It's Saturday
night. I want to sleep, or maybe just work, here, alone, in the
silence. But it's Saturday night and I live in an apartment. I slam
my fist into the wall, furious at no one in particular for having a
good time and drinking a bit too much and having their music turned
on a bit too loud. I curse those kids next door for partying here
instead of in one of their fancy clubs.
Those
kids.
Ha. I'm scarcely more than a
kid myself, but somehow I find myself being so much more mature than
those idiots dancing away to some techno crap on the other side of my
excruciatingly thin wall. I briefly consider yelling some nasty
insult at the morons, but I know I'm better than that so I just
ignore them. Hopefully sooner or later they'll quiet down or move
the party elsewhere. Ha.
Of course they won't.
It's Monday
morning, about nine o' clock. I woke up hours ago – I barely ever
sleep - but why should I bother going anywhere? I don't work, since
my grandmother died a few years ago and I got all her money. I have
no friends – not that I need them. Hence, there's hardly ever a
reason to leave my apartment.
I never have much of an appetite
when I wake up, thus I've waited till now with my breakfast. I make
my way over to the fridge. Fuck.
There's no milk. I desperately need my waffles in the morning –
it's a habit I've had since childhood – so I'll just have to
go buy some milk. Fuuck.
I wasn't planning on going anywhere! I was planning on sitting at
home, making my art, in my blissful silence and solitude. Not
go to a stupid, noisy supermarket with stupid, noisy people to buy
milk. I
frown irritably, grab my keys and cell and start half-walking,
half-running to the supermarket. It's a short walk, and it's a
beautiful day, but I don't particularly feel like stopping to enjoy
the sunshine. When I get to the supermarket, I just walk straight
past the people and the shelves and the noise
and to the dairy section. I grab a few
cartons of milk and make my way to the register.
A gasp.
A
glimpse of blonde hair.
Then, a loud thud
and before I know it I'm on the floor
and one of the milk cartons is broken and there's milk all over my
shirt and the person in front of me is angry and I can't see
why.
"Hey, redhead! Watch where the fuck you're going,
un!!"
The person – is it a girl or a boy? – is glaring
daggers at me, but at the sight of my usual icy cold glare he – I'm
almost certain it's a he – pulls back in what may or may not be
fear.
"Shut the hell up and get me a new carton of milk,
blondie. Congratulations, you just might have ruined my day!"
He
flinches and looks away.
"I-I'm sorry, un… I'll pay for
your shirt."
Then he gets a dangerous glint in his eyes as he
smiles at me.
"Or… I could take you out to lunch, un."
I
raise an eyebrow.
"I've never met you before, you just ruined
my shirt and a carton of perfectly good milk, and you want me to have
lunch with
you?"
"Why not? I've apologized by going on dates with
people before, un, and I don't see why you should be any
different!"
"Thanks, but I don't date whores. Will you
please give me my money and get out of my face?"
He looks
shocked. And angry. I think he was under the impression that I
somehow liked
him.
The idiot.
"That was
extremely rude. But I'm going to be nice and say we can still have
lunch. Come on… it won't even be a date! Just an apology, un."
I
sigh.
"Will you keep annoying me until I say yes?"
"Yes,
un!"
"Then fine."
He squeals – stupid girly fuck –
and smiles widely.
"I'll give you my phone number, un!"
