Lonely Neighbor [H.S.]

xxxiv. You can't sing like him.

"I don't know! Not yet. Shut up. I think so.. Listen, I'm busy right now. Can we talk later? I'm with a... uhm...friend right now."

Ouch.

I watched as Harry slid his phone back in his backpocket and turned around to face me. He grinned and clasped his hand together.

"Sooooo, w-what kind of cake are we making?" He asked, curiously looking at the labels of each ingredient we bought from the supermarket in front of us.

"I was thinking of a rainbow cake. I read the recipe a few weeks ago online. It looks cute and cool. I think I still have the link saved in my laptop." I mumbled, walking towards the device that was placed on my coffee table.

"Hold on. Did Patricia tell you anything specific about what the cake is?"

"No. She said that she trusts you."

"Fair enough." I shrugged.

Harry and I made up yesterday when he profusely apologised for his erratic behaviour. I, on the other hand, also said sorry for adding fuel to the fire that was our argument. He treated me to some gelatos and feet massage after we finish the cake.

Obviously, I said yes immediately. I brought the laptop to where Harry was busy sorting out the ingredients and helped myself on a stool.

"Okay. Let's prepare the pan first where we'll pour the cake batter...or batters. I think I have enough pans to make at least four colours of the rainbow at one go." I said, scrolling through the website.

Harry crouched down and retrieved the rectangular pans from the under the kitchen counter. I pulled the grocery bags near me to check if I got the food colourings necessary for the cake and lined them out one by one.

We started the cake batter for the first four set of colours and it consisted of me mixing and folding the ingredients in my trusty mixing bowl. Harry followed every instructions I gave him quietly. I stopped mixing the second batter and leaned over the counter to play some music on my laptop. It was getting eerily quiet. Electric Love by BØRNS started playing.

A minute into the song, Harry asked me who the artist is while humming the song.

"BØRNS. He's not well-known, which I like. His type of music is awesome." I answered, my focus not wavering from measuring the third batter's ingredients. "In fact, you actually look like him."

"Oh? How so?" He asked, finished with wrapping the second batter's bowl with cling wrap and setting it aside.

"Your curly long brown hair. Hold on. Let me google a picture of him." I tapped away on my keyboard and showed him a picture of BØRNS.

"Oh yeah. We do look somewhat alike. Weird. Maybe he's my long-lost brother." He mumbled, staring intently at the picture.

"Nah. You can't sing like him." I joked, shaking my head.

"Yep. True. You know, my mum once forced me to audition on this singing competition when I was a teen." He said.

"Oh yeah? What happened?"

"Couldn't do it. I was shaking as h.ell on the line. I felt like puking and sh.itting my pants, to be honest. We had to go home before I could walk up the stage."

"Too bad."

I resumed what I'm doing, meekly telling Harry that it's also impossible to have BØRNS as his big brother because he's an American. He cheekily grinned before sitting on one of the kitchen stool, waiting for me to give him instructions again. We were like that for at least an hour before my feet and hands started to get hurt from all the standing and stirring. Harry offered to take my place but I declined, slightly afraid he might mess up the ingredients or something.