:| More or Less |: {Kiah}

[ᕙʕ•ᴥ•ʔᕗ]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: 000E0F; border: 021924 solid 0px; width: 475px; padding: 0 0 0 0px] Yes, finally! As I peeked my head outside of the room, I looked back and forth, making sure that Ma wasn’t going to step out and berate me again for thinking I was “entitled to yet another break”. Sure, maybe I could have been more productive if I just stayed in the room all day and wrote down the algorithms that were in my head, but what type of life was that? After seventeen years of being able to see the numbers, I wanted to shut down for an afternoon and actually be with my family. I had so many siblings, yet I felt like I hadn’t seen them in days. Really, the only interaction I had was with Ma as she discussed my future for me. It wasn’t easy to tune out the numbers, and after years of trying, I simply gave up. It was just more hard work, and I honestly hated working more than I had to. But I did find out that the numbers were just like objects; if I stared at nothing in particular, they would become a blur in my vision. It sufficed at times, but I knew they were still there as I could see the numbers plastered on parts of the wall, equations that were supposed to mean something. They were just so frustrating. I walked into the living room to sit down for a few hours and found Red already there. He used to have clear vision, “Jay vision” as I’m sure someone called it, but now his eyes looked empty and sad. We were still not sure how he lost his sight as he won’t tell us, but he’s changed since then. Most of the family would look at him with sad eyes and coo when they talk to him, and sure, I’ve done my share of pity talk too. It’s hard when you see your brother just sitting there and not reading the dictionary like he used to. He was going to be a “smart Jay” too, one who excelled at school, and then his life was turned upside down. But really, I envied him. He would keep saying how all he could see was darkness, how the world was so dark now, and as I listened to him, I wanted to experience that too. Just staring at the back of his head— I hated it when that happened. I knew my siblings were more than numbers, but they were composed of numbers and I always saw that. It was strange as a child when I would ask Ma or Pa why Mocking had 66, 27, and 9 on his face. They had laughed it off, thinking I was speaking gibberish. I guess for anybody else, the numbers wouldn’t make sense but 66 was the percentage his eyes were away from his chin, 27 mm was the width of his nose at the time, and 9 was the number of freckles he had on his left cheek. That was how I understood Mocking. When I saw Red, I could see the numbers on his face too, except his eyes. I didn’t know if it was true, but I believed that if I looked at a blind person in the eyes, I wouldn’t be able to see numbers there. It was crazy, but it was the only explanation I could think of. A small smile appeared on my face as I flopped down on the couch next to Red. “Hey, kid, what’s up?” I didn’t know if Red would talk to me. As a kid he was usually happy, but since he lost his sight, he became angry and snappy and really a pain to talk to. I guess I would feel that way too if I lost my—no, I wouldn’t. I was certain the experience would be painful and maybe a little sad, but to see nothing was a hell of a lot better than seeing more than I should be. Red and I had definitely gotten our share of arguments in the past, and most of it had to do with vision. We were the Jays with the different eyes, so shouldn’t we have been in solidarity? We were supposed to understand each other, but instead, we just ended up fighting. How was I supposed to know what the darkness was doing to him and how was he supposed to know what the numbers were doing to me? We might have had “different eyes” but we knew nothing of each other’s experiences. “Here, take a sip of this,” I held up the bottle of juice in my hand, a concoction I had made up the night before when I found out we were running out of everything. I just combined the best-looking numbers—er, colors—and eventually it came out some weird-ish number: I thought it was alright, but the others who tried it thought it was horrible. I really didn’t know how else to talk to Red—he just seemed like he wanted to be left alone—so I sat there awkwardly before shrugging it off. As long as I could have my afternoon off, I was solid.

