Chapter Text
Boring.
That's the word Pezzy would use to describe his usual days without the concern for elaboration.
You'd probably initially think he meant the synonymy of being uneventful or unexciting, and for that, he'd hardly disagree. Compared to everyone else around him, he didn't have any big aspirations or ambitious dreams other than what you would expect after a realistic release from college. He also had no drive to deviate from such a path, not because he was scared, but simply because he had no reason to do so in the first place.
And it was boring into him.
Sure, he's doing fine for himself. He's doing average in college with credits to boot, he has a family who supports him, and even has a part-time job that fits his interests. The list could go on about how ordinary he is.
Honestly, he felt awful for thinking he could even complain. There's a little voice in his head declaring that ungratefulness and discontent are equivalent to sin, yet he couldn't help but feed into the temptation and feel unsatisfied, especially after he's gone through more than half of his time in college. He never realized just how much he dropped— Hell, how little he gained.
This realization, this newfound yet restless fear of narcotic mediocrity to come by a learning young adult, is the second definition to his life… and he needed something to do to put it out of its misery.
"Just another blue dream, lazy in the afternoon…" Pezzy mumbled the lyrics as they played into his headphones. It was nerdy that he could tell the song by the first couple of seconds.
The tune elicited an imagery of passing rosy and saffron clouds in the cerulean skies. It brought his eyes to peek over at the wispy yet sullen vastness out his window. They weren't what he imagined, but he couldn't just blame it on time and weather. Just staring tired him out. Even then, it was only half past noon.
He was partially, if not fully, zoned out. His mind seemingly numbed from understimulation and meandering lesser worries. He wasn't sure if it was his tedium research or his attention deficiency kicking in despite doing something he would usually enjoy. Either way, everything, from his state of mind to the earlier recounted options, felt unimportant.
He was so far gone, he hadn't realized his roommate, Nelson, or Grizzy, by friends, had come back. It wasn't like Grizzy didn't have classes. Pezzy isn't really sure about his schedule, but he's sure that Grizzy himself would never properly follow it. He's not sure how the guy has kept himself in college so far… other than his scholarship hinging on his ability to knock someone's teeth out and extra help from his connections, including Pezzy.
Grizzy glanced over at his senior— Well, he was a sophomore, Pezzy was a junior— and noticed the near static position he was in other than the rolling of a pen between fingers. From the lack of a greeting, he'd assume that Pezzy was doing schoolwork or studying for a test, yet he squinted and knew better.
He made his way to the side of Pezzy's desk, making his presence known and making Pezzy acknowledge it. Grizzy says something to him. Although the headphones are still on Pezzy's head, Grizzy was banking on Pezzy hearing him through them. This, unsurprisingly, does not work, and he knew it wouldn't.
"Sorry, hold on, hold on," Pezzy modestly apologized while pulling down his headphones. "What is it?"
"Are you still visiting John?" Grizzy inquired again, seeing Pezzy quickly run his thumb over the touch pad to quickly pause his Spotify browser rather than just pressing the spacebar.
"Yeah, I am. Why?" Pezzy asked, glancing over at Grizzy with a quizzical look. "Are you not going anymore?"
"I will be, " Grizzy reassured him, "I might be a bit late, is all. Coach just told us we'll be having extra practice, and it's the one thing I don't really want to miss."
Pezzy hummed, nodding his head. "So how late we talking?" he asked further, already formulating what to say to John later today.
Grizzy was unsure of the exact details. He also wasn't sure how long his prior promised arrangements would take before this one. He tilted his head up and mumbled, "Considering I have to go help Rectrixx and Kruz first, then come back later…" he gave himself a few seconds before shrugging, playing it off with a small chuckle, "…who knows? But I can probably just do it anyway. No biggie."
Pezzy sighed at the response that could barely be called an answer. He shook his head and playfully taunted, "For a guy who never seems to attend classes, you sure seem to have a lot of things to do."
"Hey man," Grizzy started, pausing every other few words to add a humorous flair to his argument, "Just because I don't like doing school work, doesn't mean I don't like doing all work in general. You act like I haven't gotten by."
"Yeah, fucking barely," Pezzy shot playfully.
"And got by anyway! I'm still here and they can't do anything about it," Grizzy reiterated.
"I don't know, man… what will you do once I'm gone and can't do a last-minute edit for your assignment?" Pezzy jeered, taking Grizzy's smirk, who now looks embarrassed at the reminder. The playful pettiness made Grizzy squint at him.
"You still holding onto that favor?" It was rhetorical at best. Being told by Kryoz beforehand and talking to Pezzy enough himself, Grizzy knew that shit like that will stick to Pezzy's memory as long as he could be petty about it. Pezzy would debate that he had the right to.
Pezzy shook his head again while grinning slightly. As he clicked over to a different website, Grizzy could tell the exchange reminded the older of something wistful. Neither would be sure what gave it away, but perhaps past conversations had Grizzy knowing it from the back of his head. Grizzy looked over at the glowing screen, glancing over just a few elements and price tags to understand what Pezzy had been doing the past hour or so.
"Looking for tours and shows to go to again?" he wondered. One look and he internally cringed at the price tags in bold text in spite of the discount cuts the website was offering.
"Just to not die from boredom throughout the whole year," Pezzy yawned while leaning back on his chair. He was exhausted from doing nothing the whole afternoon. He swiveled his chair back and forth as he looked up at the dull ceiling, recounting the imperfections and marks on the paint.
"Unlike you, who has practice and production every other day, or John, who dropped out to do art and stir coffee around—" he stopped oscillating his chair"—I don't really do anything."
Grizzy silently glanced at the somber man and then at the multiple tabs on the browser, uncertain how the guy was even able to keep track of them— He doesn't, by the way— and remarked the oddness of his late behavior, "But you hate being around too many strangers, especially in unfamiliar places?"
"I know, right?" Pezzy giggled slightly at the honest notion. "But I kinda realized it's a bit depressing where I am right now. Like all I really do is be cooped up in here, do my homework, go to John's work, go to my actual work…" Pezzy rambled, trailing off as he registered his unintended coercion to a pity party a little too late. He quickly spoke again before Grizzy could feel unnecessarily guilty.
"I can bring you or John along too," Pezzy proposed. Grizzy looked back at him, making eye contact as Pezzy locked his head up. There was almost a small look of reluctance in the offering.
Grizzy gave a kind smile as he hesitated. "I don't know, I might be a little busy with football season around the corner," he admitted.
"Oh," is all that comes from Pezzy. He half-expected the answer, but still.
"Don't get me wrong, I'm down to vibe and drink and all that, but dude… getting tickets? and then going out for those shows is a lot of money and a bit of commitment," Grizzy rationalized. He didn't want Pezzy to feel bad for asking, not that he should be.
