Liandra Almere isn't happy but she isn't sad either. She has amazing friends who support her through all her crazy thoughts. She even has her own band which is quite successful for a college band. She is just going through her normal life without an...
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"Five more minutes, Norris." Amos shouts from the bathroom while I am ready to leave for my practice. I am waiting for him to get ready because he wanted to come and join me. I am quite sure that he wants to see the guys practice. Taking their shirts off would be an advantage for sure.
But he says that it is roommate bonding. He thinks I am stupid but I just let it slide.
"Amos, I really can't be late." He opens the door of our bathroom and steam fills our place. I really should have known that he was taking a very hot shower. Amos' skin is used to the heat I guess because the guy always takes hot showers. "You are never late, honey. You can only be not on time."
He passes me and gives my shoulder a little squeeze. "That does not make any sense at all. Not on time means being late."
He waves his hands in the air. "It is totally different. And have you never heard of the whole being fashionable late to parties?"
"I know about that. I am not that much older than you." We are actually the same age but he likes to call me an old soul. He says that I don't know shit about the trends nowadays. I think it is just his way of telling me that I am not as cool as him.
Which I am not. But I won't tell him that.
"As I said before you are an old soul. Nothing wrong with that but yeah still you are like my father at times." He doesn't even look like he is going to my practice but at some fashion show. He is wearing suit pants with some weird pattern and a white shirt tucked inside. His hands are covered with all kinds of rings, which are second-hand since he has told me that he loves thrift shopping and a necklace from his mother.
He looks ready for anything else than seeing me sweat my ass off on a field. I do find it nice of him to come and join me. I don't have a lot of friends since I don't like to talk to many people. But when I do, I just never stop talking and it makes me overthink if they actually like me.
It is a constant circle of me worrying whether people do like me or not. And most of the time I think that they don't like me.
"Come on, slowpoke. We don't want to be late to your practice because you are too busy ogling me." Taking my bag from the table, I make my way to the door where Amos is checking himself out in the mirror he placed next to it.
The place is decorated by him and some parts are from me which isn't a lot. I didn't really bring a lot with me because I don't want people asking me questions. And stuff that you own makes people consider asking you questions about them. That is why most of my stuff is still at my old house rotting away in the basement.
Amos on the other hand likes to answer questions about himself. I just have to look at something and he has a story for it. Our daily diners are him talking about something that he did as a teenager or child because I look at something in our apartment. I don't mind hearing him talk because he is a great storyteller. And I have always been a better listener than a talker.