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: 312C17; border: 021924 solid 0px; width: 475px; padding: 0 0 12 0px] STELLAR JAY | JAY FAMILY PLOT | PLAYED BY: TOM HUGHES

[k!ah]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, background-color:#f4f4f4; width:400px; padding:8px; border: 8px solid #9b6464;] Lost and scared... Losing what he most desires... ...TURNS HIS LIFE AROUND.... Red Jay I felt the usual surge of uneasiness run through me as I pull my eyes open in the morning, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I process nothing but the darkness that surrounds me, consuming me, surrounding me and poking at me, laughing as I thrash my arms around in the useless attempt to make it disappear. For a while now I have woken up only to find myself in the same position. It scared me. I hated the darkness that was now my world. I hated the way it pressed down around me, a constant reminder of what had happen the night, the constant reminder of my biggest nightmare. I begged for sleep to come back to me, I pleaded with it, hoping that it would come, come and take me away. In my dreams darkness didn’t have a hold over me, in my dreams I was free. Magic. Happiness. Fairies. All of those little magical creatures wandered my dreams at night, reminding me that not all was lost. I lay in bed, waiting for sleep to take me, waiting or the darkness to give way to a world where I could escape. But no matter how long I lay in my bed, the straw mattress digging into tender parts of my body, sleep refused to come. It refused to take me away. Who’s side are you on? I think, darkness’s?. With a frustrated sigh I haul myself to my feet, my toes searching for my shoes. It takes me a few moments to find them, my feet sliding into the worn material. Slowly I pull the rest of my body off my bed. In my room I felt more at ease. I felt like I was alone. In my room I could relax, I didn’t need to worry about people judging looks, or other looking at me with pity. In my room I was free to make mistakes. There was no one here to judge. My feet take me easily to my door, knowing the path like the back of my hand, (not that I knew my hand that well at all… but that’s beside the point). I collide with nothing my fingers coming around the cool metal of the door knob. Smiling in triumph I pull the door open and slide into the hallway where I freeze before taking a step towards the stairs, the smile sliding instantly from my lips. My steps are hesitant as I wander down the hallway my hands braced on the walls. It didn’t matter that I knew the path off my heart, it didn’t matter that I knew where the stairs started or where they ended, but that didn’t stop the uneasiness that entered my veins spreading through me like a wild fire. The uneasiness grew as I reached the stairs, my feet hanging on the edge of the first step. Deep breathes come on. In… and out… in… out. It is not that difficult. You have done hundreds of time before. Finally gathering enough courage I let my foot drop onto the first step. Then the next. Then the next, until I was at the bottom. I felt my uneasiness fade as I place both my feet onto level ground. See not that hard, reassuring myself I head off towards the living room, hoping to find comfort from the familiar feel of the couches material against my skin. I knew it sounded ridiculous, finding comfort from a couch, but people have different ways of dealing with things, and for me? I seek out things that I find familiar. Things that I know would not have changed since the last time my eyes allowed me to see. My feet scrape across the ground, the sound bouncing off the walls of the silent house. I listen intently to the sound, thankful that my hearing was better than ever. I do not know what I would do if I were to lose my sight and my hearing. I would be lost. Lost in a world of darkness and silence. A shiver runs through me, but I tuck the thought deep into the back of my mind, letting my mind focus on the task at hand: finding the living room. My hand runs along the wall beside me, searching for the doorway that would lead me to my destination. My fingers catch a gap in the wall, and I fling my body towards it, entering the room, stumbling slightly. Regaining my balance I wander over to the couch, pulling my body into the soft material. I felt my body relax slightly, leaning into the familiar shape of the couch. I let my mind wander, trying to picture the room I sat in, but no matter how hard I probed at my mind, nothing came, all I could see is the darkness as it closed in around me, refusing to let me see anything. Suddenly I felt the weight of another person flop onto the couch. My body stiffens immediately, but I try not to move away. “Hey, kid, what’s up?” The sound of Stellars voice slips into my mind and my body relaxes slightly, before instantly tensing up again. Stellar and I didn’t always get along. Our conversations always seem to end with me storming away, tears in my sightless eyes. We argue about whom had it worse off, and it frustrated me. I didn’t want to talk about my sight, or his sight, or about who’s was worse. I just wanted to try and forget about my sight. I wanted to try and forget that I was blind. “Here, take a sip of this,” He says, sloshing the liquid around before holding it out to me. I turned my sightless eyes on him and tried to not to let an annoyed expression form on my face. It was not his fault. It was not his fault that my sight was screwed up. Not his fault. I reminded myself. I wasn’t sure if I should take the bottle form his hand, I didn’t know what was in it, and wasn’t sure if I wanted to find out. I have to try and make this work. Finally I take the bottle from his hands, determined not to let my annoyance get the better of me. He just wanted to get to know me better. He just wanted to have a normal conversation with me. He wanted to treat me like a I was normal. “What is it?” I ask before taking a small sip of the liquid.

