《That Guy Is Boring》Chapter 22 - "Why are you acting this way?"

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"Oh... A very democratic way of looking at it. From the look on your face, I didn't imagine you to be a leftist," Beloved Mario said with a slight chuckle, still engaged in his squat. Not that the reasoning, or the planning behind, didn't convince the man enough for him to give a more serious answer, but he wasn't finding himself in perfect agreement either. Obviously risks always had to be taken and he had already decided to entrust the management choices to Roberto for the time being. Yet, he couldn't shake the feeling that putting too much trust in a guy like Alex wasn't a very good plan.

"Left?" The other answered him in the meantime as he got up from the ground, still feeling his legs a little weak from Camilla's well-placed punch. "Call me an asshole if you like but not a socialist. I still have dignity to defend. Very little, but I still have some." He later concluded after resting his hand on the concrete column, moving his neck from side to side to make sure he had no balance issues or nausea.

"Politics is bad for your health, boss. I have more important business to think about now anyway." Mario resumed in a renewed joking tone, quite different than his previous way of expressing himself. Roberto felt a tremor in the force, a premonition of bullshit we could say. So, following a sigh full of bitterness, he asked him: "Ah, yes? And what would they be? Have you already decided to throw the day away too? At least tell me it's something useful... At least give me some satisfaction.", concluding with a mixture of despair and desire for booze.

The giant's eyes lit up instead. Another unpleasant feeling resumed to wave his hand from Roberto's chest as soon as he became aware of it, expecting the worst. Mario, however, did not want to give him any pleasure and, already turning his back on him and going off on an adventure, said all convinced: "You'll see it! You will see it! And as soon as you see it with your own eyes, you'll prove me right! Mankind can't do without it!"

Ah... Let's make a deal and not comment on this detail. Even Roberto let his companion go without saying anything else to avoid having to cut his wrists open before time. So, I'll exercise my right to pretend that the last twenty seconds never even happened.

"Oh, well. Let's try not to completely throw the rest of the day away." The boy muttered then disconsolately, watching for a moment the bursting couple still engaged in their attempts and, then, moving in the direction of little Sabrina, still sitting still in her seat. She, too, was watching them from afar, holding her knees tightly in her arms in a seat that left a hint of underwear uncovered due to a, very good and gold medal, piece of wire.

As the cultured man that he was, Roberto appreciated but neither warned nor commented, willingly placing silence well above those useless moralistic principles that could have gotten him into trouble. Sure, by now it would have been pointless to worry about complaints or lawsuits in a world where there were no police or courts, but habits died hard.

"Sabrina," Instead, with a very solid straight face, he called out to her as soon as he was close enough, causing her to turn in his direction. " Just to know, and I don't really demand much, but are you going to use the day to do anything constructive? We don't know what might happen tomorrow, so it would be best to do as much as possible. Rest assured, even if there were danger no one would ask you to go to the front lines, that's our job. But having an extra way to protect yourself isn't a bad idea, is it not? I have some knives here, if you want I can teach you how to throw them. Maybe it won't be too useful, though..." Assisting the bulk of his words with smiles and light tones, as lighthearted as possible to put her at ease.

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However, she didn't seem very convinced. Although she was not yet refusing eye contact, and this was already a starting point, her staying clammed up already made Roberto realize that his talk must have been wasted. Even so, however, the boy waited a generous handful of seconds to get an answer, positive or negative, without rushing her. Not so much because he thought he'd get something out of waiting, but just out of scruple; then he could tell himself he'd done everything he could and thus stop thinking about it.

"I... I..." Sabrina finally moved her gaze in a different direction again, while at the same time beginning to respond with a few mouthing words. A slight tremor began to become evident in the side of her arms and hands, making it further difficult for her to put together a proper sentence.

Roberto once again avoided making her anxious by forcing his hand, choosing instead to observe her without even moving, but in the meantime moving on to think about something else. In a way, we could also say that he temporarily disconnected his brain to think about how relatively productive his day could be now that he was short of new information. Waiting for the girl's biblical times therefore did not become a complete loss of will to live for him, roughly.

"I don't... I don't..." Almost an additional thirty seconds of spiritual meditation later, Sabrina added a few more brief words to her speech, in a tone that was more hesitant than convinced though. Not that there was much to be surprised about at the end of the day. Roberto obviously had no way of knowing this, although he had already guessed a little, but since childhood she had always been both petite and introverted; a rather different way of doing things than the idiot she had standing next to her.

Indeed, from another point of view, those two had both had to have some difficulty in socializing but the paths they had chosen growing up had definitely been diametrically opposed. Or, underneath, the raw material remained the same, but time had produced two very different results. It's hard to say which of the two could be better or worse; on the other hand, problems are always problems, their form matters little.

