Call Me Back Again

CHAPTER 2

"I'm in love... I'm all shook up..." Paul interrupted his grooming routine to launch into his best impression of Elvis' signature wiggle, much to the amusement of Mike, if his snort was to be taken as a review of his older brother's dancing skills. Not that Paul was about to be bothered by that. When he heard those old tunes, the jitterbug just took over, and he didn't see how that was anyone's business but his own although, of course, it made him wonder sometimes.

It wasn't the first time that Paul had the fleeting thought that he should've been born fifty years earlier. He'd always been drawn to old music like Buddy Holly, the Everly Brothers, Chuck Berry, Little Richard, and - obviously - Elvis Presley, who was his biggest idol. The young Elvis, mind you. Not the fat caricature the legend had become in the seventies, shortly before his tragic death. Imagine dying on the loo...

Suppressing an involuntary chuckle at the mental image, Paul imagined how great it must have been to grow up when rock 'n' roll was all the rage. But alas: his passport clearly stated 18 June 1992 as his date of birth, which must mean he really wasn't around when girls wore petticoats and boys had pompadours. He supposed his own, improvised, version of that style would have to do. And so he loved to grease back his hair in a DA, and walk around in drainpipe jeans which he'd roll up so they ended right above his ankles, skinny ties, and the brothel creepers he found at some website that sold all kinds of fifties- and sixties inspired clothes.

"Haven't you finished yet, Paul? You're not getting any younger, you know. Or prettier..." Shrieking with laughter, Mike deftly dodged the half-empty shampoo bottle Paul hurled at his head and disappeared in the direction of the sitting room. The annoying git...

Sadly, he wasn't entirely wrong, Paul concluded as he glanced at his watch. He'd disappeared into the bathroom with the idea to have a quick shower before his long-anticipated date. However, two hours had passed since. Granted, half of that had been spent soaking in the tub, but he couldn't deny the simple and somewhat disturbing fact that he'd spent nearly an hour on towelling off, getting dressed, and grooming. Which also meant he had been trying to get his hair just right for over thirty minutes: a new low, even for him. Especially since he still wasn't quite happy with the result. It looked exactly like Elvis wore his in the picture Paul had taped to the bathroom mirror for reference, and yet... Something was off, but what?

Still, it hadn't been a complete waste of time. Listening to good music never was, nor was singing along to said music as loudly as possible, one of Paul's favourite pastimes. Looking at the time, though, he realised he had to hurry and even if he did, chances were he'd be late to pick up his date.

Paul had first spotted Natalie three months prior, and he'd fallen in love instantly. He didn't even know that much about her, other than that she studied something-something tourism, she was a year younger than him, and she was difficult to persuade into going on a date. He should know, he'd been trying to convince her from the day he first saw her. Then again, maybe she just didn't fancy him all that much... It had been known to happen.

And now, after finally getting what he wanted, he was about to fuck it up because they were supposed to be at the restaurant at seven, it had already gone six, meaning that unless a miracle happened, they'd arrive late. Not knowing the place's policy on missed reservations, Paul hoped he wouldn't end up having to settle for McDonald's or the chippy...

"Would it have killed you to warn me, Mike?" Paul hurriedly gathered his things, scolding his sibling as he went, walking past his phone twice before spotting it and nearly bursting an artery when he couldn't find his keys. "Fucking hell, she's going to kill me. Or worse: cancel the date."

Chuckling at the half-arsed Harry Potter reference, Mike brushed past Paul and picked up the keys that were in the exact same spot the always were: on the little shelf next to the hat rack. He dangled them tauntingly in front of Paul's face. "You have got to get your priorities straight."