Red Hot Omelets

William Terry Louis Andrew Carrick Jonathan Dredge Hams Reading Roger Southwark Alwick Plymouth Junior Regison III is a wealthy man visiting Waffle Island in the hopes of finding reliable business partners. Gill just can't be bothered.

Awkward, awkward, awkward; was there any other word to describe this predicament? The last time they spoke Gill practically slammed a door in Will's face. So how was he to suddenly act nice? Should he give the blond a gift? Then he realized: I don't even know what that guy likes. Favorite food, hobby, color—nothing! Well, he remembered Will was fond of that white stallion, but what could you buy for a horse?

Gill fretted with the bathroom mirror, haphazardly swiping his bangs from one side to the other but no matter what he did he couldn't find himself presentable. Gill had always been a straightforward lad, but he just couldn't bring himself to ask that person any questions.

A knock at the door jolted him from his thoughts. "Gill, are you in there?"

He sighed in relief at the sound of his father's voice, "I'll be out soon, father." With one more swipe he patted his hair, nodded, and headed for the kitchen, only stopping last-minute to swing around and catch his father closing the door. "Father! What would you like for breakfast?"

Hamilton hesitated as though it were a trick question, answering in a slow, unsure drawl, "Something…simple?"

"I got it," Gill spun around and stormed into the kitchen leaving behind a confused Hamilton. It wasn't often he asked anyone else what they wanted to eat—he usually just made food he liked to eat, but the answer satisfied him. You can't go wrong with simple, can you? But….what's "simple"?

"Something simple…." He repeated, glancing at the half-empty carton of eggs. That reminded him, he needed to drop by Brownie Ranch to pick up a couple dozen eggs. With the extra guest he found himself using up a lot of ingredients. "Fried eggs, it is."

Will wasn't even up yet—which was surprising considering it was Gill who was out drinking all night. Nevertheless breakfast was ready by the time the blond came hobbling down the stairs wearing nothing but pajama pants. Gill raised an eyebrow at the rare sight, but otherwise didn't say a word as he set the table. Will ventured to the bathroom, mumbling a small 'good morning', only to turn around upon realizing it was occupied.

"You sure work a lot, at your job, and at home," he commented idly as he took a seat.

Gill swallowed; he prided himself in his work ethic, but wasn't used to being praised for it.

They ate together in awkward silence, neither wanting to even eat loudly lest they break it. "I… wanted to make something—you know, to your taste, but I realized I didn't know what you like…" Gill stuttered out the side of his mouth, quickly stuffing in a piece of toast to stop the train wreck.

Will seemed pleasantly surprised at the effort, "This is just fine. Thank you."

Gill gulped. He desperately needed a topic to keep the conversation going, when it clicked. "Th—there's a festival today!" He'd honestly forgotten all about it!

Luckily it seemed to stir some interest because the sleepy-eyed Will suddenly seemed alert and awake. "Ah, that's right. Anissa mentioned it the other day."

His gush of excitement shrunk into a tiny shroom of disappointment. Gill poked his egg with a vengeance, looking everywhere but his companion. "I see…that means she asked you."

"No, she didn't," said Will simply.

A door opened and closed in the background as Hamilton emerged fresh from his morning shower. He looked particularly chipper as he sat across from them, rubbing his hands together. Gill had to admit, his dad was cute in that old-man kind of way. "So, are we excited about this evening?"

"Quite," replied Will who seemed more than happy to divert his attentions to someone else for once. Gill grumbled inwardly about the blond bastard not wanting to associate with him—Gill was a pretty grumpy host… "I was hoping for your son to accompany me." Alright, he didn't quite expect that.

Gill stared at him from the corner of his eye, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead, "You want me…to go with you?"

"Of course," the blond smiled innocently. "Is there a problem?"

"Uh, well…" he could feel the heat rising to his face. He never actually celebrated the Sea Festival namely because he had no girls he was interested in. The previous years he would be content to stay indoors and read a book and only ventured out for the fireworks out of obligation. It's really an event suited for young couples, but how could he say that?