"I... I'm afraid to fight. I don't... I don't feel like hurting anyone else, I'm sorry," he continued shortly after, regaining the attention of Roberto, who in the meantime was having his little trip with the angels. Expecting that kind of answer, however, he showed almost no reaction, if not a slight snort, just standing there looking at her face that seemed almost on the point of crying.

Ah... If someone really built this team from scratch I would love to have a word with them. Even with effort you couldn't put so many mental problems together like this. First with work and now here... Am I a magnet for problems or do I just have bad luck? He thought then, avoiding voicing his inner discomfort so as not to make it even worse.

"I'm fine with that," he said instead in response, trying to find a kinder, more understanding way of expressing himself that his good nature could allow. "However, even though we're practically rolling the dice, we could seriously find ourselves in danger tomorrow. In this place probably the logic and reason we're used to must be pretty useless anyway, so it's also laughable to try to predict what kind of messes might happen to us." Arriving at that point, and lighting a cigarette to reward himself for his efforts, he brought his free hand up to her head, giving her hair a brief stroke.

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"Let's do it this way," he continued, pulling away and moving pupil and iris to the upper corners of their eyes, as if he was trying to recall a particular scene. Saying after stopping daydreaming, "Yesterday you were in charge of making food, right? This morning too, again if I'm not mistaken. I'm not the most morning person in the world. I ate well, you know? It's been a while since I've had a meal prepared by someone else, not counting restaurants of course. So, considering that if I'm going to kick the bucket, I'd rather do it with well-cooked food in my stomach, how would you like to take over the cooking from here on out? We'll take care of moving weights and swearing, me, the idiot who's getting beaten up by his girlfriend and the giant with separation problems. Also because, if I'm really honest, I don't really trust the culinary skills of the only other girl we've met. I get the impression she has the same graceful hand as my mother who almost set the kitchen on fire a couple of times."

The expansiveness and eloquence with which he decanted his bullshit was, at least in my very personal opinion, a splendid display of artistic skill. The way in which he changed his expression, starting from conflicted and arriving relieved without forgetting to make a detour halfway between smiles and sympathy, allowed his words to be particularly listenable. Not very honest, but serving their purpose.

"You shouldn't say something like that... No girl would like to hear something like that..." Sabrina meanwhile focused instead on one point in particular, highlighted voluntarily by the boy expecting that it would be noticed first, considering who he was dealing with. In fact, if that had been a conversation between him and Alex or between him and Mario, even if he had insulted one of the boys' mothers, children and distant relatives, most likely no one would have really noticed and the discussion would have gone on as if nothing had happened.

Here, however, the rules were different but that was fine. That 'distraction' gave him the perfect excuse to put his hand on top of his head and answer embarrassed: "Eh... Just between us, between us... Okay? I'm counting on you as far as making food in the future. I expect good stuff, alright? I'm going to go now before I get into even more trouble. See you later!" Putting emphasis in the pauses and speeding up the speaking in the final greetings. Perfect preparations for his next escape, since staying there would bring him nothing else useful.

"Wait... Wait. Wait..." However, even with still a small voice far from being considered vigorous, the girl put a stop to his rush for the unknown and silence. Even going so far as to reach out a hand in his direction, as if to grab his back.

Roberto was already sick of dealing with her, but still made an effort to freeze in place when he heard her. Not that he had come a long way anyway, maybe just four or five steps.Of course, his source of information and entertainment for the day had already failed in both capacities, so at least he would wish that no one would bother him more than they had to; at least until the next day.

"Tell me dear?" He managed to say to her anyway, turning back and with a face that showed an expression far removed from his current state of mind, while with the tips of his toes he still pointed to freedom. She, in response, hesitated a few more times, causing further annoyance to the boy. However, coming to a decision at some point, though she was unable to keep her gaze fixed on one spot, she asked him, "Why are you acting this way?" without even specifying further.

"Huh?" Taken aback, the gentle smoker stretched his neck even further without stopping staring at her. Questions like that had never been to his liking, but he still understood where she was likely going with this. After all, maybe at most twenty minutes earlier, she had put on that whole imbecilic little show with Alex and, more importantly, Camilla.

"Ah... Think of it as a habit of sorts." He resumed then blinking while widening his smile, showing himself embarrassed once again. Continuing without waiting too long saying, "I have a bad temper and sometimes I have a hard time avoiding saying the wrong thing. In fact, it happens a lot actually...", hiding what he didn't wish to communicate in a comfortable gray area where a portion of the truth was enough to deflect attention.

