Disclaimer: I don't own it
Chapter Eight
Brown Eye's POV
Disintegration… he fucking bought me Disintegration.
When I finish reciting the lyric he started from the first track of the album, his smile is beautiful. All lopsided and handsome. I'm sure he practiced that shit as a teenager. Probably got plenty of ass with that smile.
"Do I get a thank you Brown Eyes?" he asks hopefully.
"Thanks Stalkerboy." I'm still in shock.
No one's ever bought me music before.
There's a weird tingly sensation in the corner of my eyes. New Bella starts freaking out.
Is this a beginning sign that you're having a stroke?
"I'm going to go get you some more coffee," I say quickly, up on my feet and halfway across the room before I finish the sentence.
Uncle Charlie gives me a worried look as I throw the swinging door that leads to the kitchen open. My chest is hurting and my nose feels stuffy, like I'm getting a cold. My eyes are still freaking tingling.
"You alright, kiddo?" he asks, not hiding the fact that he's eating one of my muffins.
"Uh... I don't know," I groan, clutching the album to my chest and pressing my free hand into my eye.
I feel something moist and pull my hand away, thinking that I'm bleeding from my eyeballs. But it's clear, water-like and making my palm shimmer under the fluorescent lights that hang from the ceiling.
"What the fuck is this?" I cry out.
Uncle Charlie pulls my hand to his face, still chewing might I add. He ponders for a second, looks at what I'm clutching to my chest.
"The boy give you that?" he asks.
I nod.
Why the fuck are my eyes leaking?
Uncle Charlie doesn't say anything. Instead he opens his arms and pulls me into his fluffy chest.
"They're tears, kiddo." He pats my back. "That boy's breaking you out of your armadillo shell."
Huh. Tears.
I'm crying. I can't remember the last time I cried. The first time I heard Here Comes Irregular by The Replacements when I was seventeen and was going through my dad's old music maybe. I didn't cry when I came home and found that Jake had abandoned me. I didn't cry when I realized he took every album I worked hard to collect, including a copy of the one that I'm holding against me.
But now I am.
"How's it feel?" Uncle Charlie asks after a minute.
"What?" I sniffle, pulling away so that I can wipe the faucet that was once my nose on a towel.
"To feel? You haven't shown any emotion in the three months you've been here. How's it feel to have your walls come down a little?"
I lean against the compartment sink and ponder for a second.
"Sort of like I'm standing in front of important people in the buff," I squirm. "I don't think I like it."
"It's part of being human, kiddo. You gotta let those walls come down sometime." He smiles and wipes under my eye. "Otherwise you'll end up fat and alone, running a coffee shop while your brother lives the life you wanted."
"Mom and Dad live unbearably boring lives, Uncle Charlie. Why do you think I called you instead? And I don't have a brother."
"Semantics." He rolls his eyes. "You better get back out there before the boy thinks you're mental."
I walk over to the door with a giggle. "But I am mental."
Stalkerboy looks like I kicked his puppy when I walk up to the table holding a fresh pot of coffee.
"Why are your eyes red?" he asks, a crease forming in between his brows.
"What? Oh, my uncle burned something in the kitchen and it's smoky back there." I cough for good measure.
He can probably tell I'm lying, but he doesn't say anything. I set the carafe down on the table and take my seat. The Italian dressing has started to separate in my salad, but that's okay. I wasn't hungry to begin with and I don't particularly like salad. I only got it because Stalkerboy gives off that vibe that he's into girls that eat like rabbits and I stupidly wanted to impress him.
"You don't like it." His frown deepens and he begins to ramble. "I just thought that you would like it because of your tattoo and your shirt. I own a shop a couple blocks away. You can come in and trade it. Anything you want."
"Why would I want to trade it in?" I ask, realizing then that I'm still holding it. I set it on the table. "Disintegration is the first album I ever bought."
"Of course you would already have it," he whines, face palming.
"No, I don't." I pause. "It was lost. And I haven't had a chance to find a replacement."
He looks at me apprehensively between two spread fingers. "Really?"
"Why would I lie to you, Stalkerboy?" I ask, using his previous words. "Thank you. I really love it."
"You're welcome." His smile is radiant. I can practically see his pearly white molars that's how wide it is. "It's the deluxe edition."
"I noticed," I chuckle. "So you own a music shop? That's cool."
"It is cool. I actually share the shop with BC's mom. My part is the better half of course... all music," he smiles. "Alice is your typical comic book junkie."
"Like Green Lantern and The Flash?" I lean forward, allowing my inner geek to escape.
"Yeah, BC was actually named after Batman and Superman's alter egos," he chuckles sadly. "Lately business has been falling short, so she's started to dabble in a little action fig-" He looks down at his phone. "HOLY SHIT!"
"Oh dude!" Stalkerboy cries out as he gathers up the baby stuff and throws a bill on the table. "I was supposed to be at the shop twenty minutes ago to meet with a collector. She's gonna kill me."
He doesn't say bye as he hurries out the door.
Okay then.
lol. how ridiculous. Not knowing what tears are. Bitch definitely has some issues that even Dr. Phil wouldn't touch. I feel like these chapters are moving at a snails pace but I promise it speeds up a little later. See you soon
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