Sisi / Season 1

8⁒

waste away - blackbear

I don't dream at night. I dream all day. The four walls of my apartment seem to absorb my thoughts, because they grow dark. I'm exaggerating, it's the sun and the clouds out the window. I play music. Or maybe the music plays me, I don't know. I open my laptop. My fingers become dirty crooks in an alleyway, beating up the poor innocent keys to death.

It's been a long time since I transcribed my mind down.

To be truthful, I haven't seen Jacob in a while. Hence, my lack of... inspiration. But I'm not one to go look for people. So, I put up with the suffocation. I've also sat down to watch too many k-dramas.

I pull my earlobe, bored. Smoke hisses out the toaster when I look at it.

I call Étienne, "Étienne! Your toast."

He lunges out the bathroom, not yet dry from his godlessly early morning shower.

"Merde!" he swears and hits the toast out of torture zone.

It's unsalvageable. So is the time of morning.

"Why don't you make pancakes?" because that's what I want.

"I have practice," he sighs.

He turns to the fruit bowl and grabs a spotty banana. He goes back to finish dressing or whatever men do in the bathroom. The moment he comes back in the open, I point at his head.

"I bet your coach and teammates all laugh at you in the locker room," I say to him. He looks at me weird like I said something weird. "Go get a haircut."

It's an awkward long. It's not sexy Harry Styles style. It's just unruly and thick.

He rolls his eyes, which I thought would blind him.

"Alright, alright."

"Also, take out the garbage."

"You might want to wear something different, if I put you on the curb. They might mistake you for recycling."

Immediately, I throw a pillow at him, yet missed to my misfortune.

"Watch yourself, huh. I'll throw your stuff outside and burn it. I'm crazy."

He dismisses my threat by laughing. He then grabs his old stink-up gym bag and pushes his feet in his shoes. I find a pair of sunglasses and tie my hair. We walk out the door together.

It' somewhat sunny. It's somewhat quiet. I stuff my crippled hands in my bomber jacket pockets.

"I'm glad school's over," I say, tasting the ray of sunshine on my lips.

"Yeah," he sighs.

"It's a perfect day to eat sushi," I say.

"I don't know how you can eat that stuff."

"Then you'll never know true happiness," I tell him.

I take his basketball from him and dribble on the sidewalk.

"Watch this," I pass it under my legs.

Étienne only knows how to laugh, "Fail."

"You don't know a pro athlete when you see one," I throw back his ball at him.

Once we reach the court, I notice that a bunch of female predators have already installed themselves on the bleachers. I sit near the edge to avoid them. They seem to be auditioning for Basketball Wives TV show by painting nails and chatting on phones. The men on the court are topless and run in bright coloured sneakers. All I see are running built abs machines. The bumpy in and out factor of their bodies are drool worthy, but I swallow my saliva and behave like a good girl should.