Preface and Chapter one

Losers of Love

 

 

 

There are three types of losers of love:

Type #1: The Newbies. As the name suggests, they are extremely new to the game. They have no experience whatsoever, which makes them illiterates of love. This type of losers are totally lost when they like somebody. They don't know what to do, how to act, what to say  etc. when it comes to their crushes. 

Type #2: The Hotties. These people are the ones who “shouldn’t be single” because they are hot and attractive.They are smart and talented af. They can grab all of the attentions in the room if they want. But they are very single. How? 

Type #3: The Experts. These fellas have more than enough experience in romantic relationships. They know what they are doing or at least they think they do. They can be the best lover one can ever have. The problem with this kind of losers is that they know too much. They how everything goes and how much it hurts. They always have to think through everything to keep the damage to the minimum. 

If you are a loser of love, which type you think you are? 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                                                             Chapter I  BFFs

My name is Kevin Mitchell, I am a Sophomore majoring in interior design. I am twenty years old and about five feet eleven in height. I have brown hair and green eyes and very very white teeth. It is currently ten o’clock at night on a Tuesday. I am working on my project in my department building. I am supposed to make a model out of a box. I am cutting a piece of wood and trying not to cut myself. As the scissors go through the material and slides to the end of it, a text message comes through. I put down my equipments and look over, the screen has gone black again once the buzzing sound stopped. I reach out and grab my phone. It is my friend Maddie. 

“I am starving.” That’s all she has to tell me.

“I bet you are.” I text her back, fingers flying from one letter to another on the keyboard. “It’s already ten o’clock.”

She responds me almost right away: “I haven’t eaten since 8:30.”

I laugh at the text a little. “Haven’t eaten since 8:30” means that she probably had a giant meal whose content is going to have something like a double whooper, a smoothie and a side of fries. She finished eating at 8:30, then she had to go on stage. The performance went from 8:30 to 10:00. 

And now she is starving. 

Knowing Maddie personally, this kind of conversation has become very normal for me. Maddie has an enormous appetite. The girl can eat like she had four stomaches. But people who are not acquaintances believe that all she has all day is just water and cucumbers. Because my friend, Maddison Sanchez, is a 5-foot-8 model-looking hottie. 

Sometimes I just don’t understand, we are all humans, our body compositions are the same, therefore we should be made equally during the 10-month pregnancy. But some of us can come out of their mothers’ wombs and then turn themselves into flawless creatures, which is so unfair. Maddie is one of those flawless beauties I am talking about. She is tall and slim. Her inky black hair is long and lustrous. She has a tiny face with delicate and well balanced features. If these aren’t enough to make you envious, then there are more to come: she double-majors in Communications and French, she can sing, she plays the drum, and she is the leader of a band. 

The band performs twice a week in a local bar which is quite popular around here. The bar is called “1032”. I know one of the bartenders, he once told me that Maddie was the one who brought the business, quoted from the owner. 

Maddie is beautiful, and she is more beautiful when she performs. I have seen her live multiple times, and to be honest I am stunned by her power on stage. She is energetic, concentrated, captivating, and absolutely sexy. I don’t think anyone can resist the amount of charms she delivers in each performance. She is a goddess who just walked out of the galaxy and her whole appearance shines like a star. 

I don't know about other people, but when I know I have a hot friend, I feel very proud of myself, and I constantly want to brag about the fact that my best friend is hot. 

I get back to my project after giving her a quick response. Then I realize that I am starving as well. As a normal human being with a normal appetite, after six hours passed my dinner time, my stomach is growling. My brain starts to get foggy due to carbohydrate shortage. I would like to stop right here and get a bite to eat, but I can’t. This project is due tomorrow at 8 p.m., any yet I haven’t made that much progress by this point. If I don’t keep going and finish it tonight, I won’t have that much time tomorrow. 

Only if I didn’t go out three times last week. I regretting all of my life choices as I try to ignore the aching sensation coming from my empty stomach. 

Fine, let’s order grub hub in ten minutes. I say to myself. Then I hear footsteps coming. I assume I am tripping because of my insane hunger level, at the same time, I get this feeling that someone is actually coming and getting closer and closer. Maybe is one of my colleges in class who is also getting things done late at night. I think, not intending to pay much attention. 

“Kevin Mitchell.” Someone calls out my name. I recognize that voice. 

I turn around with a surprised face.

“Maddie!” I exclaim happily. “What are you doing here?”

“Bringing you food.” She says. Then she lifts up a brown paper bag which clearly is a take away from a restaurant.

