HOW IS EVERYBODY DOING?! I miss all of you! I know it's been a long time since but like I promised...I tried writing a few scenes from Elliot's perspective! Here's one of it and while it was a bit weird going into Elliot's head, I hope y'all will enjoy it!
I need your opinions guys!
I will also be moving this to another link where Elliot's musings. I'll put it in the next post! But I wouldn't promise any time for it. I hope you guys are still as patient as ever!
Love love love!
"Where in the bloody hell did it go?"
I muttered under my breathe as I rummaged through my sling bag, looking for a few missing music sheets I'd been writing a new song into. It wasn't that I could not remember the words. Or the lyrics. But that song was very personal to me. It was one of the few songs I really poured my heart into. And I didn't want it flying somewhere in the cold moist bloody London air.
I had a girl in mind writing that song. A beautiful girl named Olivia. You could say she was the inspiration for that whole "for you I'd bend the rules" lyrics but something just never felt right. And I couldn't put a finger to it. I liked Olivia. A lot. She was one of the few good friends I made during my first year in LAA. And I'm pretty sure she liked me back too. We were both attracted to each other. But that was just it. Like.
Maybe that's why something didn't feel right writing that kind of love song. If it weren't for the bloody request my band mate asked me to, I guess I'd never write that song. Desperate times call for desperate measures. Up to the point that I'd imagine myself being in love. Because really, I could never imagine myself writing a song for someone. Like really writing a song for the purpose of singing it to someone. It's bleeding cheesy and just the thought of it makes me cringe. Our band might play love songs 90% of the time but I've only written that remaining 10%. Nope, it didn't feel right to write something about you've never felt before.
I stepped out of the elevator the moment the door ding-ed open. I almost forgot I was going to meet my new flat mate tonight. I had been praying that this person wasn't like the last flat mate I had. The guy was bloody nasty. Mr. Simons said his name was Bobby. Honestly, when I heard the name, I thought of a bearded guy with a big round beer belly who wears a hat all the time. Or maybe I just expected the worst. You know, to prepare myself.
I walked down the hallway and stopped in front of my door. I could see light pouring out from the space between the door and the floor. I took a deep breathe and pulled out my key card. I hope Bobby's a nice person. Here goes nothing.
I stepped one foot forward as I pushed open the door but it hit something behind and I ended up slamming my forehead on it. What the hell?!
I cursed under my head, feeling a hot spot on my forehead and shoved away the trolleys blocking the doorway. I haven't even met this Bobby guy but I already got the feeling I wouldn't like him. Frowning and pissed off, I looked up only to find a girl sitting on my couch.
She had these big blue eyes and her hair was up in a messy bun. She also had a jar of what looks like peanut butter in one hand and a spoon was in her mouth. She looked like a little girl and I wanted to smile at how cute she looked like. I'd never seen such pretty eyes. The frown in my face faded quickly. Then she blinked at me. Once, twice.
We both asked the same question at the same time, asking who the other person was.
"This is where I live," I said and surprisingly, she said the same exact words.
Don't tell me…Mr. Simons offered the room to a girl?
She practically flew out of the couch like a tiger. Oh boy, she's pissed.
But just to play with her, I smirked. Nothing like getting to annoy someone at the end of a tiring day. "I'm not sure you are sure about that, little girl," I said.
That sealed the deal. She rolled her eyes and I was pretty sure she cursed me somewhere in between for calling her little girl. She stomped towards me, expecting for a slap on my face but instead, she shoved me on the side and checked on the number on the door if she really was in 501.
I shrugged and followed her with my eyes. Because honestly, this was also a little hard to process. Having a girl as a flat mate? That was serious business.
"Are you sure you live here?" She asked me, pouting her lips.
I scoffed. "Absolutely."
"Well, I'm supposed to be living in the same apartment with a girl," she argued, crossing her arms.
I raised one eyebrow. Was she saying I was the one who was in the wrong room? Couldn't she get it? Or was she really that slow? Since I couldn't think of anything to say to her, I just stared. Because really, I had no plans on explaining everything to her.
Seconds past and it was starting to feel awkward staring into each other's eyes. Her eyes was the color of the sea and while I wouldn't have any problem looking right at something that beautiful, it was odd.
"You mean you live here?" she barely whispered.
Finally, she realized what the situation was. I sighed and rolled my eyes. As much as thankful I was that Bobby wasn't the same guy I had imagined, I knew living with a girl would be much harder.
I placed my guitar on the couch and started to the fridge, suddenly feeling all thirsty.
"Bobby, you're name's Bobby?" I asked her. She was still standing by the doorway, frozen.
When she said yes, I just couldn't help but let out a little laugh. Mr. Simons outdid himself.
But I guess she didn't take it well. Because the next thing I knew, she was mad at me for laughing. What's her problem?
I told her maybe because her name sounded like a guy's name and she didn't tell it well either. Bloody. Nope, I wouldn't want to put up with that kind of attitude. And girls' head were freaking weird. One second they're pouting, the next they were going Godzilla on you. Maybe I can just request for the Beer Belly Bobby?
She stormed her way out of the flat, dialing Mr. Simons number. I knew that was going to be an interesting conversation so I lightly jogged to the door and pressed my ear on it.
I heard her shouting her name repeatedly and I had to try my best not to laugh or snicker. Mr. Simons was the hardest person to talk to. It wasn't that he wasn't nice. It simply was just hard to talk to him.
She kept on shouting and I just wished our neighbors wouldn't cut her throat open for being so loud in the evening.
"Mr. Simons," she let out a big sigh. "I am a girl. How am I supposed to live in the same flat with a guy I don't even know?"
I scoffed and rolled my eyes. "Please, I wouldn't even touch a singe strand of your hair," I whispered to myself.
A few more seconds and I could barely hear her voice anymore. I guess the storm had passed. Then I heard footsteps coming to the door.
Panicking for a second, I quickly ran across the flat and threw my body on the couch. One of the most embarrassing thing that could happen to a person is to get caught eavesdropping. I grabbed the magazine on the table and tried my best to calm myself down. Act chill.
Then the door opened and she was there. Looking all defeated. Watching her had been gleefully interesting.
"Mr. Simons switched the papers," she sighed.
I wanted to say duh but I didn't want add fuel to the fire. So instead, I took a deep breathe and stood up.
"Uh, is that okay with you?" She asked. And I could read there was a tinge of nervousness in her voice.
Do I look like a heartless man? It was night time. Of course I wouldn't as her to leave just like that.
"Are you going to leave if I kicked you out?" I asked instead.
"Of course not," she snapped at me. Well, strong attitude for a girl. I guess she'd survive the night in the streets even if I kicked her out.
"Though so," I snapped back. I was done for the day. I was tired and I needed sleep.
"But it'll only be until Mr. Simons figured something out. It's just that I'm a girl and you're a guy. And living arrangements like this weren't usual," she explained.
I stopped walking and laughed out loud. Is that her way of telling me to stay away from her? Seriously.
I pivoted and looked at her from head to toe. "You do not seem harmful." I said with a complete poker face. "And you're completely not my type," I added and turned around, shutting the bedroom door behind my back before she could see the grin on my face.
She was refreshingly funny. Fun to annoy. Fun to watch being annoyed.
"OF COURSE I'M NOT HARMFUL AND YOU'RE NOT MY TYPE EITHER!" She yelled at my door. Then I heard tiny footsteps before a loud bang that I assumed was her door.
I laughed out loud. This was going to be interesting. But then I wonder, how was I going to keep up with this?