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this lovely template was made by Arro from Caution 2.0[/td][/tr][/table][/center]

[ᕙʕ•ᴥ•ʔᕗ]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: 000E0F; border: 021924 solid 0px; width: 475px; padding: 0 0 0 0px] The problem with Red was I never knew what would happen next. Yes, I could have tried to read his expressions, understand his movements, but couldn’t I just talk to my brother as I did before he lost his sight? There was a time when I was happy to be around him, to have someone who was willing to chew the words for me. Now, all I could see was this little kid who could become angry at any moment. I always thought his anger was wrong, that his frustration was aimed at the wrong people, but he would never believe that. Or maybe he did. Maybe this anger was too difficult to contain and maybe it was only because I could see how wrong the calculations were that I thought it was wrong. Maybe it was wrong for me to say this, but I was relieved when Red took the bottle. I had half-expected him to push it away, yell at me for some reason, and that our argument would eventually lead to something about sight and bring half the family to the room. I sure as hell was lazy, but I wasn’t going to give up a fight either. Instead, Red asked me what was in it—a question I myself was trying to answer—and took a small sip. It brought a bit of a smile to my face to see that Red was trying something unfamiliar. I saw him in the living room a lot, and while I agreed that that room had the best spatial arrangement, I had a feeling that Red was there for a different reason. I never would have asked him as I do try to tread lightly sometimes, but it always had me wondering. “It’s just a bunch of juices that I mixed last night.” Did I really forget? Or was I just having trouble picturing it? While numbers and letters appeared on their own, images from memory were always fuzzy and difficult to make sense of. I knew the position of the juices by the numbers, but I doubted that Red would understand the string of numbers that came from my mouth. “I could tell you exactly which…but that requires walking to the kitchen,” I chuckled. Ma always called me the “lazy, ungrateful arse”—I thought that was her way of trying to motivate me—and while I hardly viewed myself as ungrateful, I conceded that I could be lazy. I sneaked a peek to see what Red’s reaction was to the juice. “If you don’t like it, you don’t have to keep drinking it. No one else seems to like it, but I wanted to see what you think.” That’s what he wants, right? To be included? Sometimes I was a little glad that Red wasn’t able to see my expressions because I had a feeling that I was pretty readable, but I was also terrible at reading expressions myself so what was to say that vision helped in any way? I leaned in a little close, a playful smile on my face that I knew he wouldn’t see but wish he could, and said, “Do you want some more? You can have the rest of it.” Yes, I wanted my little brother back. While Violet was the widely accepted “baby of the family”, Red and I had enough years between us that I saw him as a “baby” too. Of course, he would have hated if I ever treated him like one, even before his blindness, but at least he accepted it grudgingly then. If I tried that on him now, there was always the chance that his temper would burst and he would start shouting. I wanted to tell him that I wasn’t doing it out of pity—I was doing it because he was my kid brother—but it was difficult to tell the difference sometimes and with the rest of the family babying him, I knew he would think it was pity.

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: 312C17; border: 021924 solid 0px; width: 475px; padding: 0 0 12 0px] STELLAR JAY | JAY FAMILY PLOT | PLAY BY: TOM HUGHES

