Conflict (Cont 2)
This was the third time that week that Andrew had chosen to stop by the arcade on the way to his University classes, and despite.. actually, because of the fact that it usually made him late, it would not be the last. Exiting the dark cavern that was the entrance to the arcade, he adjusted his glasses, while tossing his light brown hair away from his eyes. The sunlight shining down was a bit of a change from the arcade, and took a little adjusting. The sidewalk was pretty empty, a few people wandering some distance away, downtown to do some shopping, or on a break out to get a coffee. Andrew stretched, his small frame letting loose a few cracks and pops from the tension of the previous game. Andrew caught his reflection in the window of the next store. He sighed. Most people would have described him as “average”. Frankly, he would be inclined to agree. At the moment, he felt like the amalgamation of every early 20s, university student, white, middle class, male in existence. His default emotion was apathy, broken by bouts of depression or frustrated anger. Oh, and the world sucks, in case you didn’t know.
If you pushed a little further, you’d also probably find that he didn’t really feel that way most of the time, and was only in such an agitated state because of a few select reasons, but few people seemed willing to push further. The name of the game was coasting, and he was doing pretty well at it, all things considered. If you care for that kind of thing.
Andrew stopped suddenly. Behind him, there was the distinct absence of noise, which clearly indicated that somewhere between the back of the arcade and the sidewalk he had lost his companion. The lack of another reflection in the window helped too. This was not so much surprising as annoying. He quickly checked his watch, noticed that a new lateness record was about to be achieved, and decided that he had better be quick about finding Jason. Not that he had any difficulty imagining what had happened to him, mind.
The heavy wooden door gave off a medieval vibe, which Andrew supposed was the intent, seeing as how the sign above the doorframe claimed the establishment to be called “The Dragon’s Den”. In the upper right corner a red winged lizard breathed fire across the sign, while a small armored figure took cover in the lower left. Sadly, the effect was quickly ruined by the cheap lighted signs found on the other side, describing various party prices, hourly rates and featuring ads for products that were not sold in the arcade. Oh, and there was graffiti all over the door as well, which was equally effective at dispelling the illusion. Nobody in the middle ages randomly wrote ‘fuck’ on buildings, did they? The lanky teen, still stuck in his book failed to make any indication of noticing the chimes on the door ring as Andrew reentered.
Andrew had been coming to the Dragon’s Den since he was in grade school, albeit not very often, usually just for birthday parties and whatnot. Unlike most arcades, it offered a pay by the hour option, which worked out pretty well for his friends parents who could toss the party there for an hour or two of peace. He had always imagined when he was young that when he went to university he’d attend he downtown campus, simply because it was located a block away from the arcade. As he grew up, his attraction to the arcade waxed and waned, as other arcades opened and closed, home game systems were bought and broken and as his own interest in videogames shifted. It had won him back the previous year when a new owner took over and imported a bunch of off-the-wall Japanese imports, but now most of them were mastered or in serious need of repair, and Andrew almost felt as if his interest was merely conditioned. Always have to check, see if anything is new, check if his high scores are still holding up, play a game or two. The teenager behind the counter finally looked up from his book.
“Asshole, didn’t you just leave?’
Anthony was the owner’s son, and he and Andrew had spent the great deal of time both of them had in the arcade to grow a great dislike for each other. Andrew mostly just resented the fact that Anthony had such a great, easy job, and spent a great deal of time telling anyone who would listen how much it sucked, while Anthony… well, as far as Andrew could tell, Anthony was just a disagreeable asshole who didn’t like anybody. That may or may not have also had something to do with Andrew’s occasionally standoffish nature. Who can tell about these things? Besides the arcade, the two also often saw each other at school, as they both were in the same Calculus and History class. Their relationship wasn’t helped out much there, as Andrew took the role of resident apathetic slacker , passing by the seat of his pants while Anthony was the resident math prodigy, and never afraid to let you know about it.
This had all come to a head a few months before at the start of the school year, when Andrew was talking to a girl in the history class whom he had been in classes with before. Both of them were taking the class to fill out some pre-requisites, and Andrew was just finishing a particularly embarrassing diatribe (with his back pointed to the door) when he suddenly learned that Anthony was taking that class as well. Stories would later differ, but he mentioned something about “a smart ass ugly jerk wad” which became a bit of a point of contention. Both of them were also interested in the poor girl in the story as well, which led to even more tension, and inevitably, more. In the end, Andrew had a black eye (just recently healed), Anthony’s long nose was put crooked (to stay) and Heather Mayers decided they were both jerks (and still does). Between that time and this one, their attentions had moved past each other, although it would be a great exaggeration to say that they now got along. Needless to say Andrew took every occasion to call Anthony ‘man’, something he for some reasons hated (“Come on, man!” “Jesus fucking Christ! STOP IT!”) and Anthony, for some strange reasons, remained hostile towards him.