"Only you and John have jobs," he added, "I'm a sophomore on a sports scholarship… for a music course of all things."
Pezzy laughs a little. At least there was self-awareness with added hilarity. It wasn't like he was one to judge either; it was one of the alternative courses he threw in when he applied. Who knows what would happen if he went with that one instead? Perhaps he'd be doing choir again? Maybe a nagging from his mother or two… followed by acceptance by him or her.
"I only work part-time, but you're right. I don't know if we'll be able to cover all three of us." Pezzy hummed, finally moving his head to face Grizzy.
"Exactly," Grizzy chortled, "And I really don't want to get a job right now. I'd like to do my own thing, you know?"
Pezzy nodded his head in understanding. Grizzy was free to do as he liked. It's been long observed that if he didn't want to do something, he'd immediately state it. Sometimes it'd be with a lighthearted joke to soften the blow if he needed to. It translated through almost everything he's ever done as far as Pezzy knew. Many may not call it admirable, but even his professors are impressed by how such a mindset seemingly works out for him.
"But if you want, I can help you find concerts you might like," Grizzy pointed out. "I got a handful of connections and I practically know your taste anyway," he additionally remarked while walking away from Pezzy's desk to his own.
Pezzy raised an eyebrow at the idea. He and Grizzy have mutually shared their tastes in music and have a general enjoyment of it altogether, even Grizzy going as far as to seek help from him sometimes. It's probably because he's a bit of a nerd about it, but he'd digress.
"You know, like half of my taste."
"It's some emo shit."
Pezzy turned around with a look of feigned offense. Grizzy was hardly wrong for saying that, but did he have to be so blunt?
"It's indie and alternative, thank you very much." Pezzy corrected, lightly emphasizing the genres.
"So… Emo." The roommate was not swayed.
Pezzy gives him a frivolous, glaring look that can only be described as 'Now you're just making the same joke, a low-hanging one at that.'
"Hey, I'm just saying it's a bit– cough, very, cough– emo," Grizzy fake coughed as he sat down on his chair, trying to not smirk.
"Bruh."
"I'm not saying it's bad."
'Bitch-' Pezzy thought playfully.
"If it was bad, you wouldn't have listened to a whole Billie Eilish album in the shower last month and make me question if you were having a moment or something."
"Okay, but that album bangs."
"Emo."
"Do you want me to help you or not?" Grizzy finally interposed.
Got his ass.
"That'd be great." Pezzy snickered as they've circled back to Grizzy's offer.
Grizzy shook his head and turned around to open his own laptop, but Pezzy could catch the smile as he did to assure him the dumb conversation was taken well.
Grizzy plugged in his earphones as he spoke, "Then I'll see you at John's later."
Pezzy had an odd habit of having only one earphone plugged into his ear, or he'd have one part of his headphones slip out while conversing. Half the time, nothing would be on play. If it was a weird comfort thing, an ordinary quirk, or something else entirely, Pezzy hadn't decided how to explain it.
Occasionally, he'd be called rude or insensitive for doing so, notably by his elders or strangers with bad moods. Don't get him wrong, he understood why it would look like that. He was often distracted and still by other things of interest, but it's become annoying to assume he hadn't changed even the slightest. Sometimes, though, stressing that fact is less worth than getting stress from it.
He's learned to only really do it now in spaces he's comfortable in or with people who won't always be on his back for it. Few are given that so-called privilege. Kryoz, or John, and the coffee shop he works at are some of those few qualifiers.
"Don't you love music and shit?" Kryoz rhetorically questioned. "Why don't you learn how to play an instrument or do singing lessons again, like in middle school? You were good at it."
Pezzy lifted his head at him with a hum. Yet, his eyes were trained on the meticulous procedure of latte making— the swift estimation, the efficient tamping, the timing for a near-sickening smell of coffee. Novicial practice was nearly extinct.
"We even have a stage now in this place. You could make use of it," Kryoz continued, letting the machinery do the rest of the coffee work while he tipped milk into a stainless steel jug. He swirled it a few times while he spoke, "Might be more fun than just watching me make coffee."
Kryoz and the art of making coffee… Pezzy could recall the clumsiness and near-terrified uncertainty the working hands shook with. It was perhaps a little over a year ago. Now, they moved a little more naturally. Maybe not close to how Kryoz is with his artful strokes— confidence and inquisition laid in every swipe with graphite, oil, or other mediums— but it was settling into a different niche for Kryoz's artistic endeavors. Pezzy remained in awe of his childhood friend and persisted in being the nondescript one.
"First of all—" Pezzy started, raising a finger for his first point "—that was because my mom made me choose an extracurricular activity during summer, and the only reason I didn't choose a class with an instrument was because I wanted the money for a new video game." He even recalled inviting Kryoz to his house the night he got said video game.
"Second, you fucking know I have horrible stage fright." He used the same finger to point at Kryoz rather accusingly but in a playful manner, as if it was a crime for him to forget a detail the two have known since they were children.
"Third, I'm not really one to make it," Pezzy admitted.
"It's weird and hard to describe why I feel like that with music, but like..." he trailed off, looking up and around the empty air to try and find an intangible answer. "…I don't really want to be learning by myself? I already do that enough with college. I love the meaning and the creation, but not the… the creating? I don't know... It confuses me as much as it confuses you."
Kryoz snorted. It was always the same kind of answer, but what else can he do but verbalize playful impertinence as he responded, "So… you're choosing to do absolutely nothing?"
"Wow, rude. College is taxing, alright?" Pezzy sassed back almost immediately. It was natural between them.
"And it's exactly why I dropped out, to focus on art and make coffee on the side." Kryoz grinned. Though triumphing in looks, both knew that the 'side' hustle has become more of the main job these days. The only reason he hadn't complained much was that it still had a creative outlet within its menial procedures. A break from the constant inhalation of coffee and tea essence would be nice, though.
"Speaking of, is it really smart to use your break time to be doing that? Aren't you just doing more work?" Pezzy surmised, glancing at the now heated and frothed liquid as Kryoz took the fresh cup of espresso from under the machine's nozzle.
"Eh, closest thing to doing some art practice without my manager getting on my ass about it on my shift hours." Kryoz unconcernedly mumbled as he readied himself to pour his first layer. If you think about it, the concept was like priming a painting before actually beginning on the piece. At least, that's what he described it to Pezzy.
"As if that has stopped you. I'm surprised you haven't been fired over it still." Pezzy watched from a small distance, tilting his head but not necessarily leaning.
"Nah, he's pretty cool about it. He caught me sketching my next project on a slow day once and then started sending me these latte art videos—" Kryoz poured a thin layer and then stopped "—I think he wants me to impress him? But like, shut up for like a second…" his words slowly tapered to concentrated silence.
