The Way You Look Tonight

Wearing nothing but a pair of board shorts and a pair of sunglasses, with his surfboard in hand, Brian looked every inch the Californian. He wasn’t feeling it today though.

Grace’s departure had everyone down. None more-so than Brian. He tried to talk her out of it at the airport, but Grace was like himself. Stubborn. She’d flown out of his life, promising it wouldn’t be forever.

He wasn’t sure why she was gone. When he’d asked the guys they had looked at him like was the biggest douche-bag to ever walk the face of the planet, and a plank to boot. He honestly didn’t know what their problem was - or Grace’s for that matter.

His confusion wasn’t aided any by Michelle who, at the moment wound him up more than anything else in the world. She would gloat to anyone and everyone, whether they were a volunteered listener or not. They often wondered if she actually cared if anyone was[I/] listening to her selfish rambling.

Eventually though, everyone began to pity her. It seemed to, to their eyes anyway, that everyone knew Brian wasn’t really hers in the first place.

Michelle wasn’t an idiot. She knew Brian was never, and probably would never be hers. Michelle knew where Brian’s heart really lay. It was, at the minute anyway, in Scotland.

In a desperate bid to save her ‘relationship’ she bought them a puppy. A white Maltese boy. Brian named him, Pinkly, a tribute to his sideband Michelle reckoned.

No matter how much he loathed Michelle calling Pinkly their baby, and no matter how much he complained that the dog was too much of a sissy to a rock-star’s dog, let alone a boy, he did love the fluffy little thing.