This Was Never Gonna Be Simple

Fortunately, all Shay requested was milk so I was spared the wild goose chase Aled sent me on the other day. You could go into practically any shop here and find milk. Milk's a great thing, it's so easy to find. Even if you can't find it in the shop, you can always head outside to the nearest field, find a cow, and get your own milk. I don't know how well that would work, though. Would you just sit down and hold your bowl underneath its udders and try to squirt the milk over your cereal or? Here, Ian, is a prime example of why you were believed to be insane.

"Carton of cow juice and a packet of haribos, please," I beamed at the shopkeeper.

"Cow juice?" he repeated, shooting me a questioning look, and I mentally slapped my forehead. Did I really just walk into a shop and ask for cow juice? Congratulations, Ian, you're a retard!

"Milk," I quickly amended. "I mean milk."

"Riiiiiight," he nodded slowly, taking his time trying to determine whether I was trying to be a smartarse or if I was really just that stupid. That's what it looked like he was doing, so I reckon I was probably spot on with it. I'm not really that stupid, I promise you.

He calculated the total, tapping the numbers into the till rapidly. It would probably be quicker if you just sat and added the numbers up in your head, but ain't nobody got time for mental arithmetic no more! (If you didn't read that in a 'strong independent black woman' voice, I'm judging you).

What even am I?

It didn't cost much. I'll take a wild guess and say that's down to the fact that all I bought was a pint of milk and a packet of haribos. It's a possibility. I paid for it with the loose coins in my pocket, telling him to keep the change with a wide smile. He might think I'm crazy, but I've still got manners. Dayum, bitches love manners! (I think that sassy black woman might just be my alter ego).

I tried to avoid further embarrassment, collecting my bag and leaving the shop straight away. I heard the bells above the door chime as I left, but I continued walking. I kept my head down, not looking where I was going, but still listening to others around me. I did that often, and then I'd usually walk into someone. Ah well.

"No, Jay, piss off," I heard someone grumble. Ooh, Mr Grumpy Pants. At least I'm not the only one who hates everything.

I kept my eyes glued to the ground, only looking up again when I felt my body collide with someone else's, knocking the bag out of my hands. Goddamnit, that sounded sexual. I walked into someone, okay! No, not INTO, them. Ugh, I give up!

I cast my eyes upwards, taking a moment to take in his features. He had a familiar looking face, I wasn't quite sure why I recognised him. I didn't really recognise him as such, but it was more of a feeling of deja vu. I felt like I'd met him before. Don't they say you get that feeling if you've met someone in a past life? I don't know, but maybe that's it. He looked really damn familiar, anyway.

There were slight differences between the man I pictured in my head and the man standing before me, though. For one, the man I seemed to remember's hair varied a little from the man I thought I knew. His fringe was slightly longer and the back of his hair was slightly shorter than I imagined it to be. He looked to have aged a couple years, too, no longer a chubby teenager, but instead, a reasonably slim young man. He still wasn't overly thin, but the slight bit of weight suited him well. Better than the puppy fat did. He was a few inches taller, too. And did I mention his hair was blue?

Despite this, he still looked familiar, but I couldn't quite place him. I'd probably walked past him in the street before - something simple like that - but my past life theory sounds cooler.

"Sorry!" he gasped, hurrying to pick up the couple of things I'd dropped.

His voice sounded even more familiar than his face, and this time, I could match it perfectly. But surely it couldn't be...?