If We Weren't Such Good Friends I Think That I'd Hate You
Chapter Seven
Faris woke up, his mind instantly swimming with the memories from last night. He felt himself ache with humility, hoping his hardest that Kyle would have been too drunk to remember; but he didn’t count on Kyle forgetting it.
Faris threw on a new t-shirt and the pair of pants he’d worn the previous day, slowly pushing his door open and peeking out into the hallway. He couldn’t hear any talking, so he figured it was safe to assume that Kyle was still asleep. He tiptoed out the hall, peering around the corner to the living room.
There was nothing there. Kyle’s bag was gone, the box of records was gone, and the notebooks that Kyle had left on their coffee table were gone. Faris frowned at the emptiness of the living room, folding his arms and tilting his head to the side.
“Looking for Kyle?”
Tom came walking casually out of the kitchen, a cup of tea steaming in his hands. He had a satisfied facial expression ironed onto his face, looking somewhat happy with himself.
“He left early, then.” observed Faris, shrugging his shoulders.
“Actually, he left a little late.” admitted Tom, his eyebrows raising a little. “I came home around three thirty to find him packing everything. I thought he was going to stay until Sunday?”
“Maybe his-” Faris paused, only to increase emphasis on the next word, “-girlfriend, let him back a little early.”
“You know, you should’ve realized that Kyle’s rather open-minded… and that I’m a very good listener.” said Tom, sitting gently on the couch and eyeing Faris intently.
Faris began to feel his stomach clench a little, hoping to himself that Kyle leaving would be the last he’d have to hear of the events that occurred in the last couple of weeks.
“Tom, sometimes you speak only of nonsense.” stated Faris, glaring over at Tom.
“I’m not trying to upset you.” muttered Tom, rolling his eyes at Faris. “It’s just that I know you, and I know Kyle now, and I’m not blind like you… I see things, and if you’d just talk to me I could be of some use.”
“Oh god.” moaned Faris, his hand rising to his face to rub his eyes. “Please do not tell me that’s what you’re getting at.”
“Come on, Faris.” sighed Tom, his voice still casual. “Last year on the tour you were together a lot, then you randomly decide to meet up one night, and then he decides to stay here for almost a month, which I know you thoroughly enjoyed.”
“You don’t know anything, Tom.”
“I know a lot more than you think I know.” corrected Tom, shaking his finger at Faris. “I’m not going to get involved in your business, but I think this time you should go for it.”
Faris looked at Tom with an incredibly dumbfounded expression, hoping that Tom would stop talking permanently. He stood awkwardly, watching as Tom stared at him. He decided to avoid Tom at all costs from now on.
“Before you lock yourself in your room until the next recording date,” said Tom, setting his tea down and beginning to stand up, “you might want to take this with you.”
Faris stared after Tom as he went into the kitchen and returned with a record, Kyle’s favorite Squeeze record. Tom handed it to him along with a crumpled up note. Faris eyed Tom curiously, wondering if he’d read it himself.
“No, I didn’t read it.” assured Tom, knowing Faris well enough to understand that Faris believes nobody appreciates privacy like himself.
“Thank you.” said Faris, taking the record and the note into his hands and making his way back to his bedroom.
Faris threw the record over onto his bed, sitting himself on the floor so that he could lean back against his bed. He looked at the note in his hands, waiting a few seconds before finally opening it. It was rather sloppy, if Faris wasn’t used to having to read his own writing he probably would have struggled.
Faris,
I can’t really sleep on your couch anymore, mate. If I ever want to get back with Kieran and the guys to fix things I’ve got to go back to her. I know you like the record, so keep it. You’ve got my number if you ever want to have a few drinks.
Kyle
Faris snorted to himself, balling up the piece of paper and throwing it into the bin across the room. Of course, it missed, and it just lay on the floor beside his record player. Faris turned around and grabbed the record that sat on his bed, looking at it with disgust. He took the record out of the case, allowing himself to have full grasp of it within his hands.
