Lyoko! The Musical by Carth
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Author's Chapter Notes:

So "tonight" turned into "2 days later", all fault to the fact that school's started again. A nice little scene with Jeremie hear. I'm sorry about the drippiness of his song- when I came up with it it was the best idea ever, but it got steadily more schmaltzy as I wrote it. So I've made it skippable. I'm keeping it in because I'm not just going to waste it.

But yeah. Things are close to happening!

Scene 3.5

(As Scene 3 packs itself up, JEREMIE strolls to the middle and sets his pack down on the ground. In this monologue, he appears to be talking directly to the audience- it would appear that he has no one to talk to but his own conscience.)

JEREMIE: "Do you love her?" (angrier) "Do you love her?" What was I thinking saying that? What was I thinking, saying anything at all? What was I even saying? (He sighs, clutching his head.) I didn't have to kid myself into thinking they were listening to me. I was just there, that was all. It wouldn't have made any difference to them if I'd just taken off and left them alone.

And Stern saving me...that wasn't anything but a moral anomaly. The natural order of the strong either protecting or hunting the weak. He's never paid me any attention, none of them have. Maybe they shouldn't. (He sits down.) I've had enough attention to last me the rest of my life. ‘Genius!' ‘Gifted!' (mimicking MRS. HERTZ) ‘You've done well today!' Why did she have to say that? She knows they all hate me. She knows that's the reason they hate me.

Genius...what does that even mean? Above-average intelligence. An advantage. A mark of superiority. (He stands up.) If that's the case...if I'm supposed to be smarter than they are...then why are they happy while I'm miserable? Why do they act like I'm below them? If I'm so smart, so gifted, why can't I get what I want? (At the height of his indignation) If I can solve every problem on a paper, why can't I figure out how to make a friend? Why can't I figure them out?

Maybe that's it. (He's exhaused himself; he collapses again.) My mom always told me that some people are good at some things, and not so good at others. Maybe they're just good at talking to people, making friends, being friends, being popular...like I'm not. Maybe I've got it backwards. She also said that I have to respect peoples' differences, that I can't judge them by their shortcomings. And I do respect them. I respect them a lot more than I respect myself.

It's more than just being nice to people...this being liked thing. You have to be good looking. Charismatic. Smart without going to excess, almost wily, cunning. Good looking. Generous about the right things. Good looking. Mature to the right extent. And confident... (He looks up.) You have to be able to hide your secrets with a smile on your face...

(The following song is completely optional.

The sky always above me
Filled with the cataclysms
And dreams of light and gas

 The angels in the heavens
Their followers, the chosen ones
In flame will never pass

They've all gone up before me
The boys and girls (they'll have their way)
I'll never see again

The codes of constellations
Too alien and faraway
For me to comprehend

They're like a different species
Two chemicals and wavelengths
That push themselves away

My ways are like a poison
With reason comes an end to fun
I'd steal their souls away

 They've all gone up before me
The boys and girls (they'll have their way)
I'll never see again

The codes of constellations
Too alien and faraway
For me to comprehend

They're fake and hardly human, but
There's nothing else to take
Their world's uncensored beauty,
And I'm just a walking brain

If anyone can see the ground
There's nowhere else I can be found
I'll never burn like you, so please
Would just one star burn out for me?)

Maybe I'm being selfish. There's no reason I deserve special treatment. They've already made that pretty clear...but still...what if there's just one of them out there, any person, I don't care how ‘popular' they are...one person that just doesn't care? Someone that wouldn't be socially condescending. Someone that doesn't know what it means to be socially condescending... (He smiles triumphantly, before coming to a realization) Preferably someone that isn't my mom.

(He bends down at his pack.) At least I've got you. (He pulls out a shiny laptop. His voice isn't quite as melancholy anymore.) The newest model. My parents got it for me when I came here last year. They told me to take care of it...and I have. Everything's in perfect condition, except maybe the warranty...it doesn't have the operating system it came with anymore. If it did, it wouldn't be perfect. I'm in the process of inventing a new one. I just have to... (He trails off as he stares forlornly at the computer. Silently, gently, he puts it down.) But, no...

Oh! They've just introduced a robotics competition here in December, and...and I'm...I'm building something, see. Two different models, with a few variables switched around. I'm trying to see if a lighter model will...

It's not working. Not the robot, the robot works just fine. But it's not working. There's so many parts missing...

(The next three stanzas are sung to the tune of "Jump.")

A body made of plywood
And a convex lens for eyes
An OS made of circuits
With a cold metallic shine

A mind of gears and switches
Follow simplistic commands
The will of cold green metal
All that I have in my hands

The only thing that's missing
The vital, crucial part
The factory can't give me
Is a working...
(He can't continue. It should be fairly obvious what he wanted to say.)

The old car factory...that's where I get all my scrap metal to make them. That's where I'm headed now, actually. Model Alpha could use a little embellishment, and I saw a strip yesterday...anyway, I like it there. Once you've got used to the silence and emptiness in your head, it's hard to remember that anything else exists. I like that. I like that a lot.

(He gathers up his supplies and walks offstage. Blackout.)

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