“Oh my god!” I almost scream. “You are the best!” I am going for a hug, but she pushes me away.

“Don’t hug me.” She says, “There is dust all over you.”

I notice that my shirt is covered in wood dust from all the cutting as I look down. I give Maddie an awkward smile. Unlike me dressed in a sloppy outfit solely for working late, she is still put together at this time of the day. She wears a olive green blazer in a satiny fabric with a graphic white T-shirt whose hem is neatly tugged in a pair of washed black jeans. Her make up is still on her face, perfect, clean and radiating. She just came after an intense live performance, but no single sweat or mess can be spotted on any part of her appearance 

“ How was your show tonight?” I ask as I take the paper bag and start opening it.

“Normal.” She say. 

“Normal” means excellent. I quickly interpret that in my mind. Maddie never uses words like “good” or anything like that. Most things to her are either “ok”or “terrible”. 

I take out the plastic box in the bag, then I see rice wrapped in black seaweed sheets with salmon and avocados in the middle. 

“You bought me sushi?!” I am beyond happy. Sushi is my favorite food in the entire universe. 

“Can’t you tell?” She says with a flat tone. “ I figure you probably want them.”

“I was having the biggest craving for sushi.” I pick up one piece of sushi with the wooden chopsticks. 

“You have the biggest craving for sushi every day.” Maddie says. 

If that ain’t the truth, I don’t know what is. I love sushis with all my heart. I don’t understand why some people think they are disgusting. 

“We should got to Blue Dinosaur sometimes.” I say after a big, satisfying bite. Blue Dinosaur is a sushi restaurant on campus. It would be my second dinning hall if it wasn't for the price. For a while we are silent, until I finish my food with gratitude, I turn my face to look at Maddie who sits down on one of the tall chairs, legs draping down elegantly. She has her eyes fixed on her phone, fingers strolling up. 

“Are you on instagram?” I ask curiously.

“Yeah.” She answers without looking at me.

“Did you see anyone hot?” 

“Nope.”

“Did you see anyone hot at the bar tonight?”

“Nope.”

“Come on Maddie.” I am quite disappointed. “There must be somebody.” 

I know there must be someone attractive in the audience tonight, but Maddie could not be bothered to look. She has been single for a long time, as a good friend, I have been trying my hardest to get her to date someone. Unfortunately I have yet succeeded. Conventionally it shouldn’t be that difficult since she is so pretty. The only reason why dear Maddie is still single is that she is the fussiest girl on the planet earth. I get it, she is Maddison Sanchez, for the amount of amazingness she has, she is allowed to be picky. But that sometimes make a real pain in the butt. Well, that’s a different story.

My friend is humming under her breath. A song she wrote two weeks ago called Falling Feathers. The melody is beautiful, so are the lyrics.

“Did you guys perform this song tonight?” I ask.

“No.” she says. “I haven’t memorized the lyrics yet.”

I burst out laughters. I almost forget that my “perfect” friend has one flaw which is her terrible memory. She can forget things within the time she turns her body away and back. She even forgets the song lyrics she wrote herself. 

“Well, if you forget the lyrics you can just make something up on stage.” I suggests. Maddie has this talent of forming words into literal sentences in seconds. Whenever she forgets her lyrics on stage, she always comes up with something new and pretends nothing happened. 

“Yeah, but I can’t even remember the first verse.” She says.

“Did you really write that song yourself?” This is not the first time I ask her this question. “How can you not remember the lyrics?”

She shrugs. 

I know I shouldn't say this, but every time I think of how horrible Maddie is at memorization, I feel a little bit better about myself. If there is anything I can beat her, that will be it. However, it is not so much about “defeating” her, it is just that I know she has imperfections, and imperfections make people more lovable. 

I met Maddie at my residence hall freshmen year. She was the girlfriend of my roommate back then. Her ex’s name is Jackson. One day Jackson asked me if it was okay to bring a guest. I said yes without even thinking about it. Later that evening Maddie walked into our tiny double room. Before I say anything else, I am going to throw this out there: I am gay. I am not sexually attracted to women at all. But the moment I saw Maddie standing there, I just couldn’t take my eyes off her. It was a hot summer night, she was in a black crop top and black skinny jeans. Her lips were tinted with bright red lipsticks. The rest of her face was fresh and clean. As I was frozen still, Jackson quickly introduced us to one another.

“Hi, I am Kevin.”

“Maddison.” 

That was the first conversation we had. Then Jackson put an arm around her and guided her to his side of the room. They started talking with soft voices. I heard some words in French. Once in a while, I would catch a quick glance of Maddie. The way in which she carried herself was so elegant that the aura in my room started to change. I found myself staring at her shadow on the closet. Even her shadow was beautiful. 

