To be victorious, to defeat your enemy, is to proclaim your existence.
The next day passed like any other. Joey couldn't tell if the classes were especially boring or if he was particularly prone to daydreaming this day. He couldn't stop thinking about that hand he played the night before.
He managed to feel something incredible for the first time. It was like he knew what was going to happen from the first moment he sat down at that table, almost as if he was an observer outside the scene, simply watching events unfold, everything firmly in his control.
For so long he had felt like a rudderless raft helplessly drifting atop the stormy sea of others' emotions. He'd long given up struggling with his internal anarchy and had simply learned to shut off his heart and stay away from people. After all, you can't be overloaded by emotions if you close yourself off to everyone. It was lonely but better than the alternative.
However, yesterday it was like he was able to focus all the chaos into one channel for the first time. Limited conditions, limited variables, one pure goal...victory. Everything was clear and calm.
He spent the day wandering like this lost in thought, switching between the school halls and the recesses of his mind. In moments of clarity, he occasionally wondered if others even noticed he was there. Joey was an easy person to ignore.
He wasn't ugly, but not handsome. Short black hair, dark eyes, average build. If you included his low sense of presence which he had cultivated from isolation, it wasn't a surprise if he was usually glanced through.
Finally, awakening from his stupor, he found himself walking past the school cafeteria. 'Oh, it's lunchtime already.'
He glanced inside at all the students as he sighed. He started to walk to the school's outdoor exit when he heard a familiar voice.
"Joey! Hey, over here!" It was Matt again. Joey pretended he hadn't heard him and continuing to march outside when he was stopped by the sudden growl of a massive beast awakening from an eternal slumber.
GRRRRRRRRRRG. He looked down and realized it was his stomach that made the tremendous noise. He hadn't eaten a proper lunch in days. Then he remembered he still had that 100 dollar bill from yesterday, sitting snugly in his pocket.
An empty stomach weighed him down.
'Should I get myself a proper meal for once?'
'...But that'll cost money.'
'No, let's look at it as an investment in the energy sector.'
He debated the pros and cons and chose survival through sustenance. He headed back.
The cafeteria in his high school was quite expansive with numerous sparsely placed long, picnic-style lunch tables. Being in an inner city school, many students would eat lunch outside so it wasn't very packed.
The entire cafeteria, and indeed the whole school itself, embraced off white hues. Joey always felt it resembled an aged lunatic asylum for the clinically insane in training. For some, maybe it was.
"What's up?" Joey greeted him as he approached.
"Yo Joey, you remember the game I showed you yesterday? You should know how to play now right...get in. I even brought some casino-style poker chips from home this time."
Joey's palms clenched when he heard that. That inexplicable feeling he had yesterday was still fresh for him...but then he shook his head. He was about to walk away and get some food when he was disrupted by a grating voice.
"If it isn't the pauper's corner? I didn't know they allowed homeless in here."
A teenager walked up to the empty end of the table. His short blonde hair was so bright it felt like it could give you a sunburn. He was tall with fine facial features, currently warped by the sideways smirk dripping off his face.
His name was Craig. He wore the school's football jersey that players would wear the day before a match as team tradition. Following closely behind him were several of his friends, clad in matching jerseys.
'Damn, are these fools rehearsing a teen drama cliche?' Joey prepared to pull out the popcorn.
"Isn't this a treat...you boys playing poker? What are you playing for, pennies and cigarette butts?" Craig insulted as his friends broke into laughter. In high school, he could be considered to be one of the winners: popular, rich, handsome.
Joey looked at his clothes and around to Matt and the others, and couldn't deny that they indeed came from humble backgrounds. 'He's got a good eye for detail.' Joey nodded his head in appreciation.
Suddenly, a swirl of negative and aggressive feelings started to ferment in his chest.
Joey frowned. 'Just when it was getting good...This is why I stay away from busy places like this.' He was preparing to walk away when he was once again interrupted.
"Hey Fiore, you deaf?!? I asked you a question," Craig snarled.
"What?" Joey responded.
"Do you play poker or are you too busy shining shoes?"
"I wasn't playing, just going to get some food. You and your backup dancers can relax. I'm out." Joey answered as he turned around again.
Craig and his friends exchanged glances with blank faces for several moments before he brushed it off and continued, "Haha yea...that's for the best. You need money to play this game. You're better off go getting your shine box," he dissed as his friends burst into laughter again.
Craig proceeded to take out a wad of 20s from his pocket and slammed it on the table. "Alright which one of you bums wants to play some real poker? Let me know if you need a couple of minutes to pool your pennies together."
Joey knitted his eyebrows. This wasn't the first time Joey had been insulted by Craig and others like him. He usually tried to not take it too seriously, consoling himself that it was just the way of the world, eventually walking away.
However today, no matter how many times he tried to urge his feet, he couldn't move.
Something felt different. He looked down and felt like the 100 in his pocket was burning a hole in it. He had an idea. He cleared his head for a moment, closed his eyes, and suddenly knew exactly what to do.
'I see...I've been taking it too easy. I should know by now that this world won't give me anything. If I want something, I need to seize it with my own hands...even if I have to brutally tear it away from others!'
Craig was still energetically mocking Matt and the others when he was almost jolted back by a slamming sound right by his head. He looked to the side and saw an extended arm posted on the table, covering a crumpled 100 dollar bill.
"You wanted to play, let's play," Joey declared.
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