old and working as a graphic designer in a famous magazine company. You’re going to be hearing a lot more from me in this story.

A/N: And here is Crossroads! REVIEWS ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED, TYVM! :D