Pezzy can tell Kryoz's been trying this reportedly second-easiest design for a week now after doing a heart in only a few tries? Artists of all forms of passion were something else. Patience in skill honing? Discipline in constant practice? Perseverance despite failures? Pezzy could learn a thing or two from them if he took the time to make something worthwhile for it.
"Looks kinda cute," Pezzy finally commented, only once Kryoz had placed the jug aside to indicate he had finished concentrating.
"Right? Kinda fun to make." Kryoz chuckled as he placed the ceramic cup on the countertop so Pezzy could view it more appropriately from above. It was a simple tulip design, conceived with multiple hearts and just less than a rose. It wasn't anything too special, but friends can appreciate effort. "I think I can do it consistently now," Kryoz quaintly smiled.
"And I still have to pay for your latte art practice?" Pezzy cocked an eyebrow as he glanced up at the barista, having already pulled out a couple of bills from his pocket beforehand to which Kryoz immediately takes with a smirk.
"Boss's rules. Not mine," he plainly stated, giving Pezzy his change before cleaning up his now-perfect practice run.
Pezzy chuckles before taking the cup and looks at the tulip pattern. Maybe he should pick up something like this, but knowing himself, he'll get sick of the smell and cleanup.
He's a little envious that Kryoz can put up with it. Maybe it's because he seems to quickly know when he's making or doing something he enjoys or likes, and he's even quicker when he doesn't. It was just Kryoz's personal beliefs and assessments.
It's why Kryoz chose to leave college after all. It was heart first, logic second for him, somewhat opposite of Pezzy's character. In some odd way, it made him look mature and in control of the things around him. Pezzy's a little envious of that, too.
"…You could try it, it wouldn't kill you." Kryoz off-handedly said.
"You expect me to have a coffee maker and all that fancy stuff and spill it all over myself?" Pezzy half-joked before blowing on the drink and trying to maintain its intricate beauty. He wondered how he agreed to this. He didn't even like coffee or tea, to be frank, but the caffeine hit helped on the busier days.
"Damn, and I thought we could have been coworkers." Kryoz mused.
"Be the one to explain to my hall director and any of the complaints about burnt coffee, and I'll think about it." Pezzy humored the thought. He noticed the slight pause from Kryoz as he blew on the hot beverage. He shook his head, speaking up before Kryoz could take up on that offer, "Also, you have to convince my mom about it if I burn my dorm down."
"Oh hell no," Kryoz instantly changed his mind with a partial hyperbole, a jesting smile with him, "I just got back to being in good terms with her. I can't ruin that."
He must have meant the time Pezzy's mother had driven over for a weekend. Pezzy had brought her to this place where Kryoz had made her a special blend of sorts. Turns out, he had completely forgotten she had a soy allergy, much to the dismay of not divulging the ingredient list. He felt awful for weeks despite the assurance from both of them. She did joke about unfollowing him on social media, though, for what happened. Pezzy's sure she's proud Kryoz found his way all the same.
"At least you're doing something you enjoy with your free time."
Kryoz quickly looked at Pezzy, who did not dare to meet his gaze, still staring at the concentrated milky surface.
"What, and you don't? What the hell are you doing here watching me make coffee for?"
Pezzy wants to guess that the same woes have already become tiring to hear. It's only a matter of time until Kryoz gets brutally honest with him, more than he already is.
"Don't get me wrong, I like lying around and doing nothing, but… I dunno, feels too much like routine and boredom."
Kryoz would be lying if he said he hadn't been in this same conversation numerous times before. He'd hardly be telling the truth to say it hadn't become somewhat cumbersome with every reiteration. But with the wrong words or tone, something much worse could happen instead.
"…You aren't thinking of dropping out now, are you?"
A small silence, perhaps a pause a bit longer than Kryoz would have liked. But maybe he's worrying too much.
"My parents would kill me if I ever did that," Pezzy giggled as he broke the supposed one-sided tension, "and it's not like I despise college or my course. I know what I want to do after I finish, but like… what do I do before then? Or is that the only thing I'll do after everything?"
Kryoz dipped his head a little as Pezzy took a sip of the coffee. It was hot, but not scalding his gums.
"…You sure that you don't wanna try picking up music?" Kryoz proposed the idea once more, albeit more tentatively.
Pezzy hummed as he took in the taste of the coffee, familiar tolerance but no enjoyment. "Like I said. Yeah. Making it? Whole other ball game," He replied, finally looking back at Kryoz with a quaint smile.
"I'm just saying. Either you find some excitement or it finds you, but if you really want it…" He trailed off before shrugging, letting the iteration be as open as it could be in a casual sense. "Well, just know when you're ready to give something up for it or not."
Pezzy gave him a certain look only described as being both impressed and put off, "Since when did you get all philosophical?"
"When I realized I could die on my next shift and not have some cool words to be remembered by." Kryoz quipped, and doubling as a line to drop the topic, bringing both men to courteous chuckles.
As comfortability settled, Kryoz glanced at the wall cock hoisted next to the employee only door. By reading the small margin between them, he stretched from his place and spoke, "I need to go back to work in a bit. Need to help with the boss about some sound checking or whatever."
Pezzy made a noise of acknowledgement that echoed within the cup he drank from. Kryoz continued, "I would have asked you to help, but the boss's friend was really eager to volunteer for it." There was great emphasis on the word 'friend' as he said that. He could spot Pezzy's slightly cracked smile as he drank, familiar with this ongoing gossip between them.
As the cup was pulled back down, Pezzy buzzed with a look of lighthearted absurdity, "You think they're secretly a thing?"
"Doubt it," Kryoz tittered, "guy has that look on him, but he's not swinging for it." It's not that hard to tell when you're in the same room, Kryoz thought.
"Like how you looked at Smiity back then?"… Pezzy thought so too, it seemed.
Kryoz shot daggers at him. "Back then, alright? That's the key word there, idiot."
"You still like him, don't you?"
"Oh, please, I doubt he remembers me."
"You could visit more. Wouldn't kill you… right?"
"Erm, hell yeah it will," Kryoz rolled his eyes before looking at the quartz surface. He smiled a little, longing reminiscence in what lingered but had been put aside months ago. There are other things to worry about than a passing puppy crush.
You can join Pezzy in side-eyeing him, don't worry. It's encouraged, even.
"Is Grizzy still not here? He's taking forever." Kryoz swiftly passes the subject once more, pulling his head over to look at the front doors, trying to see a glimpse of Grizzy if he was anywhere near.
"Maybe he got stabbed on the way here." Pezzy jested as he followed the gaze of Kryoz. They both knew he would be late, but this is getting a little ridiculous, enough for the joke as mentioned earlier to be made. But if they really think about…
"I doubt it. You'd need a pretty big knife and even bigger balls to try that shit on Grizzy." Kryoz responded.
