To Love/Hate the Spotlight

Well if there ever was a more appropriate time for a nineties music montage, it would take place in that store. I'm thinking light hearted pop punk but not Blink 182. Wow does that even matter?

After I don't know how long, we jumped out of our treasure cave and this time prepared. Picture a plastic tiara, a pink boa, and 3-D specks. Now do you want to know what I got? The spitting image of the Indiana Jones hat -tis awesome- and vintage Blue Blockers which is jaw dropping in itself. It really does eliminate Blue. My grandma would be so proud.

"Much better, don'tcha think?" He ended up a foot ahead and walking backwards. His feathers flicking in the breeze.

"I'm doing pretty good, though still a touch confused as to how this is you being incognito."

"Okay, it's like this: Fans (if they're out roaming the streets) will be looking for a bad ass guitarist not a boa-wielding princess. It's fool-proof!"

"Nice word choice, fool-proof. It's impenetrable logic." My eyes rolled a nice one-eighty.

His lips pouted like a toddler and, to be honest, it was exciting but not in a pedophiliac way. "How come you're so sarcastic?" It wasn't even an accusing tone just... curious.

I shrugged. "It's my first language." A ridiculous answer to a ridiculous question. Do I have to remind him what country we live in?

Checking he had enough path before being ran over, he asked, "What's your second language?"

"Uh... I would have to say physical communication."

"Oh, like sign language?"

My bottom lip tucked under my front teeth. "Yeah... sure." He really isn't into modern exchange. "Why the questions?"

"No reason. I just think if someone has something to say, it shouldn't be in riddles or bullshit. Just be straightforward. Less time playing mind games and more time having fun." He swiveled by the time we got to the crosswalk. His expression, inscrutable with blue and red lens.

"Wonder if I have fun being sarcastic?" I said more to myself upon jogging across the street.

"Well, then, you don't know how to have fun," he challenged simply. My mouth flew open as a reflex, but I remembered how he won in the age argument. I've got nothing for this.

"Okay... Frank, if you're a princess, what does it make me?"

"A nobody. Like before."

"That makes you..." He bobbed slightly as he meandered beside me. "I'm the princess, and you're my prince charming coming to rescue me from my four evil step-sisters!" He squealed in an oddly masculine manner. I don't know how; he just did. My sunglasses had to come off to appreciate his dazzling white smile. I'm jealous of his normal, perfect teeth, so I took caution keeping my laughter in a tight grin.

"I can handle that." The Blue Blockers struggled into my pocket.

BJ's POV:

"Where are they?" Tre stole the words right out of my mind. Every one of us has had a shot at the question for the past seven cigarettes. This cafe is getting smaller and smaller by the puff.

"Did they get lost?"

"Frank's been here dozens of times before. He couldn't have gotten lost."

"Yeah, but then again Frank doesn't have the best sense of direction."

"Remember: He did get lost in that one CostCo. We were paged over the intercom to come pick him up at customer service."

"That was an isolated incident."

Make that eight cigarettes.
I hate waiting.

My attention span lazed through the front window and traced the letters of the pharmacy across the street.

2-4-H-O-U-

The fraction of the second before a blink, a streak of pink darted across my vision from right to left. I glanced around at the other guys for maybe some confirmation my boredom wasn't evolving. Amusingly enough, the evidence piled up against me.

Can nicotine cause hallucinations?
I'll google it if I remember to.

"Hey, isn't that Becky?"

Sure enough where the pink had passed she was peeking inside -hands cupped around her peripheral for a better view- and squinting inside at our group as we waved and beckoned her in. The upturned brim of that strange hat flipped down to normal from the press of the glass. Like she didn't see us at all, she ran out of sight. The sudden vacancy at the window only furthered my hate for Deja Vu. It's the feeling that ticks me off.

"Didn't she see us?"

"I guess not."

"Ray, call Frank and see where the hell he's at."

"I'm gonna go see what's up." Uneasiness pulled me out of my chair -automatically bringing my smoking gear in tow- and walked outside. My feet drew to a stop on the sidewalk. Just another cancer blow at the blue sky, briefly darkening the atmosphere above me like my own little rain cloud. It's not the symbolism; it's just tonight is going to take forever to get to. I need to delude myself. I need Becky to keep me sane till then.

