Muse

CHAPTER 2

Songs:

Owl City - Fireflies

Michael Nyman - The Heart Asks Pleasure First

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The next day, Saturday, rolls around and I wake up around 11:50 a.m., a quick flashback of my conversation with Tweek yesterday runs through my mind and I groggily get up and out of bed. I throw on a pair of old worn out jeans and a black t-shirt that's two or three sizes too big for me, then try to tame my messy bed head with cowlicks sticking up in every which way off of my head.

I manage to get most of my hair under control, except for one strand on the top of my head. I glare at it in the mirror briefly before shrugging in defeat and put my coat on. After pulling my hood up I head out.

I pull up at the address that's written on the piece of paper Tweek gave me a short while later and glance out my window at it.

"Guess this is the place," I think aloud.

I exit my truck and walk to the front door then ring the doorbell. As I wait, I think that I hear what sounds like a loud thud, like something falling, then a couple of seconds later the door opens. Tweek now stood there. He doesn't say anything right away, but fidgets a bit.

"You're here!" he says surprised.

"Yeah, you said between noon and one didn't you?" I say, arching a brow, "Or do you want me to come back later?"

"N-no! It's fine, you're right, I said that!" he exclaims, "Come in," he motions for me and moves aside.

I walk into the house and am instantly hit with the overwhelming scent of coffee, like that of the shop that he and his parents run. I move aside so he can close the door and take my boots off. I pull down my hood as he locks the door, then when he looks back at me, his gaze is instantly drawn to the top of my head. I know what he's staring at, that strand of hair sticking up right. That one, lone, defiant, strand of hair that refuses to succumb to the laws of physics and stay down on my head.

"It doesn't like to be stared at," I tell him.

His gaze quickly turns away and he heads towards the stairs awkwardly.

"Um, you can come up if you want, I was actually just finishing up the gift I wanted to give you before you arrived."

I arch an eyebrow again, "Finishing up?"

"Yeah," he stops walking up on the third step and faces me a bit, "it's almost done, so you can come up to my room and wait a bit if you want to," he tells me then points to the first step, "but—nngh—be careful of that first step, it's slippery," he narrows his eyes at it momentarily, then turns back around and proceeds up the stairs.

I stand there for a moment watching him go up, then down at the step he pointed to. A thought comes to mind relating to the sound I had heard before the door opened, but I shake my head and follow him up the stairs.

When I get upstairs there's a door open to a room, I walk to it and find that Tweek is already sitting down inside it at a desk. I enter the room to find a bunch of stuff scattered all over the place. An array of posters with various media covers the walls, such as sports, animals, music and so forth. Then there's a half made bed with clothes just tossed about here and there all over it. And the carpet, hell, I'm surprised that I can even see the damn thing with all the other stuff covering the flooring. I know that my room's a bit messy also, but Tweek's room, compared to mine, looks like a goddamn hurricane went through it. Although, with how he acts, I feel that I shouldn't be that surprised by it either.