playlisted /H.S./

Too much

It was a lovely early Friday morning in London. Meaning: the weather was kind to those on bikes, who decided to start the day with a few miles and basically anyone who was awake in that time, when the first rays of the Sun peaked thought, when the blackbird started the mallow song Harry was fond of.

Our location? One window in from that oak tree the bird sat on, a well lit living room now with dimmed lights. Books and vinyls scattered, a bottle of red half empty next to a few other, a week of random thoughts written on paper sprinkled atop instruments, books open, and faint music playing in the sound system. And a Harry humming. That Harry.

Lying on the ground, mindlessly playing with the material of the rug underneath him.

Next to him is safe to say, the sand coloured sofa had seen better days. It was now being occupied by a wild haired man, who looked down at Harry in hiss over-worn T-shirt and boxer.

"You ok?" Mitch asked while messing with his perfectly imperfect bun, which needed a washing more than ever. But no Sarah, no orders, he lived his boyhood days.

Our boys were in flow.
They had a deadline.
November.

Hence they called it Harry-ween-madness, a deadline they were laughing about, but now approaching, the team went wild, and on and on about it.
A close deadline.
Nerves wrecking deadline.
A reserved guy and his friend, in a bit tipsy way, but still working hard.
Or not.

They were staring at Harry's playlist left open on a tablet between them.

The blackbird kept on addig his lines.

"I wanna ask about that song." Mitch pointed at an upbeat song, which stood out from all. "What a mood could it..." He laughed it off.

"Respectfull, Mitch. Fuck off." Harry snapped back, and turned to his belly.

"No need to bite, Harry." Said while observing Harry's screen, flipping through songs. "I-N-T-E-R-E-S-T-I-N-G playlist, mate. Really it is"

Harry's eyes wandered around then a few seconds later, a quiet puff of air left his mouth.

"Awful, innit?" He pushed his head back to his hands, covering his eyes with an arm, leaving the small scratches on the rug.

"Loverboy, judging by the whole playtime of this... khm, yeah, veeery awful life you got."

"That's what I'm about!" Harry exclaimed, raising his voice. "Nonsense. I want one where all links to one, or ok, two...ok, a few. Nevermind. This? This is A LOT of feeling." His hands were stirring the air between him and the squinted eyed Mitch.

"Great source." He pointed out and laid back on the sofa staring down at his now dark green eyed creative hitting his head.

"Yep... source of agony... please remind me why we jumped down on this rabbit hole?" Harry peaked thought his fingers.

Mitch raised a finger, listening to the song on the speaker, leaving Harry for his thoughts.

"Ah! So you replaying this song means one of them stood out?" Mitch's enthusiasm for finding Harry a lifelong partner was shown by him clapping his hands like an idiot, bouncing again in his new seated position.

Harry's face turned pink.

"I hate this. It is like an awful romantic film..." Harry felt the need for the lost curls around his ears, that hairstyle he rocked was cool for... "AAAAW. Memories." He exclaimed again now laughing.

"Tell me more, we have time" sounded the excellent psychology classification of go on by the wine choking Mitch.

Harry scratched his nape looking puzzled. "Mate, it is really different now."

"Mate, don't lie to yourself. We got 3 proper album of ideas from your little adventures..."

"Shut up."

"Personal fav? The girl you met..."

"SHUT UP!"

"Ok-ok"

And the blackbird ended his song at the same time the last song died.

"Let's listen to what we have..." Mitch didn't wait for Harry's allowance, jumped right into it.

<< Imagine a song  like Too Much Souce playing >>

"You see?"

"I need to drink more for that" Harry stood, and tapped his feet till he got to the minibar.

*

Hiii

Firstly, wow. Thank you for reading!

You may came here to get the first chapter, so sorry as this is like a pre to all.

Before reading on, please note:
- feel free to comment
- feel free to imagine
- feel free to be and believe.

Respect:
- the other's view
- the real life of the here mentioned people
(all imagined, please forgive the unintentional)
- TPWK, ok?
And if possible, just include me here being a foreigner typing you in English.