𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐄𝐍 - Greta Van Fleet

six.

-We're here- Daniel announced, relieved the knife cutting athmosphere of his hatchback Toyota took an end.

The driver parallel parked the vehicle, letting out an audible sigh as his hands swayed along the leather covered steering wheel. Afterwards and arching his spine, Samuel's bandmate reached blindly for a pair of keys, thrown randomly in between the beverage holder.

Considering how poorly organized it presented to be, he strived on finding the one he was indeed looking for in the first place. Hasty, the youngest of the pair got out the black car before his friend and led the way over to the appartment.

The Wagner's new property was located in a busy venue midd centre, being this the main reason to why he ended choosing the two roomed appartment to live in. It was usually where the band would hang out if not at a bar near their gig's location or if they wouldn't aggree on visiting one of Jake's iffy chosen pubs.

It was a three floor high building, tinted in a washed out white tone, which was branched by broad windows making it simple to identify whose appartment was whose. Each of those glassed apertures functioned as a brief door to its lodger's sphere, resembling to an assembly of people-sized worlds.

Nevertheless, they could be, in the same way, ambigously up to one's imagination, when picturing each story behind the compartment's windows.

There was, however, one that would stand out: right close to Daniel's appartment. Even in a flustered run to enter the house, Samuel couldn't resist on peaking at the so mentioned window. Its owner showed to be casually comfortable on keeping her residence's curtains unveiled to the side, widening the view to its inside. There could be identified a large wall displaying what he deemed as paperwork taped to it.

Quite odd, he would judge when he visited his friend, by virtue of how eccentric her personality could be traited on the way she adorned the appartment.

She, as the neighbours knew, being this the mere introduction they were given. No other detail of the owner could be reached, in spite of her physic.

The drummer would refer to the woman as "the one song in a playlist that comes as nostalgically fullfulling, still, turns on driving you void". And so, alike any other of the neighbours, Samuel's inner desire to unpuzzle the woman's background remained lighted each time he walked on Daniel's street.

When entering through the main door the band members face fronted a heavy scent of what immediatly their minds associated to weed.

-Ah shit, I was here with some guys from the first floor and I forgot to clean up.

Letting out a throated scoff, his friend took of the grey chelsea boots he had worn to the night out, leaving his feet uncovered.

-Still have any left for me Dan?- asked while waltzing barefoot by the drummer's lounge room, familiarizing with the division's components.

Along the main standardized light wall and in between the television stand, there could be seen photos collages where Samuel recognised his and his brother's figures in a picture their band had taken on one of the first appearances as a group.

Also effortlessly recognisable for someone known of Daniel's musical preferences, there could be seen his favourite album covers disposed along the black furniture.

-Yeah, just do it near the window- he pointed, taking his dark jean jacket off and hanging it on a wooden coat hanger- Tomorrow the building's owner is coming to check in how things are going and she's not a fan of this appartment rotting in weed.

-Why's that? – the Kiszka inquired as his friend threw a transparent plastic bag, coloured by the dark green of what it held, which Sam caught with his right hand as it flew in the air.

- They're renewing the first and last floor, like a whole new make over- Daniel clarified, walking to his appartment's kitchen - apparently there's this plan on turning this and nextdoor's building into a more family friendly zone or some shit like that.

-Straight up like a daycare uh?- commented the brunette, while twisting subsequently in opposite directions the bag's substance inside a metal covered grinder.

-Sort of- Daniel agreed, reaching for the top cabinet of his kitchen.

The Wagner's kitchen obeyed the modest laid back personality of the rest of its house, including a charcoal grey set of cupboards and a glossy tile backsplash similar to carrara marble.

No other sound besides Sam shoving gently the weed to a joint he filled in briefly, since Daniel got caught up on reading his text messages.

-Alright, Im going to bed- the drummer announced as he put his phone back to his backpocket- The sheets from the guests room are clean so you can sleep there or... just crash in the couch- he proposed when noticing how cozily the youngest Kiszka laid with the cigarette he had lighted in between his plump lips  - Good night Sam.

-Good night Dan.

Daniel's frame soon strolled to the bedroom located in the back of the residence, leaving the brunette accompanied by his thoughts.

He sketched a peaceful smile, enjoying himself as his lungs met up with the substance.

His phone began chiming rhythmically, signalling incoming texts the male chose to ignore.

Yet, his subconscience kept suggesting him not to.

"You can't do this without me Sammy and I don't think they'll be as happy as you think .

I love you either way, good night."

He read, at last.