"He is a unit, I will say," Pezzy further commented before pulling himself away from the counter, cup still in his hand, "I'll go check real quick. I need some fresh air anyway."
He didn't see the look the other man gave him for a second as he said that, his back already turned for the most part. As he left, he only heard Kryoz's last remarks, "Don't run off with the ceramics, we just got those."
Pezzy sighed as he stepped onto the polished stone of the cafe, the warmth of the outside hitting him in a comforting embrace that could be considered whiplash by many. Additionally, the drink internally warmed him. He enjoyed the sensation despite not being the biggest fan of the taste. He might as well, it won't be long until the months get colder.
He used his free hand to plug in the other earphone he had set down earlier to hear John properly, trailing it down its thin cord to feel for a small mechanism, and pressed one of the buttons. His playlist resumed immediately, the added stimulation calming him down in a way he could barely figure out himself.
He took a few steps as he fiddled with his phone to find the messaging app and send his more than tardy roommate a message asking about his whereabouts. He gave it a few seconds after he sent it out, letting it be when no reply or read notification. He'll consider talking his ear off later.
It wasn't like he minded too much; he was barely any better than Grizzy. What he did mind was the decision to go out for fresh air and for old thoughts to find him, only spiced by the earlier interventions with his two friends. It was odd. They talked to him at separate times and said different things, but it felt like they told him the same thing. It felt like they both pitied him.
But for what exactly? He wasn't sure, yet it made him frown.
He had stopped his small walk, now holding a mug with a small ring of espresso at the bottom and a phone that only hummed the lyrics he was familiar with but didn't know by heart just yet. He didn't know what he looked like, but he was approached by a figure that looked at him uncertainly. He stood there a little awkward at his side, glancing over and deciding how to interrupt the man's unintended spiraling. Of course, he didn't know that.
Pezzy hadn't realized it was about him until his eyes just shifted over by coincidence. His eyes lifted in curiosity about why he was being looked at, but out of his experienced courtesy, he paused his music and took off his earphones.
"Uh… hi?" Pezzy started, collecting his devices into one hand. The stranger immediately lit up, friendliness in the sheepish smile he gave him as he stopped aimlessly shifting. He didn't look like he was seeking trouble, at least.
"Hey, can I ask you something?–" The man cut himself off as he lowers his head a little and tilted it to the side, "Sorry, man, am I bothering you? I probably should have started with that first." There was an apologetic look accompanying his words that Pezzy couldn't help but find pleasant in unknowing passersby who had a piece of kindness to keep and share.
"Not at all. I should be the one apologizing," Pezzy then raised his phone and earphones in emphasis as he continued, "What's up?"
"Just directions, my phone died on the way here," he clarified. A small laugh followed to lighten himself up, seemingly more embarrassed than he thought he'd be, but still carrying confidence like it was easy to converse. "Do you know where Bearoma is?" he finally inquired.
"Oh yeah, I do," Pezzy answered, entertained by the concurrence of the question and where he just came from. "I got this from there, actually," he added, tipping the used cup slightly as he mentioned it.
The man cocked his eyebrow, "Since when did cafes let customers take their mugs outside?"
"…They don't?" His tone accentuated to a skeptical one, not expecting such a response; Nevertheless, he vaguely explained his special exception, "I got a friend who works there trusting me not to run off with it."
"I'll come along then."
"…Huh?"
The declaration took Pezzy aback. The man caught on to the peculiar look and reaction given to him, only now realizing that it probably sounded a bit weird to say to someone who doesn't know him. He took the next second to backtrack and try to assure that he wasn't a creep.
"Sorry, that sounded weird," he quickly repented with a chuckle, sincere yet casual, "I ain't going to do anything like that. No Dahmer shit. I promise."
It's not like Pezzy went far, not enough to turn a corner. He hadn't expected to be accompanying anyone other than Grizzy to the cafe today. Looking around, it wasn't busy, and those who were around were busy with their own errands and affairs, and it'd be weird to ask him to ask anyone else.
If what he claimed was true, it would just be weirder if he told him no. He'd have to go to the cafe no matter what, and the guy would have to untactfully follow behind him. Even worse, he'd have to then be awkwardly in the same room as him.
Pezzy scanned over at the man and realized something he hadn't noticed before,
"You're performing there?"
The other stopped and squinted, "…How'd you– Oh." His eyes widened while he nervously grinned, finally clocking the fact he was holding the very thing that gave it away. "Yeah, yeah, I am."
Pezzy glanced down at what the ardent man held in one hand, closed into a fist to take it by its handle. It was a wooden guitar case, colored beige. It was considerably well-loved, if not for the scratches it sustained, then the peeled and worn-out stickers plastered on it. He couldn't see the whole casing, but anyone could tell the container was older than the one holding it.
"So… am I good or…?"
Pezzy looked up at the man once more, still skeptical, but his better judgment weighed in on being a good person. He supposed that if he got into any trouble, someone would see before it became dangerous. And so far, while zealous and a little eccentric, the guy had courtesy and a friendly demeanor. Almost like a dog.
With nothing pulled so far, Pezzy took his chances and nodded with his head with a quiet sigh. It was hard to think he'd do anything within a less-than-a-minute walk. With that in mind, He led forward with only a small motion to follow, and the eager musician swiftly obliged.
"And you're sure that a guitar's inside and not room for a body conveniently shaped like mine?" Pezzy asked, looking back at the other and the decorated case. If Pezzy wanted, he could fit one in without trying or much struggle. Don't ask him how he'd know.
Quicker than anticipated, the man behind him responded in a particular way, "My mom would whoop my ass before I do anything like that with my dad's guitar."
"Oh yeah?" Pezzy didn't mean much by his comment, but he, of all people, should have known it would start a snippet. Musicians love telling stories. They especially love the ones about how they came to be.
"It's my dad's before it became mine. He used to go around the states like crazy and meet all sorts of people, usually people who were around the music biz'. That's how he met my mom, too," he briefed, his eyes shifting up then down at the guitar case, pulling it up slightly for Pezzy to see.
The exterior was riddled with images and stylized letters, a sticker bombing, but from time and wonderous one-time experiences. There were stickers of cities miles and kilometers away, band names neither could recognize, some for postcards to never be sent, and a few half-hazardly peeled or scratched over. It was as much of a relic as it was a keepsake.
"I think the stickers are sick. I don't even know half of what's on it, but it's sick," he awed, a childish prominence as he did. You can tell he loves his dad and his past endeavors, trudging the same guitar around and telling offhanded stories to people he has only just met on the side of the road.
"I don't know if I'd do the same. I've seen some nicely done ones, but, heh, knowing me? It's going to look like vomit," he rambled on.
"Travelling around like he did would be cool, though. Maybe I'll pass out on a few alleyways as well."