My muse and good luck charm is darting in and out of stores.

"Babe," I called at the flicker of red clad legs disappearing a few doors down. Grinning at the bell chime upon entering, I followed her into a craft store. Beads, glitter, decorative baskets, threads, walls of buttons, a valley of fabrics, other hot glue and plastic plant thingys. Four old broads glancing my way and conversing under their breaths were gathered around the only register steps away. I have half-assed gelled hair and a black on black combo. Not to mention remnants of last night's eyeliner.

Oh yeah, I totally fit in.

"One, two, I'm coming for you.
Three, four, you left pink feathers on the floor..." The bodiless hymn didn't help me at all direction-wise. If I say anything now it would convert to something cruel and/or perverted at my gray-haired audience. I'm obnoxious at heart. Maybe later.

"Five, six, where's my princess, I'm the prince." Becky's voice came louder, leading me into the back row of aisles. My eyes widened and my paced quickened through the shelves of doll parts: Dozens of limbs, torsos, heads, eyes, mini wigs hanging separate in plastic pouches with stapled cardboard at the tops. Creepy as fucking hell.

"Seven, eight, I can't think of anything great.
Nine, ten- Ha Ha I found you, Bitch!" She shouted. Auditory localization finally in tune, I was completely off. I deliberately took a different aisle to get back to the racks of fabrics with no rhyme or reason to them. I can see Tre using the leopard print for a shirt though.

"How did you find me?!" The Where's Waldo? Frank shrieked in shocked glee. So much for Ray calling him. I hung back in -wow- the sticker section. There are Barmitzvah stickers?

"Oh please, how could I not when you left a trail of feathers." Becky plucked one off him and blew it at his face; in response, he blew right back at her. There go a blowing contest, but Becky doesn't do that. I know her. She doesn't do that. She doesn't. I... just no.

Clearing my throat -because that's procedure- I made myself known and trudged up to them. Becky must not have noticed my subtle, What the fuck face, because her eyes lit up (more than I thought possible) and she ran into my arms. The impact knocked me back a step, but it did settle that drop of jealousy on the tip of my tongue.

"Hi, Sweetie." Her lips pressed against my own, attracting a chill to run up my spine. It didn't last long enough, but my eyes fell closed and I melted. I think I could really get used to this mood change she was talking about.

"Hey, Billie Joe." Frank waved half-heartedly and sauntered over.

More disappointed that she pulled away and ended it, I just nodded in his direction. It wasn't meant to be a rude gesture.

"So, so..." She patted my chest in a jitter fashion. "How was your meeting?"

"Great, but why didn't you come in the cafe?"

"What? When?"

My jaw loosened but didn't drop. She couldn't be serious. "Just seconds ago. You looked in through the window...? We were waving and calling you in." None of this seemed to register. "You looked right at us."

Frank poked his head out from behind her like he was hiding the entire time. "Actually that might be my fault. I thought we were supposed to meet with you guys on the other side of town, so we decided to play Ultimate Hide and Go Seek on the way."

Throughout his explanation, my eyebrows gradually stitched together. "Hide and Seek?" Becky smiled despite my puzzlement. "... hide-and-seek?" Did I chase down a Twilight Zone episode?

"No, I haven't been drinking, yet. But I do have to -you have your credit card?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Frank and I found an absolutely awesome thrift store a few blocks away. That's why I have this kick ass Dr. Jones hat and Frank's princess drobe. But seriously we have to go." I haven't seen her this jazzed over clothes since that Buy One Get One Half-Off on skinny jeans at Hot Topic... Okay so I bought a couple pairs for myself, more than I needed. It was her doing.

"So can we go, please, please, please?"

"But what about the other guys? I wanted to find you but not ditch them."

"Oh, don't worry about it. Frank can tell them where we'll be and come if they want."

Frank's bubbly air about him deflated.

"You don't mind, do you, Frank?"

The deflation left a faraway stare. "Yes... I mean no. Of course I don't mind, but they are only two doors down. Can't we all go?"

