Haha haha ok

Gucci Sleep Hat

Previously on "Is this about Appies Nightmare or is this in the Bar?":"

'Do you feel like having a chat?' I simply ask without looking at him. That seemed to be the best to me. He has the opportunity to say no and knowing him, he wouldn't have problems with saying no to me. I'm not forcing him into anything. And it wasn't too modern, was it? At least I didn't say "wanna".
'Yes. A chat sounds nice.'
It definitely surprised me, to say the least. This warm feeling of accomplishment and excitement filled me from my head to my toes. Nice. A chat.

————

The boy was so different from his sister. He was so different from his younger self. The younger self was annoying yet daring, not scared of conversation, happy and excited. But the way he walked down the hallway, as if he doesn't want to be there at all, radiating negative emotions. It almost made me uncomfortable.
Ever since I had that talk with her, I started paying more attention to him. He was interesting, but not in a good way. If that's possible. The clothes he wore were nothing but irritating me. Couldn't he at least pretend he tried to look okay?
He bumped into me in the hallway.
'Apologies,' he said just loud enough for me to hear. His hands were hidden inside the front pocket of his hoodie, and by bowing down, he hid his face underneath the black cap with the logo of the company of his family.
'Watch where you're going, kid.'
'I'll keep it in mind, asshole.'
The unnecessary and unexpected cursing made me angrier than normal. When he tried to walk past me, I grabbed his arm.
'Excuse you?'
He angrily turned his head to me, and there was clear fire in his eyes. It's been a really long time since we really had contact. It must've been at least a year since I saw him from this close. He looked way older than I expected him to look. Still young, but definitely worse. Big bags under his eyes, pale, maybe even thin. He looked as if he was ready to start shouting any second, so I wasn't too surprised when he did.
'Don't touch me!' he yelled as he pulled his arm back, immediately rubbing his hand over it, 'What are you, too important to take a simple step aside so I can pass?!' He gave me a rather aggressive push which made me take at least three steps back and then he turned away, walking over to the room of his sister which got opened before he even got there.
'Albert, was that you?'
He spoke too soft for me to hear.
'You need to stop-!' The door closed and I wasn't able to hear Miss Heijns scolding.

The formal party of Miss Heijn was the next time I had a decent conversation with him. The clothes he wore were actually appropriate. He looked actually nice. This must've been Miss' work.
'You seem lonely.' The boy walked over to me. I was standing next to the table with food, which I didn't even eat. If his mother still would've been around, he'd probably smile. Now he looked like he also didn't want to be there.
'I'm enjoying fairly well on my own.' I answered and I didn't look at him when he stood next to me. He also didn't look at me. We acted like two guys who we're about to sell drugs in the most unsuspicious way possible. The silence felt a bit awkward, but I'm used to that. It wasn't like I wanted to have a conversation, so I just kept quiet.
'If they asks, we had a "very pleasant" conversation.' he said while checking his phone.
'Sorry?'
'My father wants me to take a bigger part in the company.' he explains, 'So Stan organized this and I'm supposed to interact with all these people I don't know.'
'So you talk to me because I'm the only one you know.'
'No, because Stan will be happy if I say I "tried" to be nice to you.'
An uninterested noise left my mouth so I didn't have to say something and the conversation seemed to be ended.

'Opinions on... Animals in the building?'
'Depends. Fish are alright, but that's about it.'
'What about dogs? Cats? Cats are cute?'
'Of course, what's more cute than little arrogant demons with sharp nails?'
There's a playful smirk on his face. Small, though. Definitely not because he wanted to. It's just there and he doesn't even realize. Our chat has been lasting for over thirty minutes now. We went from opinions on politics to opinions on animals. From polite and mature to conversation which I could also have with my friends. Well, I probably wouldn't talk about animals in the office with most of my friends, but it sure felt like a friendly conversation. I wonder if he has any friends.
'What's this, Jenkins?' I say and the same playful smirk appears on my face, 'Could you perhaps be scared of cats?'
'Oh no. Scared? No.' His hand waves in a "psh, that's stupid" way, and his head turns to the side with his nose in the air. Does he know how obvious he is? He always does that.
'Would you like some cats in your room, Albert?'
I somehow can't help but smile a little when he says my first name without making it sound childish or insulting.
'Oh, I'd love to.'
He grins and turns back to the bar, sipping his third bitter lemon till there's nothing left.
The conversation from this afternoon, between him and Pam in the coffee room, starts playing in my mind again. About how he'd prove us that he's not much fun. I look at him and see he's completely lost in his thoughts again, circling his glass around in his hands. He looks soft and approachable, as if he's ready to put your child in bed and sing it lullabies till it sleeps, placing a little soft kiss on the head before leaving the room. Or is he the kid, laying in bed because he's tired, waiting for someone to tuck him in, bring him a warm glass of milk, maybe? What would he wear when he goes to sleep? It wouldn't even surprise me if he wears some kind of weird sleeping hat. Gucci sleeping hat, of course. I notice his side profile again and start looking at the details. His sharp but soft jawline, his non-office hair which looks a lot more fluffier because there's not much hair gel in it, the yellow eyes being darker than usually because of the red light from the bar. There's a little twinkling in it, something I've never really noticed. The twinkling you see in movies and always think they're just from movies, animations, and when you see it in real life you suddenly realize how you only saw those kind of eyes in movies. Am I secretly in a movie? Animation? He ordered a simple water, took a brief glance at me trying to figure out if I wanted something too and then decided he wanted two simple waters instead of one.
Out of nowhere, a girl appeared. Probably a bit older than me, with thin and long golden hair in a high ponytail, yet it was still able to touch her lower back. She wore clothes that could've been a size too small and her leather skirt was short enough to see her panties if she'd bent down. Her face was full with make up, bright red lipstick, popping brown eyes. Pretty attractive, in my opinion. She puts her hand on Beaus shoulder, scaring him slightly and turn her way.
'I'm sorry,' she speaks, 'But I'm really sure I know you.'
My blond companion looks at the lady from top to bottom. 'The apologies are all mine. I don't think I've ever seen you before.'
There was a playful look on the girl's face, and if Beau wouldn't have been so damn dull he would've realized this girl was only trying to hit on him. I pretend I didn't see and listened to the convo like a spy watching his subject.
'Hm, are you sure?' she asked while running her hand down his arm, 'You sound smart, did we go to the same university?'
'I don't-'
'Oh, I see! Sorry, you look exactly like my next boyfriend.' The girl gets a little closer to him and laughs softly at her own stupid pickup line. He now seems to realize what the girl's plan is, too, and his eyes widen.
'Oh, oh, sorry.' He starts using some hand gestures which make him look even more awkward, 'I'm not interested.'
'Not interested in a girlfriend? Because you know, it doesn't have to permanent for me.'
He takes her hand of his arm, 'I'm sorry, Miss. I'm not interested.'
The girl's flirty smile disappears like snow being heated in a microwave. Which is a weird metaphor, but it's accurate. A bitch face appears and without saying goodbye, she turns away, towards a friend of her while screaming: "I fucking told you he was gay, Stacey!"
Beau took a deep breath in and out, awkwardly playing with his hands. I can't hold back my chuckle.
'Is something funny?'
'Dude, you could've gotten laid there!' I bump into his shoulder, 'Look at her, all mad at Stacey.'
'I'm just not interested, that's all.'

