Personal Narrative Fiction

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Have you ever started two music tracks at the same time, the same track, but one plays at a slightly slower pace? If you haven't, try it. You'll notice the fact the second one, while starting out in time and vaguely normal, slowly, slowly, excruciatingly slowly, becomes out of time with the first one. At first, barely noticeable. Then just slightly irritating. Then quite clearly not keeping up. By the time the first one finishes, you're just so frustrated with the second because you don't possibly understand how something that started out so fine could possibly be lagging so far behind. That's like Jack's life. Started out normal, the same pace as everyone else. But while they're playing along, mingling in harmony, he's just a fraction out…show more content…
If he were music, he'd be something electronic. The type you'd get at a club: really fucking weird, but really fucking catchy, the type that just lifts your heart because you don't need to remember the words, don't need to even know the song to have fun dancing along to it. Felix is exactly like that. You don't need to know him to want to spend hours with him, to have fun and have him lift your heavy heart instantly. It's the reason Jack was drawn to him, the reason why he actually managed to keep in touch with him. That might be a lie, in fact; the reason they kept in touch was because Felix made 95% of the effort to keep in contact with him within the first 2 months of their friendship until he didn't feel so annoying when he initiated a conversation. When Jack asked him why, Felix simply said, “You need someone.” And then a victory screech as he scored a goal in Rocket League. Like it was that simple. He's good people. He lives in another country, so late night Skype calls and gaming marathons are all they get, but seeing as Jack works from home, it's not a big deal. He runs on time, but that's okay. His head's in Switzerland and his body in America and he's not quite sure where his heart is. He isn't sure he has one.

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