Faris let out a grunt and then proceeded to use his strength to crack the record into as many little vinyl pieces as possible.
Faris threw on a new t-shirt and the pair of pants he’d worn the previous day, slowly pushing his door open and peeking out into the hallway. He couldn’t hear any talking, so he figured it was safe to assume that Kyle was still asleep. He tiptoed out the hall, peering around the corner to the living room.
There was nothing there. Kyle’s bag was gone, the box of records was gone, and the notebooks that Kyle had left on their coffee table were gone. Faris frowned at the emptiness of the living room, folding his arms and tilting his head to the side.
“Looking for Kyle?”
Tom came walking casually out of the kitchen, a cup of tea steaming in his hands. He had a satisfied facial expression ironed onto his face, looking somewhat happy with himself.
“He left early, then.” observed Faris, shrugging his shoulders.
“Actually, he left a little late.” admitted Tom, his eyebrows raising a little. “I came home around three thirty to find him packing everything. I thought he was going to stay until Sunday?”
“Maybe his-” Faris paused, only to increase emphasis on the next word, “-girlfriend, let him back a little early.”
“You know, you should’ve realized that Kyle’s rather open-minded… and that I’m a very good listener.” said Tom, sitting gently on the couch and eyeing Faris intently.
Faris began to feel his stomach clench a little, hoping to himself that Kyle leaving would be the last he’d have to hear of the events that occurred in the last couple of weeks.
“Tom, sometimes you speak only of nonsense.” stated Faris, glaring over at Tom.
“I’m not trying to upset you.” muttered Tom, rolling his eyes at Faris. “It’s just that I know you, and I know Kyle now, and I’m not blind like you… I see things, and if you’d just talk to me I could be of some use.”
“Oh god.” moaned Faris, his hand rising to his face to rub his eyes. “Please do not tell me that’s what you’re getting at.”
“Come on, Faris.” sighed Tom, his voice still casual. “Last year on the tour you were together a lot, then you randomly decide to meet up one night, and then he decides to stay here for almost a month, which I know you thoroughly enjoyed.”
“You don’t know anything, Tom.”
“I know a lot more than you think I know.” corrected Tom, shaking his finger at Faris. “I’m not going to get involved in your business, but I think this time you should go for it.”
Faris looked at Tom with an incredibly dumbfounded expression, hoping that Tom would stop talking permanently. He stood awkwardly, watching as Tom stared at him. He decided to avoid Tom at all costs from now on.
“Before you lock yourself in your room until the next recording date,” said Tom, setting his tea down and beginning to stand up, “you might want to take this with you.”
Faris stared after Tom as he went into the kitchen and returned with a record, Kyle’s favorite Squeeze record. Tom handed it to him along with a crumpled up note. Faris eyed Tom curiously, wondering if he’d read it himself.
“No, I didn’t read it.” assured Tom, knowing Faris well enough to understand that Faris believes nobody appreciates privacy like himself.
“Thank you.” said Faris, taking the record and the note into his hands and making his way back to his bedroom.
Faris threw the record over onto his bed, sitting himself on the floor so that he could lean back against his bed. He looked at the note in his hands, waiting a few seconds before finally opening it. It was rather sloppy, if Faris wasn’t used to having to read his own writing he probably would have struggled.
Faris,
I can’t really sleep on your couch anymore, mate. If I ever want to get back with Kieran and the guys to fix things I’ve got to go back to her. I know you like the record, so keep it. You’ve got my number if you ever want to have a few drinks.
Kyle
Faris snorted to himself, balling up the piece of paper and throwing it into the bin across the room. Of course, it missed, and it just lay on the floor beside his record player. Faris turned around and grabbed the record that sat on his bed, looking at it with disgust. He took the record out of the case, allowing himself to have full grasp of it within his hands.
Faris let out a grunt and then proceeded to use his strength to crack the record into as many little vinyl pieces as possible.