‹ Prequel: Lost Cause
Sequel: Dinner Date With a Rock Star ›
Hallelujah
Happy Hump Day
What I found funny, so hysterically farcical I could have shouted in relief to the heavens, was the fact that either no one cared or no one suspected a thing about what went on. Was I such a good actor? No, you suck at it actually. Oh, thanks for your continued support. No problem. Just keep being a jackass and you'll hear more from me. I shook my head to clear it, to get that goddamn voice to shut up. Maybe they just trust me.
Doubt it.
The day went about in relative normality, boredom vanquished by the pure flowing insanity that these people seem to breed when together. Another laughable thing, I thought while reclining in an out-of-place lawn chair, I'm part of this group, even if I feel more like the field observer researching a herd of gazelles, than truly holding a place within the pack.
I witnessed Johnny lay down a complicated bass line, clapping when he got it perfect on his second try, watching him bow as if in front of a crowd. Brian came up behind me, startling a high-pitched scream into the air when he grabbed my sides. We could leave now, he informed me while grabbing my hand (Our fingers easily laced together whenever we held hands. It felt natural, I thought.) and poking fun with his chocolate-coloured eyes, either go to a bar ("But it's Wednesday," I interjected.) or go home with Zacky and Lyndsey and watch movies 'til the wee hours of the morning. I picked the latter almost instantly, dimly hoping I'd be able to concentrate more on the dilemma at hand than the screen.
"Oh!" I said suddenly, flipping the hair out of my eyes and remembering a phrase of Aria's, "Happy Hump Day, fool." Brian snorted and removed his hand from mine, favouring instead to wrap his arm loosely around my waist as we walked out the studio.
"You're such a nutcase," he declared. I personally agreed, thanking him for the ..compliment.. as I unlocked my car, fully anticipating whatever cult-classic film (and cuddling on Zacky's large, overstuffed, black leather sofa with Brian) awaited.
Doubt it.
The day went about in relative normality, boredom vanquished by the pure flowing insanity that these people seem to breed when together. Another laughable thing, I thought while reclining in an out-of-place lawn chair, I'm part of this group, even if I feel more like the field observer researching a herd of gazelles, than truly holding a place within the pack.
I witnessed Johnny lay down a complicated bass line, clapping when he got it perfect on his second try, watching him bow as if in front of a crowd. Brian came up behind me, startling a high-pitched scream into the air when he grabbed my sides. We could leave now, he informed me while grabbing my hand (Our fingers easily laced together whenever we held hands. It felt natural, I thought.) and poking fun with his chocolate-coloured eyes, either go to a bar ("But it's Wednesday," I interjected.) or go home with Zacky and Lyndsey and watch movies 'til the wee hours of the morning. I picked the latter almost instantly, dimly hoping I'd be able to concentrate more on the dilemma at hand than the screen.
"Oh!" I said suddenly, flipping the hair out of my eyes and remembering a phrase of Aria's, "Happy Hump Day, fool." Brian snorted and removed his hand from mine, favouring instead to wrap his arm loosely around my waist as we walked out the studio.
"You're such a nutcase," he declared. I personally agreed, thanking him for the ..compliment.. as I unlocked my car, fully anticipating whatever cult-classic film (and cuddling on Zacky's large, overstuffed, black leather sofa with Brian) awaited.