AT LEAST IT'S ALL ABOUT YOU // Dream X Reader

1

Summer in Florida was hot. Like, almost a hundred degrees every day hot. And that wasn't the worst part. The air turned into a swamp until it felt like you were breathing in water and you were going to suffocate from just stepping outside. It was no wonder why people flocked to the sea like birds in the summer - the breeze from the ocean alleviated some of the humidity and the beach was a pretty sight, but only if you were willing to have the sun beat down on you without any layer of protection.

Summer in Florida was hell on earth. You were just happy that the Starbucks you worked in was air conditioned. Though the constant demand for iced coffee was a little annoying. And dealing with sweaty customers at the window. And sweaty customers at the counter. But the air conditioning made it all bearable.

The air conditioning was the best part - getting off and finding your car hotter than the sun was the worst part.

You sighed, starting the ritual that you went through every day after work. You unlocked your car and did a lap around the vehicle, opening all the doors to air it out. You rolled down all the windows while you were at it - it would take too long for the air conditioning in your car to get going, and the breeze was just better.

You leaned up against the car, and pulling out your phone as you waited for the air to get circulating, checking the texts you had missed while you had been working. One new text in the family group chat (you, your mom, your step-dad Shawn), directed at you.

Y/N on your way home from work can you pick up a baguette from the grocery store? Myra's coming home for dinner tonight - Mama's making spaghetti :) !!!

You chuckled at the too proper wording, but shot back a text - sure thing omw out of work now - and did the second round, shutting all the doors before hopping into your car, wincing as your legs hit the seat. You were excited to see your step-sister though - it had been a while since she was truly home not just for a holiday. The life of an indie pop star didn't let Myra come home that often.

Ignoring the burning feeling on your legs, you started up the car, pulling out of the parking space, and starting towards the grocery store. As you were pulling out of the parking lot you flipped the radio, waiting a second for your phone to connect and start playing. When it did, it was Myra's music - you had been listening to her stuff on the way in this morning.

Myra's music was full of feeling but still managed to twist the mind - the kind of alternative that still was digestible for people who didn't generally like alternative music; and still managed to get on pop radio if the song was catchy enough. You could still hear the muffled sound of her writing these songs in her bedroom from when you were younger - you would have never guessed that the music she was writing when you were sixteen would end up on the radio someday.

The song ended as you merged onto the highway and another familiar song started up - not by Myra but by an adjacent band to the Myracle Makers that you also liked - the Dream Team. You had found out about them through Myra's music (Spotify thought that they went together well) and you had fallen in love with a couple of their songs, and then a couple more, until you were in their top .5% of listeners. They were one of your favorite bands, and their song Florida Smile was a song for the soul.

You smiled to yourself, turning up the radio. The familiar beat of the drums pumped through the speakers of your car and you began to sing along as the lead singer - he went by Dream as a stage name (like Dream's Team... haha) - began to sing. You knew all the words by heart.

And you've got a Florida smile... sends my heart racing to the mark at the mile...

A little corny, but every good band has at least one so-bad-it's-good song. Myra made a point to put one on every album.

The breeze coming through the windows finally began to cool the car down, pushing all the stagnant heat and humidity out of the way. You were looking forward to changing out of your uniform and hopping in a nice cool shower when you got home - no amount of deodorant could fend off a whole day of work, especially in the heat. And, spaghetti tonight. That was always good - your mom made the best spaghetti, but you only got it on special occasions, like holidays or family gatherings, or Myra coming home.

It would be good to see her. Yeah, you listened to her music almost every day, and texted her all the time, but it would be nice to actually see your step-sister in person. It had been a while since she moved to Miami, and it would be nice to have her home. You hadn't seen her since you graduated college - it had been three months. She had probably changed her hair again.

Florida smile... Florida smile... Florida smile... we're racing for the mile...

The song came to a close as you pulled off the highway and into the grocery store parking lot. You circled around for a bit looking for a spot - it was crowded now, you were sure everyone else who had just gotten off work was stopping in to pick things up before they went home as well. Eventually you did find one and pull into place, putting the car in park and disconnecting your phone. You would listen to more Dream Team on the way home.

You just hoped the lines at the self checkout weren't too long. You didn't want one baguette to take thirty minutes.