Hello again! I hope that you have had a wonderful week, so to get you through till Friday, here is the second character in my series… Ollie! I hope you enjoy, and please, please, please share your thoughts, comments and all that jazz! I’m so honoured that you are here, clicking, scrolling and (hopefully) enjoying. So here we go:
Ollie: Part One
Ollie was itching for a ciggy. He picked at a scab on his pasty arm and sniffed loudly as the morning train rolled in. He then thought of a joke in his head and laughed, a chesty cushioning of phlegm prevailing. The sky washed out all the colours in the world – it didn’t necessarily add to the finesse that was the ‘scenic’ view of Dandenong. A scum hole, he thought in his head. As the early morning commuters gathered at the faded yellow line like clothed animals to a moving metallic waterhole, Ollie tapped his fingers on his deck of smokes and turned up the Radiohead that he was blasting through his earphones from his old school iPod – the one with the wheel and the ginormous storage space that he vowed he would fill up before he turned twenty two. The doors screeched opened and the smell of sweat filled his nose. He grimaced and sat in the first seat he could find.
Ollie had long straggly brown hair that was oily at its roots and frayed at the ends from the colouring and straightening that he used to torture it with in high school. His hair to him was a growing timeline of his rebellion against his parents; his father said if he grew out his hair he’d disown him. As it turns out his Dad didn’t disown him, he just complained every other day at Ollie to get a haircut whilst his Mum would practically run around the house with a bottle of shampoo yelling at him to wash it, “You could fry an egg off that thing!” she would remark. Ollie was stick thin – no matter how much he ate he stilled remained just under fifty kilos. He had bushy pale brown eyebrows, and forgetful green eyes that were watery and dull like a patch of faded summer grass. His nose was too pointy for his liking, his shave too close to his face. Several raised red pimples from blade irritation dotted his cheeks. His teeth where nice though, slightly too perfect and too white. Strangely enough his dentist told him that he had a condition where the colour of his plaque and enamel would always be white, whereas others, ‘normal people’, were yellow. Basically, even the build-up gunk and crap in his mouth still gave the appearance that his teeth were sparkling Hollywood white. They were perfectly aligned, thanks to the years of braces, his lips were thin and his chin pointed like a droopy, half-assed arrow drawing.
As the train sped up, Ollie grabbed out a worn-out notebook and flipped to a page. The lined page was covered in passages of small curly writing. Some bits were highlighted, other were circled. As he bopped his head up and down, Radiohead switched to Bring Me the Horizon, bringing with it memories of his high school days. Parties, girls, the Castle, skating accidents.
Focus, he told himself. He looked at the open book on his lap and began pulling at a rip in his unfitted bootleg Kmart jeans. He then sniffed his Metallica tee-shirt and wondered if he smelt. Nah, he thought, he had a shower last night. He should be good for the afternoon. The train pulled into Yarraman and a flock-load of commuters came in. Ollie noticed a woman in a nurse’s uniform carrying a plastic bag full of dirty clothes. He squinted, she looked familiar. However, he just shook it off as she walked past him. Suddenly he felt his phone beep from in his side pocket. Getting his Samsung out and sliding the code in, a text from Jamie popped up.
Jamie: I’m so ready for you after your exam. Mum’s gonna be at work all day. We’ll have the house to ourselves babe X
Ollie felt excitement pulse through him and the blood rush from his head and down his body. Today was the day. His last Uni exam … ever. The last thing he had to do for his degree. Today was also the day that he would seal the deal with his girlfriend. A blinding white smile escaped from his mouth as he quickly sprawled his thin fingers over the touch screen:
Cn’t wait either. I got evrythng u asked. I’m so ready babe.
Ollie smirked, turned up his music and slipped his notebook back into his bag. He didn’t need it. In a few hours he was going to be on top of the world … not to mention on top.
* Ollies’s story [Part Two] continues on [MON/JUN/08].
* This narrative was edited by my wonderful editor: Kayla Marie Murphy. Contact: firstname.lastname@example.org for any inquiries.
* Creative Credit for Ollie’s image goes to the wonderful and supremely talented Jinny Park, whose Instagram feed you can check out at: http://www.instagram.com/somethingpeach. Thank you so much Jinny for this wonderful collaboration!
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