Who doesn't love sitting by the beach, doing the same you would've been doing at the house but just better scenery. Everything is beautiful out here. Of all days Grendel has been in Miami for the past month, this has been his most enjoyable day yet. His day consisted of meeting up with old friends over a couple games of basketball at the gym, and the latter half of spending time at the beach with his "older" friends, his "closer friends."
Arriving at the sand, he takes off his sandals and he immediately feels home. The soft, pleasant sand under his bare feet allows him to be free. Very quickly, they set up the chairs and the drinks right after. Only getting started, they get settled with a few games of spike ball. First one is always the most competitive, as for its also the most sober. After each game, with one always watching on the sidelines, they'd regroup at the chairs to hydrate themselves with seltzers and in this one particular regroup, they lit up a joint. He was already feeling nice but he knew this joint would hit different, especially for his head was pounding for a reason that he was unsure of and cause it had been a while. The wind was bothersome, blowing the ball out of path in spikeball and causing this joint to light up terribly. "Why's this joint so small? Where are the king-sized cones? Fuck. I lit it up terribly, now it's gonna last even shorter." Nonetheless, they were all glad to be smoking under the full moon which was weirdly placed on the sun-set sky.
Wow, how he had missed this feeling. Having been so accustomed to smoking on the regular, the cough attack still came for him, and him only. Must've been so long since he smoked, he missed it up there. As the voices around him faded into silence, he noticed he had been holding the joint for too long. And suddenly everyone else noticed too and it became apparent. Had he been just smoking it like it was his own for the past minute? two minutes? He has no clue but he quickly passes the poorly lit, dying joint off to his right. Disrespect. It was felt upon by everyone, and immediately he grew self-conscious of it. No one saying anything, trying to hold back the disbelief of what just happened, they all tried to play it off but he felt the annoyance in the air and he didn't know what to do. Especially crossed, all his thoughts centered around this now and he was flustered. Anxious to say something and set it right. He wants to apologize but that won't do anything, he already smoked all of it. Now what.... now silence. Eyes darting everywhere that wasn't near him. A sense of uneasiness has seemed to set upon the beach along with the sun. Now with the joint gone, it was time to get back to spikeball and it was his turn to sit out. Knowing what the topic of conversation would be at the net, he goes to his phone near where they set up and tries to distract himself but it's impossible. Too much regret, guilt, he felt like he betrayed them all and their reactions only made it worse for him. He wishes they had said something so they could address it then and he'd be able to respond and they'd all keep going with their day, but they never did. Only thing he heard regarding that instance was at the net: "What was that..." "He just chillen." And that's exactly how he felt prior to growing self conscious. He didn't realize he had it in his hands til it grew old in his fingertips and everyone else was looking for it, looking for something to hit. Who knows to where his mind was off to as he sucked the life out of the joint. He felt so terribly sorry but they say never mention the death to those grieving.
The game ended and they came back for a regroup - from smiles to awkward glances and an uncomfortable silence. He kept a smile on his face and was ready to jump at whatever conversation they offered next. Basketball was the next the topic and whenever he piped in, they listened but then felt as if they didn't know what to say. Was it something he said or did they just feel like they had nothing to say to him? He had no idea but he didn't know what else to do. He filled up the silence at attempts to revive the conversation or start a new one but was hit with silence again. Now he was feeling like the villain. What has he done, after not remembering much before killing the joint except good vibes, now all he felt like they were all hiding something. The conversations they had after this were to cover up the "obvious" that no one wanted to address. Like dealing with an outsider. Now this can all be in his head cause he was in fact crossed but he always felt like he was able to read people better when so. He felt uneasy in his situation, not sure how to react to the slightest of movements. He sensed his uneasiness to be so grand that it loomed over them all. No one knew what to do now and he felt he was at fault. Oh what he'd give to go back and redo that sesh. He felt so alone. Like no one understood, he didn't mean harm.
But what made him as equally uncomfortable was the worker picking up the umbrella and seats. Both minorities, he received side glances and glares from the worker while continuing to go around and collect, as if trying to figure him out. He wasn't entirely too sure what attracted the weird glares because a few moments before, the worker spotted their cones and said to one of them "The moment I saw them cones I knew what time it was." Now the worker was acting defensive almost around him, not allowing too much eye contact between the two but always keeping an eye on him. He tried to get it in the mind of the worker and imagine what he would think if saw he himself at the beach. Was his uneasiness seeping through onto the physical world? His mind has been on the run since then but he has no idea whether or not he's made it obvious how he felt to others. Has the uneasiness loomed over the worker as well after he seemed in a good mood just moments before? He had no idea and he hated it. He felt the same uneasiness he felt earlier with his friends but if anything this time stronger, it was a one on one uneasiness.
