Arizona & Tea
// 2
I may have or may have not squished Blondie to his almost-death.
“You what?!”My striking boyfriend-material flatmate intentionally yelled as he slapped his steaming cup of some Starbucks rip-off down on our glass kitchen island. Chocolate liquid dropped on our carpeted floor with a blink of the eye, which resulted to his Yorkie “Percy Jackson” quickly lapping the drops up. It was extremely funny to watch his morbid expressions on everything and anything that approached gossip and drama, but this time I no longer held a seat beside him while sitting back and watching and eating all the popcorn. I was the eye of the inevitable drama.
I eyed him in wary distress, but nodded anyway. My over-sized T-shirt made me feel homey in this casual nine o’clock Friday evening as it always did, but because of the harsh recollection of what occurred that morning... It practically ruined my whole day.
“Yeah,” my naked toes prodded Percy the Dog’s thirsty mouth away from the dirty carpet.
“I mighthaveormighthavenotalmostmaybelikeyly squished Luke Hemmings to his inevitable pig-like death.”
“Wow.” Brandon widened his eyes at me with some new-found admiration. “You got some nerves of steel, my lovely non-gay friend,” He slow clapped with a straight face, making me roll my eyes at him.
As I stood upon that semi-clean, twenty-year-old apartment floor on a sombre and cool Friday evening, facing my unlikely best friend in the kitchen with an marble island in between of us (plus, Brandon’s dog on the floor), I had this euphoria that I was clearly, insufferably and impossibly messed up.
And it was all Blondie’s fault.
In which way would I tell the story without making it look like I was some unordinary 18-year-old jerk face with 115 lbs of skin and bones? Ah, yes! On that very morning, I accidentally had a… unbecoming accident. Like any other playwright, it should only be best if I illustrated the memory my own way.
Once again, it all started a lot of hours earlier, where in I seriously I had to do my business (curse you, Evian and your unintentional intentions of making me pee and your ugly ratchet brand name!)…
The scene starts with naked lights beaming over the long, black hallway casts with numerous doors on both left and right. For some odd reason, the boys’ comfort room is pink and the girls’ comfort room is the opposite (It was mint green, duh. What did you think it was?). Cosette Billings waits at the threshold of the girl’s comfort room, wondering how the hell the wonderful and awesome girl was going to walk pass the opened boys’ comfort room without being 100% seen.
Cosette: *thinks* “Aha! I shall walk pass these hallways with near-slowness of an age-old turtle and seem as if I was like a simple fragile fawn that walked in the deep blooming rainforests of the Amazon.” [Clarification that Cosette Billings did not comprehend that fawns were not to be found in the Amazon]
She walks out slowly and timidly. Although her first plan screamed with evil-genius-ology and certified awesomeness, she changes her mind the moment the blonde boy finishes washing his hair out of the sticky Arizona Tea liquid in the boys’ comfort room [without Cosette’s knowing].
All of a sudden, her legs explode and she starts running. However, in the moment she does, Blondie make his way out of the comfort, unaware of the protagonist running. Both of their physiques bang into each other like a fat elephant crashing into another fat elephant. Instead of total chaos, Cosette lands on top of the guy; immediately seeing the amazing dangly sticks of man legs, a mint green polo, dripping wet hair, and a lip ring. Cosette, in that instant, did not like him at all. Mostly because of the lip ring.
Blondie: “Get offa me!”
Blondie squeals like a stuck pig; in which, in a way, he kind of was. Cosette grumpily and accidentally kicks his right leg in the duration she pushes herself up. Blondie groans in annoyance and yells at her.
Blondie: “What the fuck!”
Cosette hears the Australian accent that is mixed with such unworthy set of dialogue, but she cannot help but drool mentally while she is pissed. Other boys (or such handsome giants) walks out in shock as they see such scene. Blondie stands up quickly, with anger of course.
Blondie: “Why did you just do that?!”
Cosette feels frightened as Blondie stands up with his full height. Her head only reached his chest, making her feel wimpy and a baby fawn. She is angered by this so like how Cosette really was, she yells at him; turning the tables.
Cosette: “IT WAS YOU!”