[k!ah]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, background-color:#f4f4f4; width:400px; padding:8px; border: 8px solid #9b6464;] Lost and scared... Losing what he most desires... ...TURNS HIS LIFE AROUND.... Red Jay I let the liquid slide over my tongue, sending my taste buds into a frenzy. It was like nothing I have tasted before. The way it danced over my tastebuds sent a shiver through my body. I wasn’t sure if I like the feeling, or the taste. But I wasn’t sure if I hated it either. I took another sip, thinking that if I tried again, that I would be able to determine whether I liked it all not. Again, my tongue buzzed, shivers sliding through my whole body. Nope. That didn’t help. I was still unsure about the feeling that it sent through me, but the taste was another situation. It tasted bitter sweet as it slide down my throat, leaving behind a rather weird after taste. My face screws up slightly as I pull the bottle away from my lips, running my tongue over them. “It’s just a bunch of juices that I mixed last night.” His voice seems slightly distance as he tried to remember what he had put into the drink. I have never really understood Stellar, the way he see’s things, it was different from mine, but similar in a way. He was trapped too, trapped behind the numbers and equations that danced crossed his vision. Shrugging the thought away he continued on with the conversation, “I could tell you exactly which…but that requires walking to the kitchen.” He chuckles as the words slip from his mouth. With some effort I hide the smile that nearly sneaks onto my lips. Stellar the genius. Stellar the lazy pig. Yeah Stellar was the smartest of the Jays, but he was also the laziest. I roll my eyes, and subconsciously bring the bottle to my lips taking another sip. As soon as the liquid touches my tongue I almost spit it out, but manage to swallow it, my face scrunching up one more. Hastily I place the bottle on the couch between the two of us, determined not to have another sip of the vile liquid. “If you don’t like it, you don’t have to keep drinking it. No one else seems to like it, but I wanted to see what you think.” His voice slices into my thoughts resurfacing me. No one else liked it? Well that wasn’t a surprise, it was not one of the most pleasant drinks. “Do you want some more? You can have the rest of it.” The question caught me by surprise. I didn’t want the drink. I hated it, and the thought of drinking the rest made me feel sick to the stomach. But was that the point of this whole conversation? Was it really about the drink, and on whether or not I wanted to drink it, or was it something else, something Deeper? “Sure.” I croak, my voice still award from coking on the juice. “Thanks,” I finish clearing my throat. I urn my sightless gaze towards where I believe Stellar is sitting. I tried to form an image of him, sitting there on the couch next to me. I see him slouching, his long arms and legs hanging lazily over the edges of the couch. I imagine a half smile on his lips, the gentle tilt of one corner. But just as the image comes clear it starts to dissolve, leaving me staring at nothing but the darkness the surrounds me. Nearly had it. I nearly had him. A wave of annoyance crashes over my small body. I had nearly beaten the darkness. After a moment I realise that I was still staring at Stellar and pull my gaze away, staring at the material that made the couch. “Why aren’t you in your room? You know ma will kill you if she sees you out,” I say, trying to joke. The feeling is foreign as it rolls over my tongue, but I try not to show how uncomfortable I feel about try to make a joke. Joke were never something that I really took part it, usually I was boiling with rage, or some other negative emotion that would end up making me scream and shout, before storming out of a room.

[/justify][/size][/color]

this lovely template was made by Arro from Caution 2.0[/td][/tr][/table][/center]

[ᕙʕ•ᴥ•ʔᕗ]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: 000E0F; border: 021924 solid 0px; width: 475px; padding: 0 0 0 0px] I watched with an excited expression as the numbers started shifting on Red’s face as he tried the drink. I wasn’t excited about the numbers, but rather what they meant would tell me whether Red thought it was good or not. I never made any interpretations, though, and found it hilarious that he would roll his eyes at me while taking another sip. The expression on his face was priceless as I watched it scrunch up again. He left the bottle on the couch and I capped it before speaking again. His response made me laugh harder, because I knew he didn’t want to drink it. Guess I’ll have to finish the drink on my own then. I really don’t understand what’s so bad about it. “Kid, I’m not going to force you to drink it. Like I said, you don’t have to keep drinking it.” I saw that Red was staring at me, and just as I saw no numbers in his eyes, I was certain that he couldn’t actually see me. But a part of me wanted to believe that he could, that his eyes were empty of numbers because they were just that special. I was still envious of his sight—darkness seemed welcoming right now—but for my brother? He was a kid and his eyes were doing great for him. Yes, I wasn’t going to back down if I said that he was the luckier one, but I didn’t know what seeing was like without those pesky digits so by what standard was I judging luck? Envy? Jealousy? I was told once that we were always jealous of what we couldn’t have, and it was true. I was jealous of what I didn’t have and what I didn’t know, just because it sounded so good, so refreshing. But I wouldn’t get mad, not if I wanted to spend quality time with my little brother. I was surprised that Red knew about my issues with Ma; the house was so busy to begin with and even though we were all relatively close, I still spent most of my time in my room or hiding from Ma. Then again, Ma pressuring me to work was also pretty well-known within the household, so it shouldn’t have been that much of a surprise. “Well, I was in my room and I thought maybe it was a good time to have a break.” The fifth one of the day. “Ah, you’re not going to tell on me, right?” It really didn’t matter if he did tell Ma that I was out of my room, because she had caught me so many times that I was numb to her punishments. What she never realized was that I could take the pain—I was just really lazy. A soft chuckle escaped me as I ruffled my brother’s hair like I used to when I was younger and had no time to talk to him. “Look at that! You just made a joke, even if it probably is true that Ma would kill me.” It was dangerous waters and I braced myself for Red’s reaction, but I had to say it because hell, my little brother just said a joke. I took a sip of the drink that was still sitting on the couch. I really didn’t understand what the problem of the drink was; it tasted just fine to me and the number looked nice enough. “But seriously, as much as I can take Ma smacking my head, her lectures would just bore me to death. So if Ma asks, I was never here.”

