Face The Music

All To Myself Pt. 1

I tapped my foot restlessly on the floor to the beat of a song I couldn't remember, except that I'd heard it before, and it was hella catchy.

Did you say please just follow me?
I thought you wanted me
badum bum bum badum dum dum

Shaking my head out of the trance, I shifted my position at the bottom of the steps, tugging at my side french braid. When had he said he was coming? 9:30? Damn, it was a little early for a trip to the zoo, wasn't it? Maybe he wanted to arrive before the crash of visitors that usually destroyed the zoo on days like these.

I checked my phone quickly, turning the screen on and off. Had to conserve that battery. When I realized that I hadn't even checked the time, I looked again, this time making sure to let the number glow in my mind so I could take it in. 9:28.

My foot resumed its tapping, and I returned to the earworm that refused to give me a rest.

I thought you wanted me
'Cause dum dum da da dum dadum
You can try and suck it up
I just keep fucking up
Make me da da da dum dum

Haha, these were fun lyrics. Why couldn't I get the right one?

9:29.

Josh, where the fuck was he? Ah, he was probably caught up with his bandmates or something, or he was just late because he was a rockstar and they did these things. Pianists were always punctual, and if they weren't, they'd make up for the time.

9:30.

Okay, I was overreacting. The time had only just arrived, and maybe the beautiful tree leaves waving back and forth in through the window we're distracting him as must as they were me, so he'd stopped by the side of the road to smell the roses. Better yet, he'd have parked his car by the little garden forest a little ways away from my house, and he'd be laying in the small field of flowers, crushing them completely with his back, but enjoying himself so it was worth it. I smiled as the image played back in my mind. That blue hair matched well with the golden and orange petals, and his rockstar black and white checkered tie was loose, flopped messily on his chest, in sharp contrast with his blue collared shirt that matched his hair. The ripped jeans were rolled up, exposing his ankles to the gloriously warm sun, one of those beautifully uncommon things you could find in Canada on a good day.

Diiiinnnngggg!!!!

I jumped up from the last step, oversized white wool sweater flying up at the bottom from my sudden movement.

9:31, the phone clock said. Well.

I opened the door to a slightly hunched man, sheepishly holding out a hastily picked bouquet of slightly flattened marigolds out to me in an outstretched hand. With a gasp, I grabbed for them, silently congratulating myself on my psychic powers.

"Are you for real?" I clutched the flowers to my chest, bouncing up and down.

He scratched his head, blue fringe blowing in his face as he struggled with his other hand to put it in its rightful place. "Damned hair," he grumbled. "I'm sorry, I'm late! I should've called to tell you or something. I just got so distracted by the garden..."

Wrapping my arms around him, I gave him a light squeeze and pulled away. "You're a minute late."

"Yeah, I know, sorry," Josh was stepping from foot to foot, staring down at my bunny slippers in either shame or horror.

"It's fine, silly. I mean, I obviously would have called ahead, were I a full 60 seconds late to a date, but it's okay. I can't expect you to know the code. Clearly, I'm the professional here." I crossed my arms in the doorframe, smirking.

"You got me, Bunny Slippers. Damn, Ki, I know those poor things have seen better days." Pitifully, he looked down at them. Then, suddenly, he stopped and brought his eyes back to mine with a strange glint. "Wait. Back up. Two steps, or three. This is...a date? Is that what this is?" Now he was smirking, catching hold of my hand as I actually backed up into the house, my other hand covering my mouth.

"Did...did I just say that? Jesus Christ, that was...well, I -- I don't know what to say. I don't recall saying that. Maybe your insomnia is starting to get to you. Maybe you should sleep more."

"Ha! What about yours? Is that what this is, though? Really? A date?" Josh's eyes were wide, with excitement or horror I couldn't say.

"Hm. Maybe. Maybe not. Who's to say? Why don't we let the gods decide?" I wagged a finger at him, teasing to cover up my embarrassment. I'd never gone on a date before.

If he noticed my hesitation, he didn't show it, but he let the topic go. "Alright, pumpkin." He winked.

"Ugh, Josh," I wrinkled my nose at him. "When you wink." I left the unfinished thought hanging there, fluttering my hand in my face in mock dizziness.

He pressed a hand to his chest, feigning heartbreak in reply to me. "Back to those goddamn slippers." Pointing at them with a judgmental finger, he demanded, "When was the last time you washed them? Or, you know, didn't wear them in the mud and rain?" Josh stopped down to eye my slippers, a critical glint in his eyes and a smile playing innocently about his mouth.

Sharing his gaze, I examined my baby bunnies. "I mean, what's wrong with them? Sure, Leftie is a little browner than pink should be, but I think Boris is a downright beautiful shade of...blue-mucus. Why all the hate?"

Then he looked up at me, completely deadpan. "You...named them Boris and Leftie. And you think mucus is a beautiful color. I think I should take you to the zoo. You can move in with the meese."

"What can I say?" I put my hands out. "I've always wanted to live like a Canadian."