She stayed for about an hour, before she left, she turned to me and said goodbye. 

I didn’t see Maddie again until Jackson and her broke up in a few months.  I didn’t know too much about their relationship. Jackson and I weren’t close friends, after the break up he transferred and we rarely talked from that point. I bumped into Maddie in the gym. She just finished her work out when we saw each other. She said she remembered me. Then we exchanged our contacts. Shortly after we started hanging out. She invited me to see her live. I went as promised. She introduced me to her band mates… So on and so forth. By the end of freshmen year we became best friends. 

Now the time on my screen is 11:30 p.m. I have finished two more sections of my project.  My productivity is rising. I am confident that I can wrap up my work in couple hours. Maddie is still sitting on the chair. It’s been an hour since she came here to bring me food.

“I think you should go home.” I say to her. 

“I am about to.” Maddie says, slowly standing up. She then turns on her heels. 

“Hey Maddie.” 

“Yes?” 

“Thank you.” 

“Anytime.” She says. Then she starts to head out. 

I start the last section of my project as the sound of her heels hitting on the floor fades away. 

 

Chapter Two

Chapter II Social Media Trauma

 

[Two months ago]

I just got out of bed after a rough night of sleep. It was one of those nights when your body and brain just wouldn’t cooperate. One was exhausted while the other one was not ready to calm down yet. Anyways, I reached out and took my phone. Holding it with on hand, I walked into the bathroom and started to get ready for the day. The only person that would text me first thing in the morning was Kevin. He was that one friend who just couldn’t keep anything inside of his system for more than an hour. 

I read his text to see what’s up.

“I am in love.” He said. The word love was in all caps. 

Confused in English, I texted him back: “What the hell are you talking about.”

Two seconds later I got another text. Was he up this early just to have a conversation with me through text messages? 

“I mean, I have a crush. Like a real crush.”

“I thought you said your only crush is Chris Evans?” As I typed this sentence and clicked the send button, an image flashed in front of my eyes. Kevin screaming and drooling over Captain America in the movie theatre with hearts popping out of his eye sockets. Not the most pleasant thing to recall the first thing in the morning, but alright. 

“Yes, I love Chris, but this time it’s different!”

I studied the message and the exclamation mark at the end, no conclusions. Kevin has been mysterious these days. He would look down at his phone and smile like an idiot. 

“How so?” I sent out the text and got back into my business. I brushed my teeth, washed my face and then I looked down, there were three more new texts. 

I read through each one of them.

The first one: “You know I was on Tinder last week right?”

I definitely did. He was on Tinder 24/7, just like he wanted sushis for dinner every single day. 

The second one: “I swiped this really really hot guy right and he swiped me right as well. Then we started talking. I saw his pictures and omg he is like so hot.”

The third one: “We were talking for a while then he asked me if I wanted to hang out.” 

I led my brain process all of these for a little bit. Then I responded to the texts all together: “ If he is that hot then he probably doesn’t need Tinder to get laid. Plus you don't even know whether or not his pictures are real. And if you really wanna get laid you should just go to the bar and hook up with real people.”

“Maddie, you have no idea.” Kevin retorted. He was too romantic to agree with what I said.  He was a five-foot-eleven guy with a intellect of a sixteen-year-old girl. Everything in his world had pink fog and bubbles around them. He went on with his messages about how this guy was not a typical colleague student, how he loved music and art and literature and other crap men would say when they tried to get you to sleep with them. 

“There is a picture of him with his nephew. That’s like the most adorable thing I have ever seen. I am sobbing.”

“Maddie, you have to see his picture. Like how can he even be real?”

“Ok.” I texted him back, deciding to end this meaningless conversation right now. “But I am seriously not concerned with how he looks like. You can hang out with him, just be careful.”

“I will Maddie. We are having dinner together at Blue Dinosaur this Friday.”

The few days leading up to that Friday were like nightmares. I was constantly getting a shit ton of texts and video calls from Kevin for assistance. 

“How do I look?” Kevin stood about two feet away from his dest and turning round and around showing me his outfit. His phone was leaning against a water bottle. 

I was in the middle of writing an essay, therefore I was quite annoyed by such interruption. 

“You look fine.” I said, still typing on the keyboard. 

“You didn’t even look!” He whined. 

“I don’t need to look.” I retorted, “ I know you look fine.” 

“Really?” He continued to ask. “Do I look bloated in this top?”

