wed.

John's obsession with Monty Python is out of hand and Alex is having a bad day

...

10 years later.

"Then in ten years if I'm not married, you come find me, and I'll marry you." Click. Pause. Click. Rewind. Click. Play. "If I'm not married, you come find me, and I'll marry you." Click. Pause. Click. Rewind. Click. Play. "And I'll marry you." Click. Pause. Click. Rewind. Click. Play. "I'll marry you." Click. Pause. Click. Eject.

John slipped the tape into his bag. He clicked in another tape. Over the years he'd upgraded from creepily listening to people's conversations to listening to Monty Python and, occasionally, Funny Girl. The tapes of conversations that included Alex were shelved neatly on a rack, while any other taped conversations were thrown into a bin and shoved under John's bed. He didn't usually replay those anymore. Sometimes after work he'd click in one of Alex's tapes, pour himself a glass of wine, and sit by his window, watching the bustling city down below. 

John worked two jobs. A high school art teacher, which was great because he didn't really have to talk to people, by day. And a restaurant dishwasher, which John didn't hate, by night. After work, his apartment was a safe haven. His cat, that was actually the neighbor's cat, greeted him at the fire escape window. John would allow the cat inside and they would watch some form of a documentary, while John had his glass of wine. He liked the little bit of company before the neighbor's called for their pet. 

John tapped his foot, waiting for the elevator doors to open. When they did, he slipped into the elevator, listening along to Monty Python in his headphones. 

John's mental health, since high school, was better, to say the least. He took pills to keep him stable and he wasn't ashamed of it. He played music constantly to drown out his thoughts. Besides, the ten-year deal kept John from killing himself. He wanted Alex to marry him. So everyday John did his affirmations, took his pills, kept Alex in his mind, and, when he had a breakdown, he dosed himself up on some more meds.

The elevator chimed as the doors opened. John walked out. When he waved to the doorman, he pretended that the doorman stopped him to chat. He imagined a couple of conversations in his head. They'd go back and forth, talking about each other's interests and what they did and their hobbies. John told himself that he might talk to Mr. Doorman one day. Afterall, Mr. Doorman wasn't too bad looking.

The brisk New York morning air caused John to stop and briefly catch his breath before continuing on the sidewalk. John had basically lived in New York his whole life. He moved here when he was five, so New York was his city. He just felt completely outcasted most of the time. He liked that, though. It was very easy, as an adult, to fall into the background in New York.

The subway was actually a comfort for John. As long as he had his headphones on, of course. He stepped onto the train and took a seat quickly. If he didn't sit, he knew he'd get nauseas and dizzy; he learned that one the hard way. On one side of him a woman held a screaming child and on the other side of him an old man sat, scanning a newspaper. The man glanced up, having felt John staring. John sent a forced smile before looking away.

...

Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, Alexander Hamilton was living his own life.

Alex sipped his coffee, pausing to look out his kitchen window, watching the sunrise. He mentally shook himself. "Today is going to be a long day," he mumbled to himself, turning away from the window. He poured his coffee from his mug into his thermos and started to prepare to leave his house. 

He pulled on his jacket, grabbed his computer bag, gave a pat to his dog, and then walked out of the house. He swung his keys, walking to his car. Alex tossed his bag in the passenger seat and then turned the key in the ignition, the car refusing to start. He sighed exasperated. "All this fucking money I spend on expensive shit and this happens," he muttered to himself as he started down the sidewalk, deciding to take the subway.