"…Sounds fun," Pezzy didn't mean to opine like that, but he got scared that his lack of input made him seem indifferent or even aloof, even when he wasn't directly looking at him.
Yet, from the corner of his eye, there's a subtly delighted smile. "The travelling or the passing out?" the stranger joked, gratified that Pezzy was listening to him from the side.
'What a character,' Pezzy thought.
"Both? I think it's nice you got something you like doing now and know you'll like to do in the future, like traveling, or passing our, or making music… make life worthwhile as it goes."
The other pondered, his previously contented smile now dropped into a look of concern. Was it bad for him to feel envious yet charmed?
"…You alright, man?"
He guessed it was.
"I may be… You know, misinterpreting? But you looked kind of sad or disappointed at the end there," the empathic tone made Pezzy sink. He should seriously reconsider what he says more often, especially when it's someone he's never known before. He has nothing to be pitied about, it's just how he is. And that's inexcusable.
"Did I make it sound like that…?" Pezzy breathily laughed, brushing off his previous tone as accidental. "Sorry, it's my bad, I've just been sounding like that lately," Pezzy faintly smiled as they found themselves close to the designated establishment.
Before he could say anything else, a repeated remark was asked of him first,
"So you're not alright?"
Pezzy looked up at the source, not expecting sorrowful yet compassionate eyes. It bewildered him that a person he didn't know would be so empathetic right off the bat, just by the tone and choice of words. It made Pezzy panic a little about how to respond.
The man must have noticed as he quickly added, "Ah, I was just wondering, is all." He raised a hand and waved off the previous notion as a silent apology joined to his reassurance, "You don't need to answer."
Pezzy looked over at him again, relaxing from his unintended self-tension, as he nodded and finally replied, "…No, yeah, I'm alright."
A nod was given back, followed by a shallow awkwardness that was quickly rectified by the unassuming musician. "I'll be heading in now, gig to do and all…" he grinned lightly. "You got something else to do before you need to give back business property?"
Pezzy stared a bit confused until he realized he meant the now-cold ceramic he's been practically touring with. "Yeah, I'm uh… waiting for a friend," he chortled as he then shyly bid him something else, giving something back nonphysical, "Good luck on the performance. I… might not have time to watch."
A momentary disappointed look flashed for a second before being replaced by a thankful one, "Then, if it means anything, thanks for your help and the talk."
There was a kind smile again, something intrinsic that Pezzy guessed at this point.
"I hope I made it a bit worthwhile for you, even just for a moment, yeah?" he said, a much too wistful hope to be just naive. And yet it made Pezzy pause for how many times now, since he started talking to the supposed musician. He watched the mysterious individual disappear, and soon enough, he was left on his own again.
He stood idly, unsure if what had happened was in any way apodeictic or even realistic, for that matter.
'Made it a bit worthwhile?' Pezzy silently ingeminated those words to himself. Did he take that part in his little ramble to heart? He glanced at the glass doors to see the person he had just led over talk to Kryoz.
A few exchanges were made, and Kryoz motioned to the man to a door behind the counter. The peculiar man then seemingly tells him something before looking back to suddenly meet eyes with Pezzy, whose eyes widen for a moment before he waved at both of them.
Kryoz looked over at him, an impartial look, if not for the raised eyebrow. It was a light-hearted but incredulous look. Pezzy couldn't help but wave his hand at him, indicating to pay the plausible details no mind. He caught Kryoz rolling his eyes, and the other man seemed to grin at the unarticulated interaction before they went back to talking.
At best, it was a meandering comment. At worst… well, hopefully it was nothing bad. If he was truly anything like he was earlier, there was no use in lamenting on something like that. All he did was seem sincere about a problem that isn't there.
It was odd, but not alarming. Maybe the world was just in its whims and letting such things happen due to specific circumstances and conditions.
After a minute of standing offhandedly with his thoughts and leaving the two off to their own, he felt the phone in his hand vibrate, and he looked down to see the caller ID. He pressed the green button as soon as he read it.
"You're late," Pezzy stated, bringing the phone up to his ear.
"I told you I was going to be late!" A slight static accompanied the voice.
"Yeah, but like… you're late being late," He replied, looking over to the transparent doors again to see the stranger gone off somewhere, presumably at the back, and Kryoz holding the employee's door open as he talked to someone from the other side. "John's already going back to work."
"My fault, O-G," the voice rang as he explained himself, "I really didn't think the production stuff was going to take so long." Pezzy could hear the slight panting through the phone and some rustling in the back.
Pezzy both joked and pointed out as he glanced down at the white and empty coffee cup in his other hand, "And yet here you not are." It was grammatically wrong, but he was right. He could hear the groan from his teasing, but Pezzy figured he deserved it.
"Oh, come on, man…" his roommate from the other side pleaded, to which Pezzy laughed a little as he shook his head, despite not being visible for Grizzy to witness.
He averted his gaze as he saw Kryoz, who returned to the front register, wave over and then motioned him to come over. Pezzy pointed at his phone and mouthed the name "Grizzy" to him, which didn't discourage Kryoz and instead made a harsher gesture to come over anyway.
Pezzy exhaled exasperatedly to himself as he pushed the transparent but solid entrance as Grizzy continued to talk, "I'm literally two blocks away right now, calm down–"
Kryoz immediately did the opposite, "Just now you're going down the block? Not even down the block— We've been waiting for over an hour!" he exclaimed. Pezzy wasn't sure how Kryoz was able to hear that, but perhaps Grizzy's yelling didn't need to be put on speaker to be heard. Thankfully, the front wasn't around any tables; the actual seating was a bit further down. However, Pezzy bobbed his hand to ask Kryoz to be quieter.
"Hey, hey, let it slide this one time, alright?" Grizzy implored loudly, "I almost didn't come over because the rain is going to get bad any fucking moment now!"
"There's no rain," Pezzy denounced, but then stopped as he was not really sure of his own statement, "Is there?'
"Uhm, yeah, there is? It hasn't reached you guys there yet, but it was pouring at the campus," Grizzy said, supercilious as he was apparently running down the sides of the street. "Do you not check your weather notifications every once in a while?"
"I didn't know that time of the year would be that soon," Pezzy admitted, a little laugh following after, "But it shouldn't be that bad."
"Oh, I think you're going to regret saying that," Kryoz mumbled as he turned back to his previous duties, taking the cafe's cup from Pezzy's hand without much of a warning. "That guy you helped bring in was actually an hour early, probably why he was eager to come over a bit instead of getting caught in the rain."
At the mention of the man earlier, such an antic made him more odd. Wouldn't it be fine to simply bring an umbrella instead of having the hassle of coming over early? Or should he not read into people he barely knows when he didn't even realize it would storm today?
"—When are you heading off to work?" Grizzy's voice piped through Pezzy's electronic device again. Well, he's been talking for a few seconds about something, and Pezzy only clocked in what he was saying in the end.