He is, all of sudden, silent. The other boys stare at her in surprise. Cosette waddles [due to her unbelievable hurting coccyx] over a tall boy with brown curls holding the Arizona Tea bottle, as they stare at her.
Cosette: “I BELIEVE THIS IS MINE.” She toots with a snarl, swiping the empty bottle away from the boy’s grasp. She hopes that faking her anger would make Blondie forget about his because oh my goodness she would never, ever, ever apologize for what she did. The brown, curly-headed boy smile down at her in amusement, showing two pits of dimples and there, Cosette melts. BUT NOT LITERALLY. AND ONLY A LITTLE BIT.
Boy 1: “I’m Ashton!” He quips happily. Cosette grins back with a bigger set of smiles and grapples the bottle in her hands.
Blondie cuts the happy moment with a growl.
Blondie: “YOU THREW THAT BOTTLE AT ME!?”
Cosette wanted to shave his hair and sell it to charity at that moment.
Cosette: “Yes, I did. BUT BECAUSE YOU LAUGHED AT MY PLAY.”
Blondie: “BECAUSE IT WAS ABSOLUTELY SAPPY AND STUPID AND HILLARIOUS. I BELIEVE THAT ONLY SOMEONE AS STUPID AS YOU COULD WRITE A MORBID PLAY LIKE THAT, SEEING THAT YOU THREW A BOTTLE AT ME JUST BECAUSE I LAUGHED AT ONE SCENE.”
Cosette: “THE PLAY WAS SUPPOSED TO BE LIKE THAT. AND EXCUSE ME, BLONDIE, I AM ACTUALLY ONE OF MANHATTAN’S TOP COMING-OF-AGE PLAYWRIGHTS! [as seen on New York Times and on the cover of TIMES] AND EH-HEM, YOU DID NOT JUST LAUGH AT ONE SCENE. YOU LAUGHED AT LEAST TWO! OH MYGLOB, GET YOUR FACTS RIGHT!”
Ashton: *squeals* “Adventure Time!”
Cosette runs down the hallway.
I guess it didn’t exactly happenthat way, seeing that I loved exaggerating things. But anyway, even to this hour, I could still hear Blondie’s demeaning shouts of anger in my ears, echoing through the room. Was my play really that bad? I could ask Brandon this, but I believed that plays weren’t exactly his forte in Art.
The second the doorbell rang, I immediately went back to my reality; still feeling as shitty as ever.
“Oh, my glob!” Brandon squealed from the front door with this happy, icky voice. I was quite interested on what he had that made him so excited, so I sat down on the sofa with a cup of tea in my hands, waiting for the guy. In front of me was the transparent window that held the city skyline and if you could see really closely, a bight lit of stars. I let out a small smile as realized I should be a slight as bit happy. The room was dark, only lit by the city lights, the A.C was cranked up to Brandon’s perfect “Sweather Weather” air, and I was in my warm night clothes. Nothing could ruin this night, especially that lip-ringed, insufferable teenager boy who seemed like a human giant.
After the door banged close, ranging the usual vibration throughout the room and an angry knock from a pissed neighbour on a wall, Brandon walked back to me with our Italian food from the Chef Robert’s down the first floor of the apartment. Once he kicked of his Converse, which made me cringe as I saw that he had no socks on, and swiftly sat his butt down on our comfy sofa, he turned to me with a psychotic smile. His hand was raised towards me, a flyer in hand.
“Yeah?” He encouraged with his awesome ways, nodding at me to have a look at the colourful flyer. I rolled my eyes and swiped it from him, inches away from tearing it. As he gave me once excited last look, he went up to get two pairs of a spoon and fork from the kitchen.
I looked down to see what he was so enthralled about… only to see bright colored balloons and… a ferris wheel?
“You’re going to a carnival?!” I shouted in disbelief. “You hate clowns!”
He walked out with the utensils and a smirk. “I’m taking a date! And when I do get freaked out of my mind, I have a reason to cuddle about.”
I widen at him, nodding my head expressively.
“Wow, I’m impressed. You’re one horny gay guy.” I drawled out, making him swat at my face. I laughed and grabbed a fork for my Pesto.
“Oh,” He started nonchalantly, grabbing his box of food. “He’s taking a friend… Sooo, you’recomingwithme. YIPE-“
“BRANDON!”