"No... Not, I didn't mean that," Sabrina replied to him, however, twisting her fingers between them. In a way that, in another context, would probably have sounded cute. Instead, considering how delicate he could be about such small matters, the boy in search of tumors returned on alert, reluctantly waiting for a new sentence. That rapid change, however, forced his face into a stiffness he had not anticipated, quickly creating a crack in his friendly expression that did not suggest anything kind.

"By any chance..." resumed the girl, sinking her face on her thighs and speaking in sobs. Pushing herself, however, much more than both necessary and desired on the other side, the little wren managed to pull herself together and ask, "Isn't it... Isn't it that you're afraid of others too? Are you like me as well?" while remaining hidden behind her own legs the entire time.

Now, I don't doubt that a normal person could have simply answered such a question without much trouble, perhaps even going so far as to make a joke similar to: "Of course, do you know how many times I check the road before crossing? This is a crazy world!" Sometimes, however, it's the little things that separate a healthy psyche from a damaged one, or at least it could be said as far as Roberto's specific case was concerned.

Defining what one is afraid of is, in a sense, a dialogue towards oneself. Too bad that, for some individuals, finding out more about their tendencies and personalities is not a pleasant experience at all. Let's be clear, I doubt there are many masochists in the world who find pleasure in seeing their own flaws projected in the mirror, but at least most people would be able to observe and, if anything, ignore them and move on with their day.

For the very hardcore smoker, however, it wasn't that straightforward at all. Even he wouldn't be able to give a sensible or logical reason for it. Perhaps, for better or for worse, that preference of not seeing first rather than ignoring later was probably part of his nature. A tiny bit weak I must say, considering that he didn't appreciate that trait in any way when he found it in other people; but even that wasn't too atypical.

"Even... even Mario, I think, feels something similar," the girl resumed speaking not withstanding the silence that was going to create, not even knowing if with her words she was making things worse or better. "He does try to shorten the distance with other people though. He's different, the way he acts is different. Even yesterday, a few times, he almost seemed like he wanted to... He wanted to somehow open up to me and Camilla. I think he's having a harder time than he wants to give himself credit for maintaining his facade. And, when he realized what he was doing, he preferred to leave the club on his own under the pretense of looking for useful items rather than stay with us. I don't know what happened to him before he got here, but I think he's had his issues with others too but I don't think he's decided how to deal with them yet."

The girl's speech held water, and Roberto himself agreed. He wouldn't have gone so far as to speculate on what her true character might be or the motivations behind a possible change, but he had had a similar feeling in the short time he had shared with him. His ability to change his way of expressing himself and his state of mind was perhaps even more refined than the one Roberto had developed over several years of messes and troubles.

Not many people were capable of manipulating their behavior in such an unnatural way, fortunately I would say. However, the smoker had been forced to accept his nature in order to survive, since he was born with it, not even drugs could wash away the sin; while if Mario had become like that as a result of some event or emulation... Poor beast, poor beast indeed.

"You, on the other hand, seem to know how to slip between conversations... Yes, I wouldn't know how to say it differently," the girl continued, no longer knowing whether or not to stop saying what was on her mind. From her hedgehog-in-danger posture, she had no way of observing her interlocutor's body language, something she tended to actively seek out instead. However, despite the anxiety she felt every time she opened her mouth, her curiosity to know managed to get the better of her.

"You can connect with anyone, or at least that's how it seems to me. When the discussion gets to a point you don't like, you manage to blow it off with such naturalness that you immediately divert the attention of others in the direction you want. You say things that should make everyone hate you, and yet... And yet... And yet others seem to forget everything and accept you back without even thinking about it. In truth though, you're just like me too, aren't you?" Driven by the same fervor that was preventing her from being silent, Sabrina paused for a moment and raised her forehead upward, seeking Roberto's eyes for the first time in a long while.

"How do you..." She then began to tame, finding herself confronted, however, by a Roberto who was not very sympathetic in appearance. As much in fact as he was still trying hard to keep up the facade, the boy's gaze had become hard, motionless on a target that he watched from top to bottom by the slits formed by the close-set eyelids.

"That's enough," he answered to her in a voice fit for purpose, dropping both the puppet, curtain, and theater in one fell swoop. Even so, however, he showed no signs of anger or aggression and, on the contrary, indulged in a trivial sigh that flushed away some of the ugly look that had marked his face in spite of himself. After that, wishing for his longed-for silence and much-needed peace, he nodded to Sabrina and then headed straight in a random direction, away from the rest of the group.

Before leaving, however, he took the time to say, "If you're so good at reading people then avoid putting your hands where you shouldn't. Even I avoid doing that and I still have opportunities now and always have. I can tell you've never left your house," not waiting though for a response to come to him this time.

My God, what a little lady.

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