If you pushed a little further, you’d also probably find that he didn’t really feel that way most of the time, and was only in such an agitated state because of a few select reasons, but few people seemed willing to push further. The name of the game was coasting, and he was doing pretty well at it, all things considered. If you care for that kind of thing.
Andrew stopped suddenly. Behind him, there was the distinct absence of noise, which clearly indicated that somewhere between the back of the arcade and the sidewalk he had lost his companion. The lack of another reflection in the window helped too. This was not so much surprising as annoying. He quickly checked his watch, noticed that a new lateness record was about to be achieved, and decided that he had better be quick about finding Jason. Not that he had any difficulty imagining what had happened to him, mind.
The heavy wooden door gave off a medieval vibe, which Andrew supposed was the intent, seeing as how the sign above the doorframe claimed the establishment to be called “The Dragon’s Den”. In the upper right corner a red winged lizard breathed fire across the sign, while a small armored figure took cover in the lower left. Sadly, the effect was quickly ruined by the cheap lighted signs found on the other side, describing various party prices, hourly rates and featuring ads for products that were not sold in the arcade. Oh, and there was graffiti all over the door as well, which was equally effective at dispelling the illusion. Nobody in the middle ages randomly wrote ‘fuck’ on buildings, did they? The lanky teen, still stuck in his book failed to make any indication of noticing the chimes on the door ring as Andrew reentered.
Andrew had been coming to the Dragon’s Den since he was in grade school, albeit not very often, usually just for birthday parties and whatnot. Unlike most arcades, it offered a pay by the hour option, which worked out pretty well for his friends parents who could toss the party there for an hour or two of peace. He had always imagined when he was young that when he went to university he’d attend he downtown campus, simply because it was located a block away from the arcade. As he grew up, his attraction to the arcade waxed and waned, as other arcades opened and closed, home game systems were bought and broken and as his own interest in videogames shifted. It had won him back the previous year when a new owner took over and imported a bunch of off-the-wall Japanese imports, but now most of them were mastered or in serious need of repair, and Andrew almost felt as if his interest was merely conditioned. Always have to check, see if anything is new, check if his high scores are still holding up, play a game or two. The teenager behind the counter finally looked up from his book.
“Asshole, didn’t you just leave?’
Anthony was the owner’s son, and he and Andrew had spent the great deal of time both of them had in the arcade to grow a great dislike for each other. Andrew mostly just resented the fact that Anthony had such a great, easy job, and spent a great deal of time telling anyone who would listen how much it sucked, while Anthony… well, as far as Andrew could tell, Anthony was just a disagreeable asshole who didn’t like anybody. That may or may not have also had something to do with Andrew’s occasionally standoffish nature. Who can tell about these things? Besides the arcade, the two also often saw each other at school, as they both were in the same Calculus and History class. Their relationship wasn’t helped out much there, as Andrew took the role of resident apathetic slacker , passing by the seat of his pants while Anthony was the resident math prodigy, and never afraid to let you know about it.
This had all come to a head a few months before at the start of the school year, when Andrew was talking to a girl in the history class whom he had been in classes with before. Both of them were taking the class to fill out some pre-requisites, and Andrew was just finishing a particularly embarrassing diatribe (with his back pointed to the door) when he suddenly learned that Anthony was taking that class as well. Stories would later differ, but he mentioned something about “a smart ass ugly jerk wad” which became a bit of a point of contention. Both of them were also interested in the poor girl in the story as well, which led to even more tension, and inevitably, more. In the end, Andrew had a black eye (just recently healed), Anthony’s long nose was put crooked (to stay) and Heather Mayers decided they were both jerks (and still does). Between that time and this one, their attentions had moved past each other, although it would be a great exaggeration to say that they now got along. Needless to say Andrew took every occasion to call Anthony ‘man’, something he for some reasons hated (“Come on, man!” “Jesus fucking Christ! STOP IT!”) and Anthony, for some strange reasons, remained hostile towards him.
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