“You what?!”My striking boyfriend-material flatmate intentionally yelled as he slapped his steaming cup of some Starbucks rip-off down on our glass kitchen island. Chocolate liquid dropped on our carpeted floor with a blink of the eye, which resulted to his Yorkie “Percy Jackson” quickly lapping the drops up. It was extremely funny to watch his morbid expressions on everything and anything that approached gossip and drama, but this time I no longer held a seat beside him while sitting back and watching and eating all the popcorn. I was the eye of the inevitable drama.
I eyed him in wary distress, but nodded anyway. My over-sized T-shirt made me feel homey in this casual nine o’clock Friday evening as it always did, but because of the harsh recollection of what occurred that morning... It practically ruined my whole day.
“Yeah,” my naked toes prodded Percy the Dog’s thirsty mouth away from the dirty carpet.
“I mighthaveormighthavenotalmostmaybelikeyly squished Luke Hemmings to his inevitable pig-like death.”
“Wow.” Brandon widened his eyes at me with some new-found admiration. “You got some nerves of steel, my lovely non-gay friend,” He slow clapped with a straight face, making me roll my eyes at him.
As I stood upon that semi-clean, twenty-year-old apartment floor on a sombre and cool Friday evening, facing my unlikely best friend in the kitchen with an marble island in between of us (plus, Brandon’s dog on the floor), I had this euphoria that I was clearly, insufferably and impossibly messed up.
And it was all Blondie’s fault.
In which way would I tell the story without making it look like I was some unordinary 18-year-old jerk face with 115 lbs of skin and bones? Ah, yes! On that very morning, I accidentally had a… unbecoming accident. Like any other playwright, it should only be best if I illustrated the memory my own way.
Once again, it all started a lot of hours earlier, where in I seriously I had to do my business (curse you, Evian and your unintentional intentions of making me pee and your ugly ratchet brand name!)…
The scene starts with naked lights beaming over the long, black hallway casts with numerous doors on both left and right. For some odd reason, the boys’ comfort room is pink and the girls’ comfort room is the opposite (It was mint green, duh. What did you think it was?). Cosette Billings waits at the threshold of the girl’s comfort room, wondering how the hell the wonderful and awesome girl was going to walk pass the opened boys’ comfort room without being 100% seen.
Cosette: *thinks* “Aha! I shall walk pass these hallways with near-slowness of an age-old turtle and seem as if I was like a simple fragile fawn that walked in the deep blooming rainforests of the Amazon.” [Clarification that Cosette Billings did not comprehend that fawns were not to be found in the Amazon]
She walks out slowly and timidly. Although her first plan screamed with evil-genius-ology and certified awesomeness, she changes her mind the moment the blonde boy finishes washing his hair out of the sticky Arizona Tea liquid in the boys’ comfort room [without Cosette’s knowing].
All of a sudden, her legs explode and she starts running. However, in the moment she does, Blondie make his way out of the comfort, unaware of the protagonist running. Both of their physiques bang into each other like a fat elephant crashing into another fat elephant. Instead of total chaos, Cosette lands on top of the guy; immediately seeing the amazing dangly sticks of man legs, a mint green polo, dripping wet hair, and a lip ring. Cosette, in that instant, did not like him at all. Mostly because of the lip ring.
Blondie: “Get offa me!”
Blondie squeals like a stuck pig; in which, in a way, he kind of was. Cosette grumpily and accidentally kicks his right leg in the duration she pushes herself up. Blondie groans in annoyance and yells at her.
Blondie: “What the fuck!”
Cosette hears the Australian accent that is mixed with such unworthy set of dialogue, but she cannot help but drool mentally while she is pissed. Other boys (or such handsome giants) walks out in shock as they see such scene. Blondie stands up quickly, with anger of course.
Blondie: “Why did you just do that?!”
Cosette feels frightened as Blondie stands up with his full height. Her head only reached his chest, making her feel wimpy and a baby fawn. She is angered by this so like how Cosette really was, she yells at him; turning the tables.
Cosette: “IT WAS YOU!”
He is, all of sudden, silent. The other boys stare at her in surprise. Cosette waddles [due to her unbelievable hurting coccyx] over a tall boy with brown curls holding the Arizona Tea bottle, as they stare at her.
