The main entrance to the mall is a slow, lazy revolving glass-metal door. But it is much more than that. It is a border, a line between two worlds that are as different as chalk and cheese.
Outside, it's the world of the adults. It's lawful, safe; you always know exactly what you can do or say. There are very clear rules on how to behave and how not to behave. In this world, everything has its place. In the eyes of a teenager, it's a world of principles, rules, laws, and order.
But it gets so boring, so slow. And worst of it, so uncool. Everything takes so long, so predictable. “Get up early to get to school don't forget breakfast I will pick you up after the lessons don't forget the training after school dinner with parents go to sleep and tomorrow again, and again.” No change, no deviation, no excitement, nothing.
But the mall is different; it's a jungle. It's an exciting, wild, and dangerous place. Everything has repercussions — wanna say, do, or wear something? Suit yourself, but (in)justice will be done, and promptly. It's a giant chessboard full of pawns ruled by their kings and queens, those very fortunate winners of the constant popularity contest.
Sitting on their thrones and padded chairs they are looking down on us — mere mortals — from their palaces, from the benches with the best view or from their tables at the pizza place, forever reserved. As the main figures of each play and each game, they are unapproachable, and holding the highest stakes of the game they shall continue to be so.
It's a dangerous place, not dissimilar to tyranny. Yet we continue to come here, spend our afternoons here, court our crushes, live through our first loves, create our first life-long enemies that we will befriend again in 2 days. We continue to flatter our royalty, to despise them, to hope to become them.
This is an exciting place, an exhausting place. But most importantly, it is fully ours. This is the City of the Young.
