3. Coffee and Chill
*George Davidson*
As I stare at the skies, the deeper meaning of blue continues to struck my heart. I have started my morning with a rainy day, and a stormy afternoon had been planned to do so. And since, Lady luck wasn't with me this time. I still don't have an umbrella.
Wilbur kneel down below the awnings and made a small opening on his guitar case that can fit a hand to reach something...
I hope it is it's brown umbrella.
But I'm still thinking of who can be my partner for the guitar competitions. My Mom wants me to join and so I, but the only critical problem that I am thinking about is that I don't know where to start. If I should be the one that is asking for help to have acquaintance, then I should be the one that knows more...
It may also put a shame on our family if the son of the greatest guitarist on town have no idea what his father is doing.
A shadow had somehow blocked up the remaining glimpse of shine in the cloudy noontime. A wide shadow that completely devours of my height. I looked up, seeing a tall figure just behind me. It scared the whole soul of me but then I realized it's just that blank face guy.
"You better stay at my umbrella, it's small and so are you," he coldly joked, clutching the guitar case behind his back. Blank expression remained.
"Hey," I tried to brute up my voice. "Don't be a bully, Wilbur Gold,"
"How did you know my name?" He asked as he raised one of his brows.
"I am not a deaf person Wilbur," I lavishly looked at the blank expression of his eyes and smirked. "I heard it on Clay, a couple of minutes ago. Do I mind if I can ask a question? Do Clay and you know each other?"
He lazily stared at me. "No,"
"Then why can I feel an argument heating up in the both of you?" Wilbur turned back at me while holding his brown umbrella as he started to get pissed off on what I am just saying. " Hey Wilbur Gold, don't just turn your back on me, I am asking a question!"
The big man takes small steps, but then he later stop as he heard his name.
"Don't call me Wilbur Gold," he stopped beside the sidewalk, grunting on annoyance.
"Why?" I simply questioned.
He looked back and showed a blank expression of his raging disbelief to me.
"Then what do you want me to call you? Mr. Wilbur?" I could hear a heavy sigh from him in just a meter away. "That sound so bad, it sounds like your a tyrant that's about to blow up a nation,"
"You can call me Will," then he continued to walk ahead of me, leaving his trail.
"Hey, so you know where The Davidson's Cafe are?" I sarcastically questioned, knowing he is too bad on directions.
I hear another sigh.
I scoot over the awnings as I notice my guitar case getting slightly wet, and a heavy palm then again weights my shoulder.
"I thought you knew," I tried to piss him off.
"Come inside my umbrella, I hope there's a room for you," he looked up at the sky as he said those words at me.
"Why do you need an umbrella it's not even raining-"
He grabbed at my right hand and exposed it outside the umbrella. But why do instead that I can feel the cold rain, is that I could feel more of his warm palms. Why do I can hear the heavy breathing on his chest and it glides my skin. It just feels weird that I could also feel his warm breathing, and as the light rain showers pelts my skin, I can't help my heart to thump so fast. This feeling is new... and very weird.
I looked at him and I just can see a new genuine expression imprinted in his face. It is not something expressionless, but something derivative that suddenly give a quick burst of color in his life. He continued to look at my eyes as I also look at his soul.
"So what do you think now? Is it raining?" I quickly breaks the gaze field between us and removed my wrist on his palms.
"Uhh.. Uhhhmm..." I'm speechless as I am trying to find my words. "Okay, it's just light rain showers, watch out for my guitar, it's a little bulky."
I just shake the thoughts out of my mind as what just happens earlier... maybe that's what just most friends do...
🎼🎼🎼
*Will Gold*
Going outside of these times felt some sort like the first sunlight since I was evicted on the womb. I just want to go home, really. I just followed what some advice that I think I could cherish and perish. Having a hobby, and I think guitar isn't the best one...
But I also didn't know why did I pick a guitar... I really don't know.
But well, this new person George had gave me a mix of auras. George didn't know, and I don't want him to know. Since this morning he gave me something that makes me shine, but in the same time, I also don't want myself to act at him like someone different. I just want to be myself.
And even that his height barely reached my chin, our silence dominates as we just walk below a single umbrella. I'm worried about my guitar, I hope that it's not wet.
The scent of the brewing coffee raced to my senses. I looked around, and still the city feels like a ghost town in lock of vehicles. The rain starts it's downpour once again, and the droplets made me notice the people on umbrellas walking under the rain.
The aroma of the pancakes and coffee really made my stomach growls. "Are we here?"
"Yes," George breathed. "Do you know how to read? The sign of The Davidson's Café is very big I guess?"
I looked up and noticed the near mossy wooden sign above. I exhaled a sigh, then noticing the small boy just got suddenly disappeared under my umbrella.
I folded my umbrella and shake as it was soaked on the rain. My guitar case wasn't wet, thank god it wasn't.
George had an old man talking in the counter, and in my guess it's his grandfather. I looked around the café for some time before I could enter. There are framed hangings of big old compact discs, and a wood theme wallpaper and some indoor plants.
My umbrella was left outside for a moment, and on the time that I opened the glass doors, the scent of the coffee brewing really attracts up my senses. I think I want to buy some coffee in the future. Instead of a person, I was welcomed with a standing blackboard with chalk writings of inspirational quote and list of coffee's available and some order customers can take.
All personnel are dressed with either black, brown, or dark green apron. There are some couples sweetly chit-chatting while drinking a couple coffee. I also noticed a tuxedo man reading a newspaper beside the rim of book shelfs, and coffee quotes.
There are also-
"Good noon, sir. Do you want our freshly brewed coffee?" A staff approached me with a sudden, wearing a brown apron and a name token "V".
This girl was wrong timing.
The woman cheerfully smiled like she's a girl scout asking for cookies. The shine in his face fades as he notice my uncanny attitude.
"Uhmmm..." I don't know what to answer. "I'm looking for my friend, he's a boy,"
"Boyfriend?" The girl viciously asked.
My mind explodes with sudden words. "No, not boyfriend. Uhmmm... just friend, but he's a boy,"
"Will?" A voice appeared just behind V.
"Oh, hello Mr. Davidson," V greeted George. "Sir, is he the boy friend you are referring out?"
George looked awkwardly to V, while I looked at him with a cold, yet sympathetic and apologetic expression. V then smiled at the both of us before he could go on the table of the tuxedo wearing man.
"You can sit anywhere, while my grandpa gets our requirements," George moved a chair on the table below me and looked at my eyes.
I effortlessly moved the chair and continued to sit, wanting to inspect the vintage designs that were left in this place.
George placed a mochaccino in a white cup and platter right in front of me. His hospitality made a new expression as I looked at him.
He moved a chair in front of me and placed the coffee in his side of table. He sat at his chair as he stirred his coffee.
"My grandfather asks me why do you want to enter the guitar club. Is it okay if I can ask?" He looked at my eyes and my straight body.
"Uhmmm..." I'm trying to find my words. "I want to have guitar as a hobby,"
"Oh..." George amusedly said.
I went silent and started to mix my coffee.
I looked up and inspects George quiet face.
"How about you?" I asked.
He looked straightly at me and smiled.
"I want to take the same path my father takes. I am participating the guitar duo competitions, and I still don't have one... but still I wanted to win..."
My heart remains silent after hearing his words.
I hope I could also have a goal like that in my life.
*1586 words"
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