RoadTrip Oneshots

Dancing In The Mirror ( Randy )

The first time it happens, Rye is extremely confused. He's awakened by a noise coming from his bathroom, but he's pretty sure he lives in his apartment very much alone.

He looks at the alarm on his night stand – 7:32 AM – and not only is he scared of whoever found their way into his bathroom, but now he's also severely pissed off that he's awake before noon.

He looks around his bedroom for anything that he could use to smack someone with and settles for his framed poster of the Doors. God, how he wishes he'd gotten into baseball instead of music in his teenage years.

He tiptoes to the bathroom, breath coming out strained, and he's so tense he's afraid he's going to cramp up at any second.

The closer he gets to the bathroom, the more he can make out, and his confusion only gets worse. The noise sounds a lot like... singing?

Who on earth would break into his apartment, only to take a shower and sing in it?

He carefully nudges the door open with his toes, pleased to find that at least it isn't locked and the element of surprise will be on his side. However, even though he can clearly hear a shower running now, there's no hot moist air coming out of the bathroom.

Oh God, he's in a horror movie.

His bathroom is haunted, and he's going to be the token gay guy who will die first.

He tiptoes into the bathroom. The shower curtain isn't drawn, but the noises of water and singing are still there. As a matter of fact, the singing is really rather nice. And muffled.

It's then that Rye's sleep-deprived brain connects the dots. It's his new fucking neighbour who's taking a shower, and who apparently thinks it's very much okay to sing loud enough that it wakes Rye up in the morning.

Frustrated and tired, Rye smacks the wall loudly, and the singing stops for a second, before picking up again.

This time, he thinks he recognizes a song by Pink Floyd. Oh well, at least the singer on the other side of the wall has decent taste in music.

He saunters back to his bed, pulls his pillow over his head and hopes that it will remain a one-time thing.

***

It doesn't remain a one-time thing.

It's not like he's woken up every single morning by his new singing neighbour, but the guy has an unfortunate tendency to sing loudest whenever Rye needs his sleep most. Like after a late shift at the restaurant the night before, or when he's stayed up late to do his homework.

Rye tries everything, from trying to sound-proof his bathroom door with towels and pillows, to earplugs and even heavy duty earmuffs, fit for construction sites, but he's somehow become so incredibly tuned in to the singing, that even the smallest amount of that voice will wake him up without fail.

He's considered walking over to his neighbour several times, maybe bake some cookies and ring his doorbell under the guise of welcoming him to the building, but he doesn't bake and he's not actually rude enough to whine about the guy's singing.

The game changer happens when Rye has an early class – one that he usually definitely doesn't go to, but they'd received a warning by email that they'd be covering some stuff that would be really important for the mid-terms – so he rolls himself out of bed at 7:15.