My Little Raspberry

If you hadn’t been out this day, it could easily trick your mind and say the time was less than it actually was. There was this scent that filled the vaguely illuminated room that couldn’t be described as something bad; you could just know that there was something going on in the room, something in progress. No, it was nothing particularly kinky in any form, maybe a little sexual for a slight per cent of the population on this godforsaken planet. A small beam of the sun managed to get through the Venetian blind that had been closed the nearest 24 hours and there had been no intentions of letting the so big star fill the room with its happy light. The minor…

“Excuse me, some people like it dark some periods in their lives!” Gwen said, by instinct dragging the nearest rug over her head, as protection for the now enlightened room.

“Come on. This is not a good way of living, dude. I don’t get why you want to sit in the dark right now, because if you’d been depressed you’d be crying your eyes out on my shoulder, or more likely Betty’s shoulder. So explain to me why it is this way, please.”

“If I wanted your opinion about my mental status I’d have asked about it when you first came knocking on my door last night for a place to crash.”

“You actually did, or, your eyes did, because I know you, so goddamn well, it’s almost scary. I’m almost scaring myself. I’m that good.”

“Don’t go all arrogant on me. Who was it that could tell when you were checking that girl out, and said that you probably wasn’t her type, and when you ended up asking her, your goddess was right all along.”

“You were right about her, and not about me. She was definitely my type.”

“I could still tell you were interested, Brenny-boy.”

“What are you doing anyway? What requires it to be as dark as in a closed pantry?”

“Writing…”

“Tell me what you’re writing?”

“Lyrics…”

“Which I know I’ll never see in my whole life unless you decide to share it with the whole world, I know. Just tell me a little of what’s going through your mind, because I know I’ll never manage to get some breakfast if I haven’t got a clue, my little raspberry.”

”Raspberry? You’ve never called me that one before. But I like it, because of the lacking of personality in it. It surely describes our relationship, my dear boy.”

“What? Would you prefer raspberrycheesecake? I’m so not in the mood for this now.”

“Okay, okay, okay. I guess I’m not depressed, I’m just having this thinking-period at the moment. I think it started just after you came yesterday.”

“Oh, so that’s why your eyes were all empty and blank when we watched the movie...”

“I think so.”

“Oh my God, it’s a dude, isn’t it? You can’t stop thinking about him, right? And everything reminds you of him? Tell me, is there anything in this room that reminds you of him?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me what.”

“You.”

“Oh, well, that’s just odd. What do I have in common with this dude then? He must be extremely handsome, I say you.”

“You’ve got the same deep-brown eyes that he has. The ones that see right through you and make you feel so comfortable. You feel like you really matter. I don’t know. Maybe it’s childish.”

“Gwenny, I didn’t know you felt that way about me. Oh, baby, come here.” His arms opened up to a hug but she quickly shoved him away from her, sending him confused down on the floor beside the couch.

“Brendon! Come on, you’re supposed to be one of my best friends. I don’t want to be your lover.”

“You know you want it.”

He stood up, brushed the dust off of him, which pointed out that no one ever vacuumed this apartment. He found his way of feeling comfortable on the couch again, and that meant that he lay upside down beside her where she sat as a tailor would. A key turned in the lock of the front door and it was opened. In came Sammy with her newly dyed hair in different colors with the mail in her hands. She eyed the addresses while she threw her bag on the armchair beside the couch.

“What have you two been up to?” she said, without looking at them.

“Y’know, the usual, movie, took a bath, sex,” Brendon said, eyeing the wall across from where he lay upside down receiving the punch in the side he was expecting from Gwen.

“Fuck you.”

“Yes, please,” he said making a move to take of his t-shirt, but was stopped by a pair of hands gripping his wrists and pulling them away from the collar.

“My God, you really haven’t had anything in ages, my dear celebrity.”

“I’ve been busy, and you know it. I mean, when was the last time I slept at this messy apartment? Why won’t you clean, woman?”

“I’ll leave you two alone just for one moment. But seriously Brendon, why couldn’t you get some when you were at tour?” Without waiting for an answer Sammy left the room with her hands up in the air.

“Sorry if I’m old-fashioned and want to know the girl I gonna get some action with first. And there weren’t any girls there that were my type anyway. Give me a break, like immediately!”

“Fine, but I’m still not going to have sex with you, and I won’t ever have sex with you unless we’re both highly affected by something that contains a lot of alcohol.”

“Well, fine, I wouldn’t want to sleep with you anyway.”

“Is that so? Care to tell me why?”

”Because… you’re you. You’re Gwen. You know me to goddamn well. It wouldn’t be good for our friendship, I tell you.”

“You’re really not one step before me. I’m way ahead of you, mate. Can’t we leave it there? It’s kind of getting out of hand, and I think it will start to scar us for life if we keep going.”

“Deal.” He offered his right hand to hers to shake it.

“But I still think there’s something up with you and that guy, Ryan.” She didn’t want to say it too loudly, because she wasn’t sure if she should have said it in the first place. She’d teased him a long time, since she found those slashy videos on youtube with her friend and his band-mate together. Brendon wouldn’t take it too seriously, but it was a good thing to start him off.

“You’re seriously begging for it!” he yelled, jumping up from his place and literally attacking her where she sat. They both rolled of the couch, trying desperately to be the one on top of the other. Gwen would win the majority of the times, but this time Brendon had the advantage. With him sitting astride on her, they weren’t paying attention to Sammy entering the room again.

“Holy mother Mary of God! Don’t tell me he talked you into it after all!”