The One Who Got Away is Back

Memory 8 ♡ Party Like You're Happy

I had about five sharp pins between my lips, which meant I had to be careful regarding how I went about this humming business. It was unavoidable, with my favorite playlist in the background as I worked on a design. I had a week to turn in two initial concepts for female clothes and I was fortunate enough to count on a willing model. Becca stood on a stool as I kneeled before her, picking up the hem to where I wanted it. The idea behind the design was something I called Sexy Demure. The dress had a maxi skirt than when seen up front seemed conservative, only before you looked up and saw that the torso was a series of fabric ribbons that entwined in a complicated pattern that did wonders for the tatas.

In other words, I was a genius.

The dress looked amazing on her, too, because Becca had all the proportions every girl wanted. Now that we'd spent a couple of weeks as roommates I knew it was because she exercised like a professional athlete, and since I was a complete slob I had no right to envy her and instead supported her efforts. All from the comfort of our couch, sharing chips with Ayrton.

I had propped up a mirror against the adjacent wall but I'd had her faced against it since we started until now. I finished the hem and told her to turn around. She gasped.

"Oh, my, gosh." Her hands went up to her cheeks. "I look so fucking hot."

"I knew you had it in you, all you needed was the right dress," I joked. Her eyes rolled but there was a grin on her face anyway. As I stood up and stretched my back, I noticed that the ribbons seemed to be pinching just below her ribs. "Is this part here uncomfortable?"

"A little tight," she admitted. "I'll add more pushups to my routine and it'll fit like a glove."

"Girl, no. Please," Ayrton said from the couch as he tip tapped on his laptop. "Watching you jump around the whole place makes me tired."

I sympathized, but the real reason why he was always so tired was because he'd grabbed the freaking night shift at the Magic Cafe. Being the owner's right hand, he could've taken the prime time shift but he'd said it was better that way. There weren't huge throngs of customers at night, which meant he could get a lot of work done in his films at the same time.

What he refused to accept was the fact that he should finish work and get home to sleep. Instead he made it back to the apartment and sat for hours more, still working on school projects. Like right now. I shook my head as he took a large enough gulp of coffee that it was a wonder he could breathe at the same time.

The song shifted and he and I perked up. My favorite tune from Casual Friday Funeral came up, and Ayrton and I started to sing along with Vera's voice at the top of our lungs. As he and I twirled around the living room like it was a waltz and not hard rock, we both realized that Becca was frozen in her spot.

"What's wrong?" I asked her and she cringed.

"This was one of my exes favorite songs."

"Fuck that guy," Ayrton started as he twirled me around. "Or girl, we don't judge. Don't let them ruin this masterful song for you."

I extended my arm as though I were a ballerina at the same time as Vera let out a scream from the heart. We might have got the cops called on us, but it was in the middle of the morning.

"Damn it, I want to go to another one of their shows." I sighed as the song ended and grabbed my phone to find another tune of theirs.

Then I saw the seven missed calls.

"Too bad they're touring Europe right now," Ayrton continued. "I just don't have that kinda dough yet."

As I scanned my cellphone screen I heard our roommate ask, "So, like, are you guys super fans or what?"