Weird Fishes

Heaven truly is a place on earth.

Well, so thought Richard Oliver, known as Jamie, his feet and legs plunged in the dark running waters of the Taff, holding firmly his fishing cane, breathing the cool morning air in the middle of the forest. The delicate shaded of green of the leaves filtered the light of the rising sun, that fell on Jamie like a comforting hand.

He smiled largly, taking another great breath of good old Welsh air. As much as he loved America, home still brought so much good memories. The scent of the humus, mm. The sound of the water, aaah. The bruises on his legs from the Muay Thai session that perfectly imitated what the bullies did to him, yum. 

He shook the thought out of his head, and heard a large splash. His head turned towards the shore. Had any of his fishes come back to life and jumped back in the river to seek revenge? Haha, attack of the LIVING DEAD FISHES. Mike and Lee approve this, beeeeep. 

No, let's stop mocking Mike and Lee's geekiness and find what that splash was, since it wasn't the fishes, and maybe tell off the responsible for having troubled Jamie's daydream.

Suddenly, from upriver, Jamie saw what looked like a brownish mess of hair floating towards his with the current. Frowning, he made his way towards it. 

Before realising that yes, it was hair. And attached to a head. Which was attached to a body. 
The body hit Jamie's legs and the long-haired man shrieked, before shooting in the human, terrified. There were a lot of splashes and screams, and suddenly Jamie was face to a gasping, panting, soaked boy. 

His brown hair stuck on his face, he was way taller than Jamie, had his golden-brown eyes wide open.
He wore, guess what, a Lostprophets shirt. Lostprophets, Jamie's band. 
The young man collapsed back into the water and started wailing.

Jamie opened round eyes, and picked the boy up.

"Whoah, whoah... Calm down, boy!"

Jamie dragged the crying young man out of the cold river, and lay him on the grass of the shore, before putting his fishes in his bag, along with his fishing equipment, while the young man calmed down. 

When this was done, Jamie sat near the now sniffling and trembling brunette.

"Hey... What's your name?"

"Worthless shit" the boy sobbed. 

Jamie sighed.

"Your real name."

The boy wouldn't look at Jamie. He stayed silent for a few seconds.

"Sh-Sean Smith." he murmured. "You're Jamie Oliver..."

"Yeah, I know" Jamie mused, and then poked the boy's shirt. "I guess I know how you found out. Thanks."

"Thanks for what?"

"For listening to the band and buying the merch. But I don't think it's a suitable costume for a bit of freewater swimming?" Jamie smiled.

Sean shook his head. 

"I just wanted to be a good-looking corpse" he muttered. 

Jamie's stomach sunk.

"A good-looking--"

"But anyways I failed... I suck at life and I suck at death." he mumbled blankly.

"You jumped off?! You tried to drown yourself?" Jamie was astonished.

"Yeah... Maybe." Sean sniffled.

There was another silence.

"You're drenched. Come on, I'm bringing you back at mine's." Jamie said.

Sean swallowed. 

"But--"

"There will be the guys."

"I--"

"Come on, hey."

Sean sighed, sniffled, and let Jamie help him on his feet, pulling his slightly wet mousy brown hair out of his face and rubbing his red nose. 

"Let's go."