The whole day was nothing but melancholic. After Mom's death, Dad had never cried, until then. It felt unfair. I felt guilty. Dad felt lost. We all felt melancholic.
It was absurd how fast everything went. Within a week, the funeral was ready and set. It was all too fast. Everything went too fast. The room we sat in was big and yellow-white with some green and blue so now and then. Dad convinced me to buy new shoes. I took a look at them when a friend of hers was talking, but couldn't continue because of her pain and started crying. Another friend had walked up to support her. I hated those girls who always had to do things together. Go to the toilet, go get a drink, go change. Like, you can do those things alone, right? Yeah, those girls were like the girls I hated. But they were her closed friends for the longest time. I started tearing up when I realized how me and her always did things like that together, too.
The scariest thing was walking over to her coffin, before the whole ceremony started. It was a very pretty coffin, with pretty flowers. The same as Mom's. It were her favorites, and we always had them in the house. Dad had pleaded to use those flowers on Mom's coffin instead of the regular funeral flowers. My Dad already stood at the opening of the coffin, but I stayed back, at least three meters. He looked at me. My head made a soft nod but sideways, meaning that I was too afraid to walk over. The man whom I've been with since my birth, the man who changed my diapers, the man who taught me how to cycle, the man who told me bedtime stories and listened to my endless talks about the future, that man held out his hand to me. He had always been there for me and he would never leave. She had always been there for me, too, but she didn't stay. Not long enough. My hands reached out to his, holding on to him like a toddler on a birthday party of someone he doesn't know, hiding behind the safe legs of his strong and big daddy. We slowly walked over to my sister, who lied peacefully in the wooden bed, her face looking as pretty as ever. She wasn't a big fan of make up, but she didn't have a choice. Tears rolled down and I stepped back, preventing they would wet the wood. My father put some hair behind my ear before planting a kiss on it, resting his head and telling me he loves me as soft as possible with a shaking voice.
I had to be there to welcome everyone with my dad. "Welcome to the funeral of my sister! The garderobe is on the right, the drinks on the left. Have a melancholic day!" Jokes aside, as much as I didn't want to be there at all, I was glad that I could stay at my fathers side, at least. The look in everyone's eyes was the same. "First, they lose the wife, and now the daughter too? Poor souls". They shouldn't feel sorry for me. Stanley's the one they should've been sorry for. She had plans, she had people who loved her and she definitely wasn't ready to die. Yet she did.
I could tell Dad suddenly had a hard time acting strong when mr Del walked in. Mr Del could tell, too, so he walked over to me first, petting my hair and holding me close. His clothes were wet, it must've been raining. I didn't expect him to hug me at all and I definitely didn't like it, but I tried not to show. After that, my father and Del had a conversation, talking with their eyes instead of their mouths. Then they hugged, too. More friends came in. Family. School people and business friends. Beau Jenkins. He had closed his umbrella and made sure it wasn't wet anymore before going in and running a hand through his hair. Even though it was me who invited him, he still made me mad. Maybe it was because I wanted to feel something else than sadness, maybe it was because I was mad at myself. She would've wanted him to be there. I gave him a clear choice, and said it wouldn't be rude if he didn't show up. I suppose he wanted to see her for the last time, too.
'Mr Heijn, I'm so sorry for your loss.' I assumed he didn't start talking to me yet, because otherwise I'd feel a bit left out, 'Stanley was loved by many. She will be missed greatly and remembered often.'
My Dad softly nodded and whispered a soft "Thank you, Beau". The blond man looked so different. Especially his facial expressions. He was actually showing emotions instead of keeping on a business face. I could tell my father noticed it too. Jenkins turned to me and steps aside so my dad could talk to new people.
'The same goes for you.' He speaks very clearly, articulating well, 'There's no possible way for me to understand what you're going through, but know you and your family are in my thoughts.'
I didn't know how to respond for a while.
'Yeah.' I let out, and I continued after a short pause, 'I'm glad you could make it.'
He looked at me with a comforting look, a "don't worry about it, sweet man" look, and nodded slightly. Then he walked away and he quickly left my mind.

Indy if you see this ily