Boys of the Dark | ✓ (2015)

12. The Boy with the Orgasmic Pizza

"Are you sure this is such a good idea?" asked Melon Head.

"What?" Annoyed, Delilah didn't even glance over her shoulder to the ball cap wearing dork.

Melon Head removed the joint from his lips and breathed a cloud into Delilah's face.

She began coughing, waving her hand as he casually explained, "I mean, last time we went on a walk—we almost got killed by your ex fiancée who you ripped from the ball sack up with your own two hands, not to mention you reversed time and passed the fuck out."

"Well, HB said to try this amazing thing called 'pizza'," she said with air quotes. "She told me to just walk down this street and we should see this little store that apparently offers the best lunch in all of the universes."

Melon Head raised his brow. "Is it healthy?"

"I...I don't think so."

"Then I'm in," he agreed. He crushed the joint in his hand and dropped it down the sewer, staring a little longer at the metal circle before shivering and walked over it.

"Of course. You eat like those big, fat animals."

"Your mom?"

"You're annoying as shit, you know that?"

He grinned back at her, hitting his forehead with hers before walking ahead, singing to a little tune.

Suddenly, a familiar sound came from the speakers outside. Her heart picked up. Delilah quickened her pace, taking a left turn.

"Where are you going?" Melon Head asked.

She walked faster. She chased the tail of music, it teasing her instincts around. "I know that sound..." she distantly said.

A crowd formed outside the coffee shop across the street and she moved across, ignoring the car honks and swerve of tires. She shouldered her way through, her walk almost ghostlike as the familiar sound hooked her attention.

She recognized that sound. It was the sound of the cars rushing by the highway; the static ssshhhh noise channeling from the front of the shop.

A different sound mixed into the air as the familiarity of it all tugged at her curiosity.

Then realization trickled down her mind and clicked into place.

It was the sound of the coffee grinding at the café she and Ryland visited. The squeak of what sounded like a swing rocking from the park blended into the song, creating this ghostly tune that sent the hairs on her arms standing.

The tap tap of Delilah's pen hitting the desk in detention dropped into the mix, setting that tempo. She knew that sound. She heard it almost every day. There was the echo of her cliff screams and Ryland's.

There was the sound of rain, it producing a hush noise throughout the song.

What was going on?

Then her back stiffened.

A voice began to sing.

With one part of the headphone on, Ryland controlled his keyboard-DJ-controller, pumping a good beat through the air. His mouth wasn't moving.

"Delilah..." Melon Head stopped behind her. "Isn't that your voice?"

But she kept walking, towards the stage.

She watched Ryland get lost in his tunes, making art with his fingers and music in his soul as he orchestrated a symphony of sounds. Suddenly, he opened his mouth, bringing it close to the microphone. And he began to sing.