Blue And Yellow
Why, Hello There, New Face
"I heard singing when I was walking back, but when I got here, it stopped," I informed Corey, "Was it you?"
Corey patted my head and laughed, "No, it was Brendon. Yknow? The dude that lives next door."
I looked to the right side of our apartment, as if I could look at Brendon, but I couldn't (instead I saw our bathroom). I don't know anything about Brendon, but I was so interested. His voice was so melodic. It just seemed to lure me in. As I tried to remember it more and more, the more I started to forget how it sounded. And since I forgot how it sounded, I was craving to hear it again.
"He comes over every Wednesday to jam. The other days of the weeks he comes randomly to play around with instruments."
"Oh. How old is he?"
"He's half a year younger than me. So he's half a year older than you, if you plan on schmoozing with him."
I blushed, but very lightly. "I don't even know how he looks, what if he's some crackhead?" I defended myself.
"Haha! But you're blushing!"
"Shut up!"
"Cat's already got a crush on her neighbor," Corey poked fun at.
I stuck my tongue out at him, "I do not. I don't know him whatsoever, except that he plays around with a guitar and sings."
Corey snapped his head left and right, trying to crack it (but failed). Then he rubbed it for a bit, "He's okay. He's not some fatty who sits around all day, I tell you that. He's could fit into 00 jeans."
Corey would know. It's apparent that he wears girls' jeans. How manly of him. But I'm okay with that, I like tight jeans. They have a nicer silhouette. As a matter of fact, I like Corey's sense of style. It's sort of edgy and clean. It most definitely hugged his small, yet tall frame. He's probably 5'9" or so. I'm at 5'5", pretty short, I guess. Four inches is a big difference, when you're the smaller one.
"Go eat," he directed, "I don't want a bag of bones for a homie."
I laughed at his term of words. I'm glad that of all people, he's the guy I come home to everyday...Not in that way, but just that company you get to feel. He's like coming home to family. That's more like it. Family.
"Well, I'll be in my room if you need something," he said.
Right after, I went to the kitchen to get some grub. I was thankful that Corey gave me his leftover mac and cheese because I didn't have my own food yet. If I were to peek into the 'fridge, evreything in it would be labeled "COREY PERMSTEIN". As I was looking for the plate cabinet, I kept thinking of how Brendon would look. Was he short? Does he have glasses? Is his beard long enough to braid? Does he even have hair on his head? Hey, I found the plate cabinet.
I grabbed a plate and scooped out the remaining stuff in there. At first, I was going to sit at the dining table, until I heard guitar playing in the balcony which would be our "backyard" I guess, but there wasn't a yard. Just a balcony. I carried my plate, opened the sliding glass door, and looked outside.
"Why, hello there, new face."
Corey patted my head and laughed, "No, it was Brendon. Yknow? The dude that lives next door."
I looked to the right side of our apartment, as if I could look at Brendon, but I couldn't (instead I saw our bathroom). I don't know anything about Brendon, but I was so interested. His voice was so melodic. It just seemed to lure me in. As I tried to remember it more and more, the more I started to forget how it sounded. And since I forgot how it sounded, I was craving to hear it again.
"He comes over every Wednesday to jam. The other days of the weeks he comes randomly to play around with instruments."
"Oh. How old is he?"
"He's half a year younger than me. So he's half a year older than you, if you plan on schmoozing with him."
I blushed, but very lightly. "I don't even know how he looks, what if he's some crackhead?" I defended myself.
"Haha! But you're blushing!"
"Shut up!"
"Cat's already got a crush on her neighbor," Corey poked fun at.
I stuck my tongue out at him, "I do not. I don't know him whatsoever, except that he plays around with a guitar and sings."
Corey snapped his head left and right, trying to crack it (but failed). Then he rubbed it for a bit, "He's okay. He's not some fatty who sits around all day, I tell you that. He's could fit into 00 jeans."
Corey would know. It's apparent that he wears girls' jeans. How manly of him. But I'm okay with that, I like tight jeans. They have a nicer silhouette. As a matter of fact, I like Corey's sense of style. It's sort of edgy and clean. It most definitely hugged his small, yet tall frame. He's probably 5'9" or so. I'm at 5'5", pretty short, I guess. Four inches is a big difference, when you're the smaller one.
"Go eat," he directed, "I don't want a bag of bones for a homie."
I laughed at his term of words. I'm glad that of all people, he's the guy I come home to everyday...Not in that way, but just that company you get to feel. He's like coming home to family. That's more like it. Family.
"Well, I'll be in my room if you need something," he said.
Right after, I went to the kitchen to get some grub. I was thankful that Corey gave me his leftover mac and cheese because I didn't have my own food yet. If I were to peek into the 'fridge, evreything in it would be labeled "COREY PERMSTEIN". As I was looking for the plate cabinet, I kept thinking of how Brendon would look. Was he short? Does he have glasses? Is his beard long enough to braid? Does he even have hair on his head? Hey, I found the plate cabinet.
I grabbed a plate and scooped out the remaining stuff in there. At first, I was going to sit at the dining table, until I heard guitar playing in the balcony which would be our "backyard" I guess, but there wasn't a yard. Just a balcony. I carried my plate, opened the sliding glass door, and looked outside.
"Why, hello there, new face."