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: 312C17; border: 021924 solid 0px; width: 475px; padding: 0 0 12 0px] STELLAR JAY | JAY FAMILY PLOT | PLAY BY: TOM HUGHES

[k!ah]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, background-color:#f4f4f4; width:400px; padding:8px; border: 8px solid #9b6464;] Lost and scared... Losing what he most desires... ...TURNS HIS LIFE AROUND.... Red Jay Laughter fills the air, it was similar to a chuckle, deep and full of an odd sense of warmth. “Kid, I’m not going to force you to drink it. Like I said, you don’t have to keep drinking it.” His voice was light, and I could only guess that a smile was plastered to his young handsome face. Once more I try to summon the brother I used to know. I try to remember his ace, the colour of his eyes, the way his hair fell across his face. But no matter how hard I tried the darkness that surrounded me ate anything thing that I would summon, leaving my staring at the darkness that has been my world. The darkness that has now taken me hostage. Sometimes I wonder weather I will ever get my sight back. I wonder if this life I am living is really all just a dream, a dream to get me to understand how much things so stupid, so little, can actually be the things that you should cherish the most. When I had the ability of vision, I never thought that one day that ability would be gone. I thought that would be impossible, that this ability to see would stay with me forever and ever. But now I realise how much I took that ability for granted. I never appreciated the way that my vision enabled me to feel, to act. I never took the time to appreciate the beauty of the world I lived in… and now, now I regret not taking that one last look at all the people that had meant to much to me. I regret not being able to recall simple features, features that should almost be like a sixth sense. Once more I try to remember the colour of the eyes of the person who sat next to me, and once more I failed. I try not to let my frustration and annoyance play on my face as my hand fidget with the material of my shirt. It frustrated me; all of a sudden I wanted to know. I wanted to know what colour Stellar eyes were, but not only Stellar’s but the whole families. I wanted- I had to know, I just had too. But before I could even utter a word, Stellar interrupted continuing on with our conversation. “Well, I was in my room and I thought maybe it was a good time to have a break.” Momentarily the need for answers left my mind as I listened to Stellars words. He spoke them with a hint of amusement, that made my darker mood lighten a bit. “Ah, you’re not going to tell on me, right?” His words hit me, making all the others thoughts leave my mind instantly. Did he think I was going to tell on him? It hurt me for a moment, to think that my brother would think that I would betray his whereabouts to our mother. I would never do that. I knew I was unpleasant to be around most the time, but that didn’t mean I was the rat of the family, always running to ma when someone had done something wrong. I never ran to ma. Never. I tried to avoid her to be totally honest. I tried to avoid her just like the others- she would pile on the self-pity like a mountain, always insisting to help me, by holding my hand or leading me around by the shoulders. It embarrassed me every time. I hated it. It wasn’t until I felt Stellar’s hand in my hair, ruffling it like he used to do years ago, that I realised that he had been trying to joke around with me. A soft lazy chuckle followed and I felt myself, despite my effort to hold it back, begin to smile. “Look at that! You just made a joke, even if it probably is true that Ma would kill me.” He says, and the uncomfortable feeling that had risen in me earlier faded slightly. Surprisingly I felt the smile of my lips grow slightly, becoming more prominent on my face. I hadn’t smiled like this for a while, and it felt good. It felt good to be around Stellar, my oldest, and have a feeling of ease. For years I have had trouble connecting with my family, always fearing that they would bring up my sight, always fearing about the pity that would shower on me. With Stellar it had never really been pity, but something different, something that usually made our conversations end in fits of rage. “But seriously, as much as I can take Ma smacking my head, her lectures would just bore me to death. So if Ma asks, I was never here.” I turn to look at Stellar, once more, hoping that an image of him would automatically form before my eyes. But as usual, I am left disappointed, my eyes seeing nothing. I wish, I wish just once more that I could see him, see all of them. Just once more. That’s when my pervious thoughts fly into my mind, churning my brain with a million questions. Would it sound silly, silly to ask Stellar what colours his eyes were? Would he take offense? Question after question whirls though my mind causing me to feel light headed. Blinking a couple times I pull my gaze to the material of the couch once more, coming to a decision. “She won’t know you have been here. You can count on me.” I try not to fiddle around with my hands as the words slip out of my mouth. I was nervous. Nervous about the things I wanted to ask, nervous about the reaction I might get. “Stellar?” I ask hesitantly, my fingers ring around each other gentle, as I turn my hands over and back. “Stellar, what- what colour are your eyes?” I ask the words quickly falling from my mouth before I could change my mind.I had to know.

