Cabin of Bad Dreams and Towel Scenes

.two.

I was playing my ukulele, Gerard listening around the corner. He thought I didn't know he was there, but I knew. I saw teal roots dart around the corner when he locked eyes with the the small instrument in my hands. I switched from just strumming chords to Can't Help Falling In Love. That was when clever little Gerard finally came around the corner and sat cross legged about five feet away from me. He listened intently, his face contorting, trying to figure out the song. After a bit I heard a faint humming come from him and I closed my eyes playing.

A big smile was on my face as I imagined playing ukulele for someone special out by the river nearby in late summer. I could smell the grass and flowers and the person next to me. I imagined them resting their head on my shoulder, quietly singing along to whatever I was playing.

That had always been my dream. I had always wanted to play for someone in a very romantic scene and share the moment, just feeling how much one another cared. And maybe, just maybe, I'd join them with my own voice, raw and untaught, but passionate nonetheless.

But I had yet to find such a fantasy.

I stopped playing, chuckling slightly. His humming stopped, "Only when I play Elvis do you come around the corner."

"You saw me?" His cheeks went pink.

My mind had switched the order of that for just a moment as I made that observation. His pinks did not go cheek. Maybe I should've payed more attention in class.

"You aren't exactly hard to spot. I'm also not the only one here. Who else would be breathing heavily around the corner?" I asked, smiling, leaning against my ukulele.

He scratched his leg, "I didn't want to disturb. But when I heard you play something familiar, well, I wanted to see how you played it."

"Hmm." I paused, leaning towards him, "You sing?"

"Very little," he shook his head, "That was a lie. I sing 24/7."

"Any good?" I poked.

"I'm my biggest critic, Frank. I have no good opinion to give you." He laughed.

I set my ukulele down on top of one of the amps, "For another time, then."

"Oh." He looked down.

His head flicked back up when I stood up, and he watched me. He stood up as well and followed me into the kitchen. I side glanced him and he just looked at me, standing in the doorway. I rinsed a cup and put it on the drying rack.

"You follow me like I'm Jesus." I said, turning to him.

He crossed his arms, not in a mean way, more of a this-is-my-natural-pose way, "Well, I don't know what to do with myself."

"Do what you usually do then." I suggested, opening the mini fridge, grabbing a surprisingly not expired juice box.

"I usually watch those tapes you have or go for a walk." He said after a slight pause.

I took a sip, "If you wanna watch a movie, go ahead. If you wanna go for a walk, go ahead. No one's stopping you."

"It just feels different with another person here. I feel like I'm supposed to socialize or do things with you." He shrugged, looking confusedly at the floor.

I laughed slightly, "I'm just going about my business here, but if you really want me to watch a movie with you or go for a walk with you, then I will. I could make popcorn, if you'd like."

"There's none left."

"I brought stuff with me, don't worry. Even a few more VHS tapes. I'm spending the next 25 days here, so get used to my company."