"He'd love to go!" his father chimed in with a goofy grin on his face, much to Gill's chagrin.

At least he didn't have to explain that mess.

"You would?" Will asked.

"Of course," Gill confirmed, his eyes remaining fixed on his plate.

If there were anything Gill were thankful for that day it was that he didn't have to go to work. Normally he relished his work with vigor unlike anyone else in town but today he was just too anxious. They were going to meet by the billboard at around 4pm, but he was there at three. Was that pathetic? He shifted nervously from one side to the other as couples walked by. He thought he even spotted Luke and Phoebe—now there was a bizarre couple if he'd ever seen one. Sometimes he wondered if he'd ever find a girl to be all…'love-dovey' with. No way, he shook his head vigorously, that's just absurd. Such public displays of affection were totally unnecessary!

"Are you here by yourself, or are you waiting for someone?" the familiar voice grabbed his attention.

Angela was standing so close to him he could feel her breath on his collar, her eyes disturbingly sparkly. Gill shivered at her giddiness, "And who are you dolled up for?"

The girl took a step back and spun around, showing off the frills of her new green dress. "Do you think I'm pretty?"

"That's a joke, right? You're kidding," he teased, smirking as the girl puffed up her cheeks at him. On a more serious note, he tapped his watch, "I'm waiting for someone, but…they're late."

"Ohhh," her voice quieted as she stood should-to-shoulder with him. "I think I'll wait with you. I'm waiting for someone, too."

"A boy?"

She blushed, her eyes darted to the ground suspiciously, "Um…no… I'm going to watch the fireworks with a f—friend this year." Gill arched a delicate brow, but didn't question any further. She tilted her head curiously, "What about you? A girl?"

Gill blinked at the question before turning to the side, grumbling as he rubbed his arm, "A friend."

The two fell into silence with only the crashing waves rumbling far in the background. It was only after around 4:30pm that they began to fidget. Gill craned his head to look at his watch for the umpteenth time, "They're really late, aren't they."

"They're probably not coming, aren't they," Angela added, staring at her sparkly new flats.

"…What will you do?" he asked tentatively glancing at his friend.

She glanced back, giving a small shrug, "I can wait another thirty minutes or so…"

Thirty minutes? Try an hour on for size, thought Gill as they waited just that. Impatience replaced by irritation replaced by anger, he was just about ready to turn in for the night, fireworks be damned! And poor Angela looked about ready to cry. Gill furrowed his brow; he couldn't very well leave a girl all alone with such a sad face, let alone one of his only friends. "Say, Angela, why don't we go together?"

She snapped up as though she'd been rudely awakened. "Y—you think we should?" she stuttered.

Gill rolled his eyes, "They obviously aren't coming."

"Y—yeah…" her crestfallen eyes didn't change even as the scenery did. They moved to the beach where a few others were sprawled about on the sand, waiting for the light works to begin. Angela whipped out some skewered shrimp and squid she bought earlier and they shared it together as the first spark lit the sky. Somehow, the typically marvelous ballet of colors looked spectacularly less magnificent this year.

Gill chewed on a piece of squid, staring blankly at the sky as his anger melted away. Whatever happened tonight, he'd just forget about it, he decided. He took a moment to check his watch when out of the corner of his eye he happened to catch a glimpse of white. Squinting through the darkness, he could make out a tail of flowing white frills—a girl tipping on her heels to plant a peck on a tall boy's cheek. Gill dropped his squid ceremoniously on Angela's lap as his jaw dropped in horror.

"What the hell is this?" he stammered, shocking the girl away from the flashy fireworks. She stood up from the sand as though she spotted a crab, grabbing his arm so tightly he thought it'd fall off. It might as well fall off!

"What? What happened?" Angela caught what he was staring at, took in the sight, breathed deeply, "What the hell is that?"