"Sorry, what was it?" Pezzy requested.
"I'm asking when you're going off to your job which is like… a bus ride away," Grizzy repeated as he shuffled around a bit from what Pezzy can hear, "I only got one umbrella on me and I got my own shit to get back to later. Will you or will you not be alright?"
"Work? Uh… well, I guess I'll be gone in half an hour or something," Pezzy estimated as he glanced at the little digital clock while still on call, "You were really late after all."
"You just won't let that go, huh?" He could see Grizzy squinting at him through his phone.
"But I'll be fine, yeah." Pezzy assured, appreciative that Grizzy was concerned despite the shortcomings he teased him for, "I should get there before it gets super bad."
"Super bad? You might as well go now," Kryoz chuckled, finding the assumption quaint. He glanced at Pezzy as he wiped down the now-washed cup, "You should worry more about what happens after work."
"It'll pass," Pezzy said.
"So you can get back on your own?" Grizzy asked, hearing over the last part.
"Mhm." Pezzy hummed in reply.
"Alright, don't drown."
Pezzy snickered at the thought, "I'll think about it."
He gravely underestimated, or perhaps it's overestimated? It didn't matter when he generally misjudged the storm's pattern today. He gloated to himself at first when he got to work with no dark clouds following after him, but midway into his shift, the sky was full of them. He figured they'd be gone sooner or later, but seeing that he's only an hour away from being done, he wasn't sure anymore.
It wouldn't be the worst thing; it's not the first time he's had to run through some droplets. The issue was that the closest bus is about a four- to six-minute walk, which is realistically not far at all. He just doubted he'd reach it without turning into a soaking wet mess by then, with no umbrella and not many buildings having an awning or ceiling. Not to mention, there were definitely a few streets to cross in the open.
He watched the outside continue to pour as he tried to think of what to do. He should have brought his backpack today. He hated the extra weight that makes his back hurt, but he'd be atleast be prepared for shit like this with a coat or small umbrella. But what if he slips while travelling and breaks his skull open when he falls forward? He'd have to think about how to get to a hospital after that. Actually, if he brought a backpack, then he could just have brought a coat or the umbrella itself. Which one would even solve his issue right now? What was the issue again?—
"Oh my God, dude," Pezzy's tireless overthinking is interrupted by a youngish voice and a dramatic fall on the front registry desk he was currently manning. He turned to the fallen who feigned exhaustion, but was understandably tired, "You've got to help me."
"What is it, Yumi?" Pezzy inquired, watching the guy pull himself up to face him.
He wore a clear nametag. Despite it labeling him as 'Blake', he insisted on being called 'Yumi' instead, as he wanted to practice hearing that name when he "makes it real big in the music scene." Only Pezzy fully respected it in their workplace, even if they had thought of it as cringeworthy at first.
Their bosses—yes, plural but just not on paper—and essentially the only other people working here, were a bit of a different story. One of them owned the place and was barely ever seen out front. The other was more like an employee who handled the actual management. The latter only calls him by his real name when he's teasing or bossing him to do something, much to Yumi's complaint. Pezzy's not sure why Yumi stopped reacting the same way with the owner, though.
"Help me put these CDs up, please…" Yumi begged, obnoxiously stretching the last word.
Pezzy looked over at the steel cart near his desk, a sort of all-around return bin they use throughout the day when customers want to return what they had rented, been refunded for, or left out randomly in an entirely different section that they find later. They usually take turns throughout the day and the week, but Yumi still struggles to remember where things went sometimes.
"Hell no, that's your job today." Pezzy retorted, putting his chin on his palm, propped up on the desk, as he refused to move away from his position. He already put his half earlier.
"You're so not cool," Yumi squinted but dropped it, knowing Pezzy would prefer doing nothing for the last hour of work. "Can you at least tell me where they go so I can finish this up before we close?"
"Back left of the room, it's on the R and B section— Shouldn't you know this?" Pezzy cut himself off as he realized this should be something Yumi must have learned by now.
"They're super old, dude, almost all the labels are peeling off like grandma skin," Yumi stated as he picked up from the bin and lightly glared at the scratched label, "I'm only asking you because you're super old too."
"What the hell?" Pezzy nearly scoffed. Yumi was just out of high school and refused to go to college to work on his aspirations, but he guessed that seeing Pezzy's old spirit was enough for him to poke fun at.
"Why didn't you ask Evan or something? He's even older than me." Pezzy continued, lightly glaring at the other.
Yumi paid no mind to the stare as he replied, "He's busy with inventory checking, and I don't want him to think I'm uncool."
Pezzy cocked an eyebrow at that, "since when did you care about other people's opinions?"
"When I found out my boss was cool."
"Am I not cool enough for you?"
Yumi sighed as he shook his head, "See, saying shit like that makes you not sound cool, makes you sound old."
Pezzy grumbled a little, "Whatever, go do your job."
Even if what Yumi said was a little true, he didn't need to take it to heart.
He looked back at the rainy atmosphere outside and thought to himself about what to do next if the rain doesn't leave by then. Perhaps he was just hoping it'd be gone by then. It wasn't like he could control the weather. But if he could with his other limited options… admittedly, he wasn't sure if he would. Strange as it is.
Inadvertently, he found himself zoning out to other things instead, and by the end of it, he was standing under the glass awning of the shop and bidding Yumi goodbye, who loudly yelled it out to him as he ran to his mom's car while it rained. If she was like his own mom, she'd be yelling at him to bring a coat next time. But like Pezzy, Yumi hasn't learnt shit.
"You sure you'll be alright?" A tired but composed voice inquired beside him.
Pezzy glanced over to see his acting manager and peer give him a concerned smile. He was older and wiser than Pezzy in a decade's width, yet he still somehow looked younger than on paper. He probably could change his voice about it, too.
When Pezzy didn't respond, the older man nodded his head to the still-open lights of the store. "I would have offered for you to stay if you needed, but I have some important errands to run through today. I apologize for that."
Pezzy followed his gaze to the grey hues once more and hummed to himself about this honestly mundane phenomenon that comforted him despite its nuisances. "It's alright," he mumbled, pulling one of his earphones out of his ear.
He then turned his head up to the glass ceiling above them that thankfully ran through the small chain of stores, "You were probably betting on the rain lifting. You and the other kid."
"I'll still be able to clock in tomorrow if you're so worried about me, Mr. Calibre," Pezzy snided lightheartedly, earning himself an odd but amused look from his partial employer.
"Pfft— Don't call me that outside of work, it's just Lui," the boss— Err… Lui laughed as he shook his head.
"But it sounds weird like that," Pezzy stated, with a soft grin on his face, "Next thing you know, I'm gonna start asking people to call me Pezzy at work." He was clearly referencing Yumi's persistent declaration of it at work, even to some customers, up until Lui talked some sense into him.
