okay, the literal song is typed on the Personality Database as INFP. It's LITERALLY typed INFP, although the artist, Sloan, is actually an ENFP (which is close enough)
this video brings joy to my soul~ i snort so loud every time i watch it
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Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
Each of Adrian's fingers tap the counter successively, falling in line with each other. They all lift off the surface at once, beginning the routine again.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
All four of them, landing in perfect synch. They point ahead. Straight to the other end of the diner. Straight at her. The ugly blond with laundry detergent colored eyes.
Levi, his coworker, sits beside her, cupping a mug of coffee, laughing as if she said the funniest joke of all time.
Why can't lunch break go faster? His eyes squint so tightly, he almost feels the condensed power they send, to urge her along with her waffle. She's only halfway done and lunch break is only halfway over. If anything, time is only moving slower. Maybe his powers are the opposite; maybe they slow time down.
Not that Adrian hates her, he just hates the possibilities pertaining to Kimmy. The longer this blonde stays, the harder Kimmy's glare becomes. The pressure in the room therefore increases.
Finish your waffle already...
Adrian's eye twitches with fatigue, but he continues to stare over his cold burger; Kimmy's forced burger with no tomatoes. Why did Kimmy insist on a burger today? Isn't that against article 27, section 2? "All associates will receive one meal of their choice during diner hours, free of charge." Doesn't that mean he gets a say in what he eats? Sure, no tomatoes was his choice, but he would've rather ordered the mashed potatoes. Mashed potatoes sound way better right now. If he could only eat one thing for 20 days straight, it would definitely be mashed potatoes.
Maybe that's why he's in a sour mood. Cuz Kimmy forced a burger on him, calling him a twig for liking mashed potatoes, and Levi is friends with that blonde chick. What does he see in her anyway? She doesn't even have dimples.
Are they dating?
Absentmindedly, Adrian pokes his bun, picking off the sesame seeds as he travels around the edge. Maybe he'll have mashed potatoes for dinner. But he works late tonight. There won't be any time to even restock on potatoes at the store.
Instant mashed potatoes it is. No, wait. He checked the cabinet this morning. No potatoes at all, fake or otherwise.
He lets out a slow breath as he bends over the counter, laying his head on the cold white tiles. They feel like ice against his hot skin. It brings him back to reality and he blinks his eyes open, only realizing they were closed just now.
The day feels strange for some reason. It feels... peaceful. Why is that? Oh, right. Benny is shopping with his mom today.
Finally. A well deserved break-
Kimmy calls his name, impatience ringing in the syllables and he's upright instantaneously.
"Slack on your own time, Ady. Lunch is over." Her ringed fingers hand him a broom and dust pan. "Try to pawn some pie to the customers too, Noel has another batch in the freezer for us so we need to get rid of the leftovers."
Noel. Kimmy's mysterious pie chef. The only think Adrian knows about Noel is that his pies are to die for; Kimmy said he had mastered his recipes for as long as she's rented the diner. Which is... a really long time.
He begins to stroke the floor as his eyes drift past the glistening pie platters, showcasing cherry, boysenberry, raspberry, and cinnamon apple. The corner booth is empty. When did lunch ever go by that fast?
And how did his shift already end?
Time just whooshes by as Adrian can barely hold on to reality.
Before he even registers the end of the day, he finds himself out the door.
He walks down the street, staring at the sky. It's that orange tint, right at sunset. It's the best color in the whole world, with the peachy undertones and pink hues. They seamlessly melt together and slap his face with their unexplainable beauty.
He gives a soft simper as he tries to burn the colors into his mind. But too soon, the dark overwhelms the horizon with its heavy cloak and his eyes are back on the weeds between the divides of the sidewalk.
Boredom seeping into the cracks of Adrian's brain, he pulls out his phone and checks his notifications.
4 missed calls from Grant.
10 new messages. From Grant.
Adrian bites his cheek, deciding which to open first. He opts for the texts.
Hey
Loser
wyd
we have plans tonight remember
hey
HEY
UGH i no you do this all the time but srsly
why
don't you love me
fine. ill go have fun by myself like the lonely ignored brother i am 😥🙄😩😭
Adrian takes a deep breath, a guilty taste in his mouth. They had planned to see the new Fast and Furious movie exactly four minutes ago. At least he got out of it. Those movies are a dime a dozen, no deeper meaning in them than vroom and boom.
sorry i was at work till now
i totally forgot
can you get Eli or Liam to go with you?
no, i'm trying to milk your guiltiness. it makes me feel better 😒
Ady already agreed to go with me anywho
The shorter replica of his mom comes to mind. Adelaide. Long red hair. A pair of dimples. Same eyes, same face. It sometimes hurts to look at her for too long. It's like looking back in time.
One of the many reasons he moved in the first place.
have fun
Stuffing his phone into his pocket, he climbs the steps, ridden with mouse droppings and lint. His shoes are careful to avoid the strange puddles on the way up.
