A Lovely Pear

Track One: Ice Cream

It is a universally known fact that childhood friendships have a low chance of surviving into adulthood. On average, people change every five years. Interests change, personalities change, circumstances change. People drift apart. So really, there is no guarantee that the person you are so infatuated with at the young age of maybe seven is going to be the same person twenty years later. There is absolutely no controlling that.

This is a mild crisis Sebastian experience every so often when he thinks about how fragile the human life is. Maybe it's not the healthiest thing to spend his time dwelling on on a cloudy Saturday morning, but these thoughts seem to sneak up on him. No warning whatsoever. He does not necessarily mind them coming through every so often so much as he does mind them coming through on days where he is looking to relax.

He inhales the smell of wet soil and gazes down at the bustling streets. He spots a dog nuzzling into a little girl. A young couple holding hands while eating cotton candy. Two children running around in their oversized raincoats and boots. The ambience is welcome.

Sebastian glances at the two succulent plants hanging from the balcony's railing. He hasn't actually properly watered them in weeks, but thanks to the persistent rain from the last two weeks it wasn't really necessary. He closes his eyes and rolls his neck on his shoulders. He distinctly hears something pop in his shoulder blade, and winces because that means a certain someone will insist on playing masseuse later. A sudden chill comes over him. He peers up at the sky and sees that the clouds have darkened in the past few minutes. Rain time.

He unhooks the succulent pots from the balcony railing and retreats into the apartment. He shuts the sliding door with his elbow and sets the succulents down on the small coffee table in the middle of the room. One of the succulents has one little leaf that looks dried up. Sebastian frowns and makes a mental note to look that up later. He slumps down into the big beanbag chair haphazardly pushed into the corner.

A loud thump sounds from a room down the short hall. Then another one and a frustrated "ugh monkey suits". Sebastian snorts in amusement. He wiggles further into the beanbag chair and calls out: "You okay there, CJ?"

A door opens and he hears faint muttering. CJ comes wobbling out the hallway in a tuxedo and fancy dress shoes. His normally untamed curly hair has been mostly smoothed down with some gel (and a lot of effort). The bow-tie he is wearing looks uncomfortably tight and he's fiddling with his cufflinks. "So? You think the prissy lawyers at the wedding will buy it?" CJ does a mocking twirl and almost falls flat on his face when he steps on a shoelace. "My God."

Ah yes. The Wedding. Capitals. The wedding in referral to CJ's father's boss's wedding. CJ had been invited as his father's plus one for the sole purpose of meeting a few big shot lawyers in hopes to make some connections so that CJ can have an easier access to a job after he finishes his studies. CJ had reluctantly agreed to attend in hopes of being able to spend some time with his father. Unfortunately for CJ, his father had a reputation for not keeping promises to his son. The disappointment is inevitable. CJ has hope, though. Misplaced hope, but hope, nonetheless.

Sebastian shakes his head and rolls out of the beanbag chair. He walks towards CJ slowly, taking in his outfit. Pants fit nicely, vest looks decent, blazer compliments his complexion, but the shoes and bowtie are a no-go. "Laced loafers and a bowtie? C'mon, man."

CJ groans in frustration. "Is it really that bad? I didn't have anything else! I'm not made for dressing fancy." He emphasizes his point by adding a slight English twang to the word "fancy". He looks down at his shoes that Sebastian knows are too small and stiff. "You wouldn't happen to have any dress shoes would you?"

"I'm the son of a fashion designer who loves flaunting his son to the press," Sebastian deadpans. He pats CJ's chest and stalks off to his room. "I always have dress-shoes."