"Better not, the kid's still got too many things to learn in basic retail etiquette." Lui sighed as he circled his keys around his pointer finger before catching them with his palm. "I'll do my last rounds. Just be safe."
Pezzy gave a simple nod at that, watching Lui go back to the store before he closed it for the day. He was truly mysterious despite his approachable demeanor. Friendly, but certainly not stupid. Maybe it's the reason why the actual owner asks him to work up front rather than himself. Pezzy couldn't blame him; it was admirable. He just wondered why he's been helping the store for so long, because he never cared for music in the same way the rest of them do.
As he thought to himself, he walked down the side of the small plaza, only sticking to where the glass ceiling covered him. It would have been a leisure if it weren't for the growing anxiety bubbling within him as he stared at the weather app details, eyeing the little icons of stormy clouds and trying to find a sunny one anytime soon. He wasn't sure why he was really checking; he already knew he wouldn't be able to handle staying for more than an hour. He'd be doing nothing. He only likes to do nothing when he's in his room without the internal worries.
Even if he was forced to wait here— and at this rate, he could be— half the niche shops are closed due to the weather, and sitting in one for too long would make him and possibly others uncomfortable. He already knew he couldn't go back to his workplace, and calling Grizzy or Kryoz would be cumbersome.
Running through it was always the most reckless option, but he'd probably get a cold. Or as he thought before, slip and die. And even if he didn't, he'd be drenched by the time he gets to the bus stop. He could already imagine the driver's disgusted look at the sigh of him the moment those condensed doors open. His anxiety couldn't possibly take that… but sucking it up for it would only be the real solution.
He grimaced as the protection above him ended, it was only able to bring Pezzy to the start of the first intersection on his usual path. From where he stood, the closest cover was barely visible in the misty atmosphere. It was kind of stupid how far it was, but that's possibly because it's adding to his pile of gutless problems.
He stared at the crossing lights, the bright green being the most discernible in the near monochromatic landscape. Chromatic yet intense compared to its other subjects. Normally, one would cross at the sight. Pezzy didn't.
He didn't know why he was hesitating. It wasn't like there were many vehicles to make him think twice. It just felt daunting at the moment. Paralyzingly so.
It blinked at him as a forewarning, idly taunting until it became a flash of static red. Once the technical tinge altered, a breath was exhaled slowly. He hadn't even noticed he was holding it in.
Stilted shoulders relaxed, a slow breath bringing him back to a steady resuscitation. He ran a thumb over the black screen of his phone, biting his inner bottom lip with unprecedented self-reproach. He was just lost in his mind. Yet, even he could admit this was excessive. How could one reason with that, though?
He sighed to himself, finger and thumb rubbing between the loose earphone's cord as invisible splashes of water occasionally touched his shoes. His eyes gazed down at the wet road, the edge sprouting weeds and leaflets from where he stood. He then tilted his head up to watch the sky cry, but from the corner of his eyes, he found a black shade hovering closer to him than expected.
'Since when did…' Pezzy squinted as he looked over at what was shadowing him, averting his eyes over until another new thing appeared.
"Hey—"
"Holy fuck!"
Pezzy stepped back out of instinct. His eyes were wide in surprise, nearly losing his balance. What stood next to him for who knows how long was a familiar face he did not expect to see twice today.
"Woah, woah, you good?" the voice questioned. Pezzy could barely hear it as a truck drove past the intersection.
"Am I good?-" Pezzy sputtered, trying to get back his bearings, "What the fuck are you doing here?"
"Chill man, like I said before, I ain't doing any of that Dahmer shit— Word to my mother," the peculiar man promised. He stepped back a bit to try making himself look less threatening, or at least someone who wouldn't want trouble so easily.
As Pezzy observed, the man still wore the same clothes as he had first seen him. Besides the muddier shoes, only the props he held were different. He held an umbrella in one hand. It had a deep navy blue cover. It was nearly dark enough to be black if you looked from under it. Around his torso was a black guitar silhouette with lashes that went down from his shoulders to the sides of his abdomen.
There was a nervous laugh as he spoke, "I just so happen to be in the area, is all."
Pezzy blinked a few times, the same words striking him with the same oddness, yet the familiarity of being in an awkward position comforted him. While he wasn't scarily alarmed anymore, he stood his guard.
"Okay, but you still haven't answered my question," Pezzy pointed out as he recuperated from the initial scare.
"Off to a gig, of course," the musician answered, almost announcing it like it was his pride. And really, it sort of was.
"Another one?" Pezzy asked, curious about the idea of doing so much in a day.
"A man's got to eat," He chuckled as he readjusted the guitar strap around his shoulder. Even from where Pezzy was, it was surely a different guitar, or at least the casing was. It was more of a guitar bag.
"How about you then? Are you just hanging around here or something?" He returned his own ponderings. "I noticed you on my way to my venue and just saw you kind of stare at the light… thought you were on something. I guess I got a bit worried for you?" his head canted to the side as he explained further.
Pezzy couldn't help but snort, "Worried for me? You don't even know me."
"Well, yeah, I don't, but it'd be really awkward if you were like about to have a stroke or something crazy like that," the stranger said. His eyes were so emotive in how he talked about 'what ifs', it was kind of entertaining. "Like, imagine that, and I just so happen to have walked away while almost no one else is around."
"You have quite the imagination," Pezzy commented, slightly entertained.
The other man laughed again, the smile on his face then slowly dropping as he looked down. "But it's also because I uh… I thought…" he trailed off, holding himself from continuing as he glanced at the confused Pezzy once again. He then shook his head, "Sorry, never mind."
Before Pezzy could even wonder what he meant to say to him, the stranger piped up again, looking at the car-scarce street, "You also haven't answered me, by the way."
"Me?" Pezzy mumbled. He raised an eyebrow before he elevated both of them in realization. "Oh, um… well, hanging around here against my will, I guess?"
"What?" The man looked back at him, befuddled by such an incongruous response.
"It's more like I'm kind of… stranded? If that makes sense?" Pezzy shrugged as he averted his eyes to the same street as before. "I know where I want to go, but I kind of… can't right now."
It took the other a few seconds to realize what he meant. His eyes lifted in mellow enlivement, "Didn't know the rainy season was pulling up today?" he teased.
"Perhaps," Pezzy sassed subtly. He joined him on the rain-watching to halt himself from eye-rolling because yeah, he didn't know, but he didn't need to make fun of him. However, he could see the comedy in it.
The two watched and listened to the pitter-patter of the rain for a few seconds, both seemingly entranced by the ordinary anomaly of the month. A hum can be heard from the man. There was a slight tune that Pezzy picked up; he wasn't sure if it was a song he'd heard, but he liked it. He also seemed to enjoy the peculiar man's company, despite it all.
