A yellow, old and rusty bus stops by. You still tired from your meeting of last night. The work as sport moderator for a big news channel is tougher as you’ve thought, champ. But fortunately you have now three days off to get together with your besties of Philamore High. You’re actually boozing to see all. Maybe, not about Jessica. You guys had a terrible relationship and a very bad end. I guess sleeping with her mom wasn’t the kind of things a good boyfriend does. Anyways, the bus is there and you enter it now.
In the bus are already Jasmine and Steve. She is looking outside of the window with a face of embarrassment and disgust, while Steve is trying to hit on her. He sits in the row behind her with ruffled hair and wearing a white shirt with the Jamaican flag. Maybe he should clean his teeth the next time, before speaking to a girl and smelling like McDonalds and black afghan.
You look to the Bus driver. A weird old man with light gray hair and a black suit. His eyes are bright blue, almost white. He looks at you with an unreadable face, while chewing something in his mouth.
»Jordan Kingsley«, you say quietly with a light feeling of being uncomfortable. As soon that you notices that Jasmine and Steve are looking at you, you remind yourself of being a top-flight.
»Jordan Kingsely, King of the Philamore High. Ready to rock«, you say with a strong expression of mankind and proud.
The old man looks at you with a face that would hunt one in ones dreams. Over and over again. A reflection of pure revulsion, almost hate. Now that you’re looking so concentrated at him you notices that the left side of his face is covered with a bum scar. Running down from his face to his throat.
»I ehm …I take a seat«, you mutter, hopping to never speak again to him.
The old man refuses an answer and continues just to stare at you. It seems like he stopped breathing. He looks like wax figure of a horror show.
You slightly nod your head and move away from him, towards the group.
You look at both who are smiling at you.