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Help, there's a boy in my brain Solo Finished

A few days after the events of Wanna Play?


Ping-pong, ping-pong.

There's this machine, right, what's called an Perpetuum Mobile. It's a thing that never loses energy and they say it can't be made, but they're wrong. I've got one in my head.

I've been thinking about Gideon today. Yesterday too, and the day before that.

I hear his name in my head over and over. It's like a ping-pong pan (try saying that ten times quick), that's a thing in music which bounces sound between the left and right speaker. It's like that. I hear Gideon in my left ear, Athanatos in my right: ping, pong.

Ping-pong, ping-pong, ping-pong.

I can't make it stop, see.

He's in fourth yur, so I guess he's fourteen, but he doesn't look it—that's the first thing anyone notices about him. Angelic, they say. Cherubic. Which is the most ridiculous word in the entire universe because cherubs are those fat babies in Renaissance paintings, and Gideon is definitely not a fat baby. He's blonde and he's in Hufflepuff, and when you see him, you just want to give him a cwtch1.

He's really odd though.

When I think of him, I think of Dan Brown's Angels & Demons, which is a swell book, but I mean the title, not the story. It's like that riddle he left me with: I wear many faces, but only one is true.. Which one is it? I can't be sure because our conversation was really odd if you think about it, I don't think I've ever had a conversation like that before, it was well weird.

(Someone's handing out hot chocolate, hang on.)

OK, I'm back.

If I blow myself up in potions class today and all that's left of me is this bit of writing, I want to pass along a message to all thirteen-year-olds: kissing's not all it's made out to be. It tastes and feels exactly what you'd think skin to taste and feel like, and it's over in a second. There are no stars or butterflies, that's bollocks, I just bumped my nose on his cheek and smelled something soapy. I guess that's my tip for you: make sure you kiss someone who smells nice, because that'll be the most memorable thing about it.

It wasn't part of the plan. I never thought about kissing him like I did with June. Isn't that odd? I've imagined what it'd be like to kiss June, but that's never happened, and I've never thought about kissing Gideon before, yet that wound up happening. It makes no bloody sense.

And why'd I kiss him on the cheek?

What kind of thirteen-year-old does that? I'm not his mam, am I? Mams give kisses on the cheeks, nannies and nains do, toddlers do, but boys? It's just awkward. I don't even fancy him, he's not even handsome, but he's not ugly either. I guess if I was a girl, I might think he looks a bit cute.

I'm not a girl though, there's one thing I'm pretty sure about.

Maybe I did it because he's blonde.

I think I like blondes know I do, and that's pretty scary, 'cause there's a lot of them and I can't possibly fancy them all, can I? I saw one in the library the other day, a girl, blonde (duh), second-year I think. She got me thinking about June again, see, and I don't want to be thinking about June again.

Ping-pong, ping-pong. It's still going, but now June's in there too.

What are all these people I don't like doing in my head?

It's driving me mad, it is, like I've got powercords running through me and everything's buzzing. You know the feeling, when you pull a woollen sweater over your head and you hear it crackle, and you know you're charged up and the next thing you touch will zap you.

Something's going to zap me, but I don't know what, just that it'll hurt bloody awful like.

I've still got half the smoke Mirador gave me. I've been keeping it for a special occasion. Today's not special, it's cold and rainy, nothing out of the ordinary: if I go outside now, I might freeze to death. Again, nothing out of the ordinary.

I don't want to go outside. I wonder if anyone will anyone notice the smell if I crack the window open in the dorms.

Guess I'll find out.

[1] Cwtch - pronounced cootch, Welsh-English for cuddle or hug.


@Gideon Athanatos, @June Selwyn
"He's a dweeby chocolate bar lip smacking nerd" - Evelynn Decipio
Help, there's a boy in my brain Solo Finished
December 12th
(13th now actually - can't sleep)


He's back. Gideon that is.

Now I know what those butterflies are supposed to mean. I wouldn't call them butterflies though, butterflies don't buzz, and they're not in my stomach either. Bees buzz and they buzz all over. Or mabye it's more like massive hornets, the invasive ones.

He wrote me this letter. Dead sweet, it was. Called me "wonderful" and "the best" and said he was proud of me getting an A in Divination. Which is mental because an A is just Acceptable, which is basically saying "you didn't completely cock it up." But when he wrote it, it felt different. Special, like. Apparently I'm making him feel special too, which is well weird to think about.

Here's something I've never written down before: boys can be pretty. Not all boys. Just some. Gideon's cute. There. Wrote it down. Can't take it back now. It's not just me who thinks it - everyone says how charming he is, how sweet he looks. Even when he's being childish and walking around with stuffies. Honest, that's probably just a Hufflepuff thing 'cause I know George's friend, Jake, also carried stuffies around for a long time.

Told you he was back in my head.

But I'm not that stupid.

Not always.

I might fumble my times tables, but I'm not so bad with people. I'd rather be smart if I'm honest, but that's not the point. The point is that Gideon is in on The Game, and he's brilliant at it. He's got me feeling all warm and fuzzy, he's got me wide awake in the dead of night, he's got me writing whatever this is.

I reckon he knows we're playing. I even reckon he knows that I know we're playing.

See, it wears off after a while, his letter, the charm that is. Now I'm realising I'm on the backfoot. It's like he knows exactly what to say to me to disarm me, to distract me, to make me feel good, and that's very dangerous. I've got to be very careful. I've got to have a plan.

This is Special Agent Connor, reporting in.

I did some more digging yesterday and found not one, but four real gems in the library (his family is so shady, but now I know why Mathias looks quite different from Gideon at least).

Reading the papers got me thinking, not just about what's in those articles, but about papers in general. It wasn't too long ago that Mathias and Winnie had a whole article in the Daily Prophet dedicated to that stupid marriage proposal. Knowing the greasy cunt, I bet Mathias orchestrated it all, I bet he wanted it to be in the papers, I wonder if he wrote half of it himself (he's probably too lazy for that).

That got me thinking about papers though, and about Gideon, and about his fucked-up family. If you start looking, you find out they're all over the news, that's why they're so well-known.

The thing about Gideon is, he thinks he's ten steps ahead of everyone. But maybe, just maybe, I'm eleven steps ahead of him. We're going to Hogsmeade next weekend. Honeydukes will be packed with Christmas shoppers, and I've got this idea... well, it's Mathias's idea really...

We're going to be famous.
Note for mods: I realise I had already tagged this thread as finished, but since it's not yet locked and this quasi-journal-entry would fit well within this thread, I figured I would just post it here. If need be I can always move it into it's own thread.

@Gideon Athanatos - this is a journal-like reaction to Gideon's letter back.
"He's a dweeby chocolate bar lip smacking nerd" - Evelynn Decipio
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