The Hipsters

Evil Friends

You know what?

Birthdays suck ass.

Nobody cares about your 18th; they just want to know when you're 21, so you can join them for a drink. Or when you're 25, so they can harass you about getting a job. A relationship. A life. Or when you're 30, so they can ask you what you're doing with said life. Turning 18 should be a big thing.

Instead, I'm eating a slice of ice cream cake (that I went out and bought yesterday) and drinking my hot chocolate, staring at nothing.

"Hey.", Hazel called. She was is nothing but a White Stripes t-shirt, and underwear. I furrowed my brows.

"Is that my underwear?", I asked. She shrugged, and opened the fridge.

Fuck it. I'm going to school.

+ + + +

As soon as I got home, I plopped down on the couch and started to flip through the TV channels. My eyes lit up when I got to HGTV.

School was a drag, of course. But thank god, my favorite show was showing today.

You Live In What?

I swear, people live in the craziest shit. A chicken coop, a firetruck, etc. I fucking love it. I fucking love everything about HGTV. You know what? That's my new best friend. They're always here for me, they provide me with knowledge that'll help me when I get my own place. My mom would be proud.

The phone began to ring, and I tripped over my boots to get it. Wait, where's Hazel?

"Hello?", I answered, my voice strained. I grabbed the couch for support.

"Hello? Hazel? Is Beatrix there?", Silas said back.

A grin appeared on my face. I cleared my throat, and attempted to emulate her voice. "Oh, hey. No, she's at school. What's up?", I lied.

"I told her I couldn't call today, but I lied so that she wouldn't find out about her other present. I sent something to her place and I don't want her to see it yet...can you sign for it when it gets there?", he asked, adorably.

"Yeah. I guess I can squeeze that in.", I continued.

"Great, thank you so much."

                                      + + +

He got me a new camera.

And not just some beginner, garden-variety shit.

An Argus C3. The first picture inside of it was a picture of the Beatles vinyl CD, Revolver. I started to wonder why he put that as the first picture, but then I remembered New York.

Yes. We hipsters don't have "our song". We have "our album".

And I fucking loved it.

+ +

So, it turns out that Colin paid for Hazel to get a train ticket to New York City and is staying with him for the night. Lucky bitch.

I ate another Sun Chip while on a house tour on Apartment Therapy. I sipped my hot chocolate as someone knocked on the door. I grunted and got up from my seat.

"Hey, mom.", I opened the door.

"Mom? Since when is an incredibly handsome and 6'0 tall British boy your mother?", Silas responded.

"Wait...what the f...you're back!", I gave him a hug. After a couple seconds, I pulled back and studied his face. "Dashingly handsome?", I grinned.

"Well, how else would I have made you fall in love with me?", he grinned back.

"You're British. That's enough for me.", I said, kissing him. He kissed me back immediately, snaking an arm around my waist.

"You...taste like...Sun Chips?", he whispered, confused.

"I was hungry, now shut up and kiss me again.", I whispered back.

                                        +

"I loved the camera.", I said, as we toured a house together. I was beginning to think that home design was our thing we did together, like how couples might golf together or watch movies.

"Yeah, you better.", he smiled, and kissed my cheek.

"Just curious, does this mean I have to spend money on your birthday present now?"

--

A/N: Short chapter.

Thanks Wattpad. However, I'm not taking down the rant. Yet.

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