The light had become green again. It pulled the buried anxiety over Pezzy again, and while he was a little ashamed that he didn't cross, it was a different wonder now. This time, however, he wondered why the supposed busy guitarist hadn't moved from his place. Was he like him, or was this something else in mind?
"You can take this one," the man inexplicably offered.
Pezzy turned his head over at him, "Take?" he asked, uncertain of what that meant.
The man met his gaze and kept that grinning smile with bright eyes, as if it was so obvious that it was comical or exciting. Pezzy further stared at him quizzically. Had he misheard him?
The held umbrella was then offhandedly shoved forward towards Pezzy's direction, catching him by surprise. Pezzy gawked at it and then at him.
"Wha-"
"Take it," he disrupted him, jiggling the handle when it was still open. "You need it much more than me, anyway," he reasoned.
"I don't… You don't even know me," He repeated the same thing from before.
"Who cares! Not like you'll be the one in trouble," the guy told him, implicating a few things himself.
Pezzy scrutinized the offering while he raised his hand, yet he hesitated to graze even a finger on it. Of course, he would be when the proposal was so startling and unusual, especially from a startling and unusual individual. Was it even safe to accept this type of kindness?
The man examined him for a while, seeing the reluctance holding back the acceptance of his oblation, but even his patience had its limits. He took the wavering hand with his own and forced the handgrip into it.
"Jeez, just take it, man," he exasperated and maintained his lighthearted expression.
Pezzy was kept in shock while he held the umbrella. As the man looked unbothered by it, he was still grasping at what had just happened. Was it seriously acceptable for him to be given this in such a bewildering chain of events no one could ever possibly predict?
As he stood dumbfounded, the other started to take the straps of his guitar off him. Additionally, from the corner of Pezzy's eye, the light across from them began to flash again, signaling itself to any passerby and drivers.
He quickly noticed what the other was preparing for and hastily inquired, "What about you? What are you going to do?"
The smile that was presented to him upon being questioned was benign yet subtly rambunctious as he gave him a vague reply, "Get to my gig before my bandmates kill me."
The guitarist then abruptly raised the guitar bag above his head. He took a few moments to adjust it to a more comfortable position whilst still covering his figure… somewhat. It was realistically not going to do a lot with the intensity and blow of the storm, but his face looked enthusiastic rather than discouraged by that fact.
"My gig isn't that far from here, I can run it," He chuffed.
"You're joking…" Pezzy mumbled, perplexed by the wild but pleased attitude the stranger gave off with his impractical plan.
"I can take it," He declared as the light finally changed to a daring green once again. He turned to Pezzy and winked, "Just watch me."
"Wait–"
The hurried musician was barely able to make more than one foot onto the white paint before one of his arms raised on his head was pulled back. Why were his ventures being delayed by a nervous and puzzled college student?
"Hey!– I'm going to be late!" he asserted as he turned to the one who impeded him.
Pezzy had half the mind to call him out on being late, yet still found the time to talk to him and offer him something he couldn't possibly get from any other onlooker. And honestly, he gave him a piece of it.
"J-Just tell me your name first," Pezzy stammered in his demand, but held no force in his tone, "so I can at least be comfortable in taking it."
The musician gave him an odd look for once, taken aback by the interest of his moniker. He thought about it for a few seconds. There was a disposition in his eyes, as if he was going to tell it to some dangerous fae. Pezzy started to feel his stomach drop, regret filling the space as he started second-guessing if asking for his name was too uncomfortable.
But suddenly, the man formed his trademark grin as he gave in to his understandable demand, "Droid."
"Droid?"
'Droid' nodded his head as he pulled his arm away from Pezzy's loosened grasp and stepped onto the wet crosswalk.
"… That sounds stupid," Pezzy commented flippantly as he watched the man cross a few steps with the guitar above his head.
He then watched him turn back to him, hearing his comment. Pezzy didn't mean to have an attitude with it, but there was a beaming amusement on the new acquaintance's face as he walked back.
"I know, right?" he laughed, "But that's what everyone else calls me!". He pivoted on his feet once more as he ran to the other side, beating the winking light as it turned red.
Droid then gave him a look of misplaced superiority as he yelled out to him one last time, "Told you! I got this shit!"
Pezzy had barely registered what had just happened as the running guitarist continued his way to the other side and disappeared into the fog of city architecture. For all he knew now, he was holding an umbrella that he didn't have a minute ago, and a name to a face that he could only remember oddities and mysterious ends to.
He clutch the hook-like part of the umbrella's handle, the opened end pointed at the floor as Pezzy made sure he was in reality and not imagining events or people that never existed. How could anyone believe anything like that? If he told Grizzy, he'd say he would have freaked out about it.
…
…Hm.
He pulled his phone out from his pants that he shoved in earlier during the unusual situation and didn't take long until he found the targeted contact. He brought the phone up to his ear and counted the two sound-oscillating rings that played until he finally heard it being answered.
"I was guessing you'd be calling me soon," Grizzy stated, his toothy grin visible through the phone even when video chat wasn't on. Pezzy didn't feel like making a sarcastic response to wipe it off him today as he carefully listened to the underlying concern intrinsic to Grizzy's person, "You doing alright, man?"
"…Yeah," Pezzy said, pushing the earphone that hung at the side of his face the whole time back into his ear, "I'm alright, here."
"Really? Because it sounds like you're calling me for help," Grizzy tittered. Pezzy could hear noises and voices other than Grizzy, and he guessed right that Grizzy would still be busy with more projects to handle back at the campus. Though, he didn't mind it. If he did, he would have snapped back by now. He had a different thing to say this time around.
"If you want me to get you a–"
"I'm actually going to walk today, I think."
Grizzy was shocked by this new set of words. Pezzy never liked walking for long. The only time he could even recall Pezzy walking for over thirty minutes was a log and late drinking night of some college bullshit where they couldn't even feel the pain in their legs on their way back from the bar… or remember it much for that matter. He concluded two things: Pezzy was horribly drunk—after work, of all things—or it was a skinwalker who figured out how to use a phone.
"Walk it? You sure?" Grizzy asked, skeptical of the decision, "That's new for you."
"You make it sound like that's a bad thing," Pezzy chortled softly.
He raised the umbrella from the floor and let it lean on his shoulder. He gazed over the blaring red person that stood still, its hue seemingly cooled to what he first saw it. A van passed between the two of them as Grizzy considered what he could say next.
"Just update me on your way back, yeah?"
Pezzy thrummed, watching the scarlet sign flash over repeatedly, inviting him rather than intimidating him to act. He shifted in place for a bit, and he nodded his head. It would go unnoticed, but that's okay.
"I will," Pezzy assured, "Least I could do, right?"