 Does having a crush kill your self-esteem? Speaking from a woman’s point of view, Kevin is good-looking enough. He is tall and proportionally built. My opinions may be biased for I was his best friend, but the girls in his department talk about him a lot as well. They say that he has pretty eyes and cute fluffy cheeks. He is mild mannered and better-dressed than most of boys on campus. He is quite attractive, but it seems to me that he has no idea how lovable he is. 

“It doesn’t matter. “ I said. “You will be bloated anyways with all those sushis you eat.”

“Maddison!” He yelled with annoyance. “Why are you like this? I need your support now.”

“Sweetheart.” I looked at his puppy face on my phone screen. “ I am supporting you mentally at the moment. You just can’t see.”

“But you are not even telling me how I look.” His lips pouted.

“I told you that you look fine. You won’t believe me.”

“Okay.” His lips were back to their normal shape. “But you have to see this.”

“Kevin, I am writing an essay.” I said that with a sigh.

“It’s going to be really quick.” He bent down to grab something on the floor. I leaned closer to see. It was a piece of paper inlayed in a wooden picture frame. Kevin blushed as he flipped the paper and showed me what was on it. 

In front my eyes now was a black and white portrait of a man’s profile. It was not a simple stretch, but a piece of intricate work of art. The shadows were well-placed and the lines were sharp and clean. Kevin said the guy was handsome, which I could see from the outline of the profile.

“Wow.” I exclaimed, for Kevin’s talents. “That’s really good.”

“Thank you.” He blushed even more as he put down the portrait. “It took me a whole day.”

If the guy really looked like this portrait, it would be a big accomplishment for Kevin, with other qualities he had, I wouldn’t think twice to be supportive of this relationship. My dear friend deserved a beautiful, wholesome man after all these years of singleness, 

“Well good luck my friend.” I said. “Keep me updated.” 

Then I hung up the call, but I had to respond to hundreds more text messages coming through later on. 

Finally the day had come. Kevin spent an entire afternoon getting ready in his apartment. Meanwhile, I was sitting on his couch killing my brain cells by writing lyrics for my next big gig. After a momentary chaos, Kevin was fully dressed and ready to see his prince charming. He walked down stairs, shoes shinning, hair brushed back, and smelling like a garden in spring. 

“Do I need anything else?” He put his hands in his pocket and asked.

“ I don't think so.” I shook my head. “I mean, if all of this doesn’t get you laid, I seriously don’t know what will.” 

Getting encouraged by my words, Kevin grabbed his bag and ran towards his pink romantic sweet dream.

Three hours later the pink sweet dream shattered into pieces.

Kevin got “catfished”. 

The “prince charming” he met by swiping on Tinder was actually a 40-year-old man with excessive amount of fat on his body and a feet shorter than Kevin. According to Kevin’s despairing cry, the man smelled like a seafood market and did nothing more than watching adult movies and indulging in fast food all day, therefore he knew nothing about art and literature. 

I felt bad for my friend but accused him for being too dependent on the app. 

“Stay off  Tinder.” I told him. Till this point he has been crying for about an hour. It was the ugliest cry I had even seen. He was that heartbroken. 

“I just…” Words came out his mouth but fell apart right away. “How can…How can he do this to me!”

“Cuz…” I was trying to say it in a nice way. “Because he is not sure if he can meet a young guy like you if…”

I stopped talking because Kevin jumped on me and put his head right on my shoulder. 

“But look!” He shoved his phone right at my face. “Look at this! Isn’t it ridiculous?!”

That was the first time I took a look at his crush, or the crush he intended to meet. The photos on this man's feed were marvelous. I totally understood why Kevin fell in love with the person in them instantly. To be honest this man looked like a artwork from the Renaissance. He looked perfect from every single angle possible. His hair was neatly styled, and so blonde as if his parents took a branch of wheat and planted them on his scalp when he was a baby. There was one photo of him staring straight at the camera with a subtle smile, those blue eyes of his were clear like glass. He was a surreal man, but obviously created and polished by filters and other kinds of social media technologies. 

I wouldn’t be less disappointed than Kevin if my expectations were risen this high. However, social media was social media, it got you into something without having any responsibilities. 

“It is ridiculous.” I put a hand on the back of Kevin’s head. Rubbing

Impressum

Verlag: BookRix GmbH & Co. KG

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 31.05.2020
ISBN: 978-3-7487-4382-8

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About the author: My name is Christine Zhang, this is my first time writing a novel in English. I am an International student from China majoring Communication and Rhetorical Studies at Syracuse University. Hope you enjoy the story as much as I do.