As The World Falls Down

That's all you got to say?!

They slashed through the night unhurriedly, cool wind blown their hairs and whipped through their jackets, kissed their smiling face softly. Riding side by side, chatting and chuckling across the bikes; Sander humming random pieces of lyrics or notes almost unconsciously, moving from one song to others as though he was creating his own music. There was no beginning and there was no end to their conversation, it just flow as natural as air or water, the way they always had. They finally skidded to a stop across a square, white building with a metal door in the middle.

"Just leave the bike here," Sander said, throwing his bike by the bushes.

Robbe followed his lead. "Where are we, Sander?"

"Not an empty house." Sander grinned.

They started to cross the street. "So, are we upgrading or downgrading in term of rulebreaking now?"

Sander laughed, "It'll be fine."

Like his definition of fine is ever fit the meaning of the word in dictionary.

He stopped suddenly and unzipped his shoulder bag. He took out two white mask and gave one to him. Robbe raised his eyebrow in question but Sander just grinned. He took it and wore the half-face mask, covering his nose and mouth. At least I know we are not robbing someone.

Sander was rummagging inside his bag, he took out a black baseball cap and offered it to him.

"What's for?"

"There might be security cameras at the front, should be deactivated by now, but better be safe than sorry." He said it in a nonchalant way in contrast with the weight of the sentence.

"Cmmon Sander, what the fuck are we doing?"

"Nothing dangerous."

"Your definition of the word is off!" Robbe laughed half-exasperately, because he couldn't help but loved him more than ever. He was also curious and he had always trusted him.

Sander laughed again, "It'll be fine. I wouldn't worry if it's just me." He put on his jacket's hood.

Robbe put on the cap and they crossed the street, alighted by the streetlamps. There was no one around, the area in front of the building was small parking lot which was currently empty. They approached the metal door. Breaking and entering, that's what we are doing.

"I join a street-art club some weeks ago." Sander said conversationally.

Very generous of you to inform at the last second, mister.

He tapped his hand on the door, three quick ones, stop, two slow taps, two more quicks. There was a click, and the metal door started to roll up. It stopped a quarter of its height and he gestured for him to follow before ducking through the space. Sander tilted his head in greeting to the boy who was guarding the door.

"Come." He gestured ahead of him.

Robbe rolled his eyes, but he followed him through what apperead to be some kind of parking lot, taking off the cap. The place was a silent beehive. There were kids miling around in small groups, talking quietly, others were standing on folded step ladders next to a truck, spray paint cans in hand. Let's add vandalism to the list. They went deeper, passing more garbage trucks in orange colours, or at least they were before being spray-painted with all sort of colours in words and pictures over the sides. The sound of shaking cans, the smell of chemicals and spirit of art, the thrill of creation tied up with rulebreaking, the sense of togetherness of it filled the air. Robbe found himself quickly flushed by the same excitement.

"Hey!" A pretty dark-hair girl walked up to them. Her coloring was all dark, from her shoulder-length hair, make up, her shirt, and skirt to her black boots.