Cosette: “I BELIEVE THIS IS MINE.” She toots with a snarl, swiping the empty bottle away from the boy’s grasp. She hopes that faking her anger would make Blondie forget about his because oh my goodness she would never, ever, ever apologize for what she did. The brown, curly-headed boy smile down at her in amusement, showing two pits of dimples and there, Cosette melts. BUT NOT LITERALLY. AND ONLY A LITTLE BIT.
Boy 1: “I’m Ashton!” He quips happily. Cosette grins back with a bigger set of smiles and grapples the bottle in her hands.
Blondie cuts the happy moment with a growl.
Blondie: “YOU THREW THAT BOTTLE AT ME!?”
Cosette wanted to shave his hair and sell it to charity at that moment.
Cosette: “Yes, I did. BUT BECAUSE YOU LAUGHED AT MY PLAY.”
Blondie: “BECAUSE IT WAS ABSOLUTELY SAPPY AND STUPID AND HILLARIOUS. I BELIEVE THAT ONLY SOMEONE AS STUPID AS YOU COULD WRITE A MORBID PLAY LIKE THAT, SEEING THAT YOU THREW A BOTTLE AT ME JUST BECAUSE I LAUGHED AT ONE SCENE.”
Cosette: “THE PLAY WAS SUPPOSED TO BE LIKE THAT. AND EXCUSE ME, BLONDIE, I AM ACTUALLY ONE OF MANHATTAN’S TOP COMING-OF-AGE PLAYWRIGHTS! [as seen on New York Times and on the cover of TIMES] AND EH-HEM, YOU DID NOT JUST LAUGH AT ONE SCENE. YOU LAUGHED AT LEAST TWO! OH MYGLOB, GET YOUR FACTS RIGHT!”
Ashton: *squeals* “Adventure Time!”
Cosette runs down the hallway.
I guess it didn’t exactly happenthat way, seeing that I loved exaggerating things. But anyway, even to this hour, I could still hear Blondie’s demeaning shouts of anger in my ears, echoing through the room. Was my play really that bad? I could ask Brandon this, but I believed that plays weren’t exactly his forte in Art.
The second the doorbell rang, I immediately went back to my reality; still feeling as shitty as ever.
“Oh, my glob!” Brandon squealed from the front door with this happy, icky voice. I was quite interested on what he had that made him so excited, so I sat down on the sofa with a cup of tea in my hands, waiting for the guy. In front of me was the transparent window that held the city skyline and if you could see really closely, a bight lit of stars. I let out a small smile as realized I should be a slight as bit happy. The room was dark, only lit by the city lights, the A.C was cranked up to Brandon’s perfect “Sweather Weather” air, and I was in my warm night clothes. Nothing could ruin this night, especially that lip-ringed, insufferable teenager boy who seemed like a human giant.
After the door banged close, ranging the usual vibration throughout the room and an angry knock from a pissed neighbour on a wall, Brandon walked back to me with our Italian food from the Chef Robert’s down the first floor of the apartment. Once he kicked of his Converse, which made me cringe as I saw that he had no socks on, and swiftly sat his butt down on our comfy sofa, he turned to me with a psychotic smile. His hand was raised towards me, a flyer in hand.
“Yeah?” He encouraged with his awesome ways, nodding at me to have a look at the colourful flyer. I rolled my eyes and swiped it from him, inches away from tearing it. As he gave me once excited last look, he went up to get two pairs of a spoon and fork from the kitchen.
I looked down to see what he was so enthralled about… only to see bright colored balloons and… a ferris wheel?
“You’re going to a carnival?!” I shouted in disbelief. “You hate clowns!”
He walked out with the utensils and a smirk. “I’m taking a date! And when I do get freaked out of my mind, I have a reason to cuddle about.”
I widen at him, nodding my head expressively.
“Wow, I’m impressed. You’re one horny gay guy.” I drawled out, making him swat at my face. I laughed and grabbed a fork for my Pesto.
“Oh,” He started nonchalantly, grabbing his box of food. “He’s taking a friend… Sooo, you’recomingwithme. YIPE-“
“BRANDON!”
Haha a weird story but also very funny and entertaining. Keep it up!
5/25/15