"Didn't you just say you thought the cafe was on the other side of town?" I know I heard him say that.

"Yeah... I thought it was, but now I remember where I'm at." That makes sense. My mistake.

Becky turned on her heel and held her arms behind her, gripping my belt. "Frank, could you go ahead? I want to talk to Billie for a sec."

What did I do?

I felt something touch my thigh. Her nail trailed along in-seam and traced up the heart of my pants. My muscles froze, but my eyes darted everywhere. Is this what she meant by talk?

"Is everything okay?" His frown was well-defined. I gotta feeling his inquiry pertained more to me than directed at.

"Yes. Okay isn't the right word for it." Her fingers groped my rising second conscience.
Now? Why now? It's not even noon yet. "Frank, could you take my hat with you? I don't want to get hat hair, and if I carry it I know I'll lose it. Please?"

"Sure." He reached out for it with a limp wrist.

"We'll have a rematch later."

"Hide and Go Seek or the sword fight?"

Her grip literally left me; it just dropped, as did my blood pressure. The hand that left me joined its respective hip. "You know I totally powned at the sword fight."

"No, you cheated!" Right now you would never guess his face was capable of frowning.

"Not this again."

"Yes, this again. I was just about to win, but you opened up that umbrella and then cheated."

"I think you mean, and then won."

"Whatever," he concluded and snatched the hat right off her head. He was out the door before I could catch my breath and brace myself for her grasp.

"What are you doing?" I whispered, casting an eye to the four pairs of Cataracts trying to be inconspicuous when staring at us.

"Just follow." She moved around me and walked in the farthest back corner of plastic plants. Most of the stems hanging in the aisle possessed petals worn down to loose threads. Just as my attention dismissed a shredded rose, it flickered at the shock of her pushing me against manufactured vines pinned up on dry wall. She held herself tight with a stronger kiss. And this I know I can fully enjoy, but something about it bothered me: Not in the sense that if felt wrong, just a little off.The airplane was a surprise but this... what is this?

This is her sucking my neck, moving to the other side to unmarked skin.
This is the makings of a matching Frankenstein bolt-bruise.
This is my eyes clasping shut so I can breathe.
This is my thought process turning to mush...

Click. Slither.

This is her sliding my three row-pyramid stud through the belt loops.

"Whoa, baby, no," I gasped, intervening between her hands and my belt.

"Why?" She was just as hushed and confused.

"We can't here." I thought that would be obvious enough.

"Why not? We always said we wanted to do it in nature."

I did a visual sweep from the dull lights to the cracked tile floor. "Bec, last time I checked, nature doesn't have price tags on it."

"So?"

"This is a craft store, and you know we gave up on that. From experience we're not the Out Doorsie types.Remember in the tent?"

"That was a really big spider," she used as her defense.

"I know. I recall running behind you." We joined in a shudder at the memory. "That's something we'll not ever do again."

"Exactly, so this is the closest we're gonna get." She latched back onto my neck -wet and precise- and gravitated towards my earlobe. It sparked electricity up my spine. Aside from the concern of her possibly piercing my ear, it was the voyeurs up front.

"What about the senior citizens?"

"What about them?" Her murmur dragged down to my waist. I get the feeling she's sick of my talking.

"It's just--------- I can't here. It's weirding me out. I saw doll parts in one aisle. Can't we just save this for another time? Maybe in the monkey corner of the Rain Forest Cafe?"

Every small touch and feel came to an abrupt halt. The heavy breathing from her nose went dead. Her soft body went rigid and cold. "... sorry," she muttered and swept the wild hair behind her ear. My favorite pair of maple irises lingered askew from me.

"I'm glad you're feeling better than earlier," I threw out there just to be sure she's all right.
Daily routine guided my hands to pull and lock in the right hole.

"Yep, a lot better."

"So to the thrift store then?"

"Um-" Her faced puckered in thought. "Why don't you go on ahead? I'll just get something to eat."

"Oh..." I would have settled for a fake smile and an Okay. "Don't you want me to-"

She glided out of the aisle.

"Come with you?"

The door chimed upon her exit and triggered the light bulb over my head.

I'm an idiot.