FFM2-Gen X

The first time they meet is over the hiss of caffeine. The girl with pink hair slides the espresso cup across the counter. Poetry is scrawled over every bare surface with a black sharpie.

“This isn’t what I asked for.”

The girl winks. “Nothing ever is.”

The boy scowls into his drink but takes a sip anyway. He slaps a couple of dollar bills onto the counter. “Keep the change.”

When she stumbles home that evening her front door is spray-painted with lines of Sylvia Plath and T.S. Elliot. The girl spies a signature in the bottom right-hand corner. She laughs and shakes her head.

When she falls into bed that night she dreams of rude boys who learn to appreciate poetry.

Genesis II

The sharpshooter scowls as he lines up the target with the barrel of his gun. He almost feels sorry for the girl. She has pink hair of all things. The chance of him missing this shot is null.

His finger is on the trigger. He hesitates. Something about her feels familiar.

He shrugs off the thought. He has more important things to worry about. His brother is coughing up blood. They need the bounty this kill will provide.

She sinks to the ground at a rate of five centimeters per second. It is the same velocity cherry blossoms fall at.

Genesis III

Her skin is slathered with white glitter. The boy scowls at the ridiculous shoes she’s wearing. Globs of pink neon circulate through the plasma heel.

Her head rests on the shoulder of another man. Every couple of seconds they are drenched in a new color. Her hair morphs from blue to green to her natural pink.

The boy uncurls his fists. They ache from being in that position for so long.

Faye shoves another neon drink into his hand. “You messed up big time, kid.”

The drink glows as it slides down his throat. “I don’t need you to tell me that.”

Faye whistles low. “Word of advice? Walk away. When you left she moved on.”

 “I’m here now.”

 Faye raises an eyebrow.

 He slams the glass back onto the counter. “My brother was dying. I had no choice.”

“Well, he’s dead. So now you have a choice.”

He glances back at the girl’s laughing form. Her painted nails grip the other guy’s wrist. “I’ve already chosen.”

Faye follows his line of sight and sighs. “Then go tell her.”

The boy slides off the barstool. “I will.”

Genesis IV

The shop bell rings. The girl tilts her flower laden hat toward the customer. Her hair clashes horribly with the chosen blossoms. She’d stolen the hat from Faye and was contemplating returning it.

The boy stands in the lip of the door clothed in a smart suit. His right foot is one step in and the other one step out.

The girl checks her pocket watch and beams. “You have a wish.”

He steps into the shop. The door swings shut behind him. His expression is wry as he takes in the old antiques lining the shelves. His eyes linger on a jade pendant carved into a cherry blossom.  “I was told you could help.”

The girl peers into his dark eyes. They suck the breath out of her lungs. Her gaze drops to his polished shoes. “You won’t be able to save him.”

His fingers clench and unclench. He walks out of the shop without another word. The bell chimes behind him.

She sees him at the cemetery a week later.

Genesis V

The boy decks the pilot. He slumps into the controls. The boy tosses him off the plane before it leaves the ground.

He buckles himself in and takes off into the sky. The cargo is nothing but explosives. They are seconds away from detonating. If he can steer the plane high enough no one will have to die today.

He grips the wheel tight. A spot of turbulence sends a photo fluttering out of a hidden compartment.

A girl with pink hair smiles at him. It is the last thing he sees before the plane explodes.

Genesis VI

“They call it a genetic mutation.” She tosses her shorn locks back. “It’s mostly just an excuse.”

He scowls at the box of black hair dye. “Are you sure?”

 “I can’t keep running.”

The boy tosses the box into the garbage bin. “That’s exactly what you’re doing now.”

Tears dribble down her chin. “I’m tired. I don’t know what else to do. You know I can’t go back.” She grips the edge of the sink. “I don’t belong anywhere. I’m just a freak of nature.”

“My brother was like you but not as strong. They killed him because he had a defect.” He pulls her hands away from the sink and holds them between his. “We won’t run. We’ll fight.”

Genesis VII

They haven't seen sunlight in nearly seven days. She presses her lips against his matted brow. “Are you awake?”

He closes his eyes and doesn’t answer.

She laughs into his pillow. “How do you feel?”

He ignores her.

She bites her lip and rests her head against his chest. The sound is faint but steady.

“Maybe, we could be happy in another world.”

“I don’t believe in parallel universes.”

She pulls back. The back of her hands wipe away the moisture in her eyes.  “I do. In an infinite number of universes there must be one where we get everything right. Where we meet like normal people. Where no one dies. A world where I stop you on the street because I want to talk to you.”

“Maybe.”

He doesn’t want to give her false hope.

Genesis VIII

She leaves behind a bouquet of cherry blossoms on the hotel pillow. He’ll probably toss them out when he wakes.

Genesis IX

He walks past an action/thriller movie poster on his way to work. The main actress has the indecency to be born with pink hair. He thinks she’s overrated.

Genesis X

“Excuse me but have we met before?”