[/justify][/size][/color]

this lovely template was made by Arro from Caution 2.0[/td][/tr][/table][/center]

[ᕙʕ•ᴥ•ʔᕗ]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: 000E0F; border: 021924 solid 0px; width: 475px; padding: 0 0 0 0px] I couldn’t stop watching the expression on his face, hoping that it wouldn’t scrunch up into anger as it had been for a long time recently. Instead, I was met with a small smile, one that was struggling to break free from the brave façade Red tried to put on whenever someone else was there. It made me feel pretty good to know that my brother still had it in him to smile—he had even made a joke! It was as if the clock was wound back several years and I was given the opportunity to be with my little brother again. I knew I wasn’t quite off the hook yet, that the conversation could end badly as it always did, but I enjoyed the moment while I could. Red’s reassurance that he wouldn’t tell Ma on me made me grin even more. Once again, I ruffled his hair, letting my fingers run over the soft texture that numbers couldn’t tell. “I know I can count on you.” I noticed that he was fidgeting a bit, but I took that as a normal part of him and sat back in the seat, my head lounging on top of the back. It didn’t take long for Red to call out my name and I raised my eyebrow at him before remembering that he probably wasn’t able to see that. “Yeah, kiddo?” He sounded rather nervous which was odd since he was just saying my name, but I didn’t want the nervous energy to become an explosive energy. Any other question I probably would have been able to answer with ease or at least felt comfortable with the question, but when Red asked what color my eyes were, I was stumped. I could feel my whole body tense as I tried to think of a good answer for him. He obviously didn’t want a bullshit answer, but I really didn’t know what else to give him. “Well, it’s blue,” I said tentatively. “Or at least that’s what I remember of it.” I had seen my eyes in the mirror and I recognized the color along with the numbers that went with it, but remembering the exact shade or shape was difficult unless I was able to look directly at it. As clear as the numbers were to me, pulling up mental images resulted in fuzzy objects, blurred faces, and obscure furniture. My eyesight wasn’t bad, but my memory when it came to my eyes sucked, like some messed up wiring. “I’m really sorry I couldn’t give you a better answer, kid. I just…can’t remember exactly what it is except in numbers.” Would Red have been able to understand what I was saying if I gave him the numbers? Nobody else seemed to know what I was saying when I threw numbers at them—most of the time intentional—but Red was a smart boy and I had a feeling that if he hadn’t lost his sight, Ma would have been on Red about studying too. The only difference was fewer numbers would have been involved for him. No, I wasn’t going to burden Red with numbers that probably didn’t make any sense. I took another gulp of the drink, mindlessly aware that it was 2.69357 parts finished. Hell, the conversation was going down a more awkward route now. It wasn’t so much that I minded that he asked me that question—and it made sense why he would ask—but I was annoyed by how useless I was when it came to appearances and images. Even if I knew every detail of Red’s face, I wouldn’t have been able to describe him to someone without listing a long chain of numbers. What was worse was I didn’t know what I looked like, only relying on what other people had already told me. “I can guarantee you that any question about my physical appearance will result with an answer like that.” A long sigh came out as I couldn’t help but say, “Amazing how useless I actually am.”

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: 312C17; border: 021924 solid 0px; width: 475px; padding: 0 0 12 0px] STELLAR JAY | JAY FAMILY PLOT | PLAY BY: TOM HUGHES