With a turn of his key, he's inside his apartment and flopping his jacket on a chair. Irma greets him with a hungry meow and he checks the cabinet for cat food. Bare shelves offer nothing but flower wallpaper and a few dead bugs in the back.
Get cat food and potatoes tomorrow.
Biting his cheek, he opens the fridge and pulls out the milk. He pours some into her bowl.
"Dinner. Take it or leave it."
A few steps and he plops, face first, onto his flower pressing couch in a giant puff of clothes and yellow foam.
A long sigh emanates from the cushions as Irma hops up to see what all the noise is about. Her wet nose rubs his ear and he smiles against the gray fabric.
It feels good to be home.
Pushing a stack of books from underneath his chest, Adrian rolls to face the combed ceiling. Swirly textures that look like waves, cover the whole area with their curviness. Only when his breathing slows, does he hear the booming bass upstairs.
The unnoticed noise was nice while it lasted. One would think they'd get used to it by now. Two years of continues ceiling bouncing shouldn't still be annoying. But it is.
When was there ever a time he heard nothing? Absolutely nothing at all. No club music. No honking taxis. No yelling street vendors. No diner noises. Silence.
Another sigh sounds as he sinks into the couch further and further. It seems to swallow him whole; only his legs are left, dangling over the armrest. He pulls his arms around himself in a make-do hug as his ears surround themselves in cushion.
The bass muffles a little, but the floor still keeps the rhythm, vibrating the action figurines that sit on the dusty coffee table. A little bit of everything of all sorts of tv shows and movies decorates the space beside his laptop. They have a little dance of their own as they jump around on the frosted glass.
A Pikachu figurine; its stripes are a little worn from a child's loving fingers. Adrian found it on the sidewalk, abandoned.
One of those stress balls with the bulging eyes, sitting in a tree at the park.
Beside it is a rubber dinosaur, no bigger than his pinky, left on a table at the diner.
A cow which he found in the vent of the apartment when he moved in.
Batman, still holding a bat star, but missing his cape. Adrian brought that one with him.
And three hot wheels cars. Where they came from, is still a mystery.
He stares at them, watching them vibrate in circles on the coffee table.
Right then, Irma decides to steal his attention as she climbs the table, knocking the cow over with her unbelievable grace.
"Don't even think about it..." Adrian mumbles as he sees false innocence in her eyes. She glances down at the treasures with distaste and tests how they feel against her paw.
The carefully placed dinosaur begins to slide across the table, leaving in its wake, a dustless trail as if clinging onto whatever it can. With one last look at Adrian, the evil creature prods it over the edge.
A dry sort of disappointment lays itself on him.
"Why do you hate me?" he pleads as Irma hops off, boredom leading her elsewhere. "I buy you expensive cat food... sometimes."
She wiggles her tail, unimpressed.
"I change your litter every day!" he yells as Irma leaves the living room without a backward glance. "Little ungrateful beast..."
His remarks have no affect and he's left alone again. The dinosaur is put back in its proper position. He gives a few procrastinating breaths, and hefts himself to his feet towards the kitchen.
With a box of cocoa puffs, Adrian finds Irma sitting beside her now empty bowl.
He bends over and pours a small serving for her.
"Second course." Irma looks up at him, confused, but he ignores her with a handful of cereal shoved into his mouth.
Moving to his room, he finds his favorite pajama bottoms on the floor, and shakes them a few times to magically rid all of the cat hair. The few hairs that fall off, land on the layer of clothes he considers the carpet. They have permanent residence there, since all of the apartment floors are mostly cement besides the entryway. It's as if the flooring company saw no potential in the little dump he so lovingly thought of as home. Or they knew he wouldn't have any visitors so there's no need for that kind of luxury. It's just a bachelor with his cat after all.
He slides into his pajamas, careful not to tear the patch on the knee. It's surprising that there's no other rips, considering the fact that he's had them since he was 15. Why on earth would anyone keep them for that long? He wonders that, himself, but the answer is already clear.
There's just this... soft comfort about them. The once striking blue and red of the flannel faded to pastels a long time ago, but the denim patch remains strong. It proudly styles his mom's stitching trails with some old pink thread she had saved for patching day.
Because mom patched these.
With another handful of cocoa puffs, Adrian puts the box on the window seal and sends a sour look towards the revengeful Irma. She sits in the doorway, gray eyes trained on his every move. Her silver whiskers glisten in the yellow light of the single lamp in the corner; more like a night light with how helpful it is to see.
Little does he know, his heart's interior is just as dim.
==============May-1-21===============
pub, Oct-24-21
-dOUBLE UPdate-
YOU'RE WeLCoME
Unrelated, but have you seen this?
I. Want.
Although, it looks kinda cold.
I think it would fit Adrian's aesthetic pretty well.
Actually... I unconsciously imagined the layout of his apartment to look like Holly's, from Breakfast at Tiffany's.