Dreaming In Stereo

Part 9 ~ Early Morning 'Perks'

Chris got up early the next morning. The sun had barely risen; its crimson rays peeking over the small hills in the distance, filtering through the air. Chris closed his eyes. His senses sharpened. It felt like a good day--he could hear birds chirping in the nearby forest, flying through their backyard. Warmth spread across his tanned skin. He reopened his eyes. The alarm clock lying on his bedside table read, in faded red digits: 5:47.

Chris opened his wardrobe door and stared at the shirtless reflection of himself in the mirror. His eyes ran down a well-toned set of abs, like deep, distinct ripples etched into his stomach. Chris was also wearing a pair of cotton green shorts, which were wrinkled and unkempt just like the mess of black hair on his head. For a moment, he instinctively reached for a white collared shirt and tie--school uniform--but then he realised it was a Saturday. No school today. Instead, he pulled on a white tee shirt, the v-neck cleverly exposing a haunting collarbone, and Chris's favourite pair of jeans. They fitted perfectly, like old shoes, softly molded to Chris's fit. A hole ripped in the left knee, white fading into soft, light-washed denim.

Chris walked slowly to his bathroom and rested his arms over the marble sink, pressing his side against the whitewashed walls. He sighed and picked up a comb, brushing it through his black hair, gently tugging against the tiny tangles.

After he'd combed his hair and brushed his teeth, Chris walked downstairs for breakfast. The kitchen was empty. Sometimes, it felt quite lonely being the only child. It was a small family. He was envious of his friends, whose houses were always bustling with a sort of youthful energy, where behind each door was a crazy sibling who would both entertain you and annoy you mildly (maybe not so mildly). But Chris was an only child. The closest thing he had to a brother or a sister were cousins. And Lara.

Chris finished his breakfast quickly--a bowl of cereal and milk. He rinsed the bowls under gentle water and placed them in the sink, then went upstairs to finish up some homework. But ten minutes into a sheet of negative multiplications, Chris hit a moment of brain-dead-ness. The numbers bounced up and down the sheet and made absolutely no sense to his mind.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Chris tapped in the passcode and then went straight to messages. He clicked on Lara and typed in a quick text:

C: I'm ready to take you up on that busking thing :) Pick you up fifteen minutes after you respond and BRING YOUR BRD

Ten minutes later, his phone pinged.

L: CHIS IT'S LIKE SIX OCLK AND IZ SAT GO BK 2 BED LV ME IN PECCEE

C: Fifteen minutes starting in 3, 2, 1...

L: goddamn it chris ;|

Chris laughed. He retrieved his guitar case, pulled open a drawer and pulled out a fresh pad of yellow sticky notes. Grabbing a pencil, Chris scrawled:

busking w/ lara. got phone with me. will not be kidnapped, raped, murdered, attempt suicide. I'll be fine. Don't worry

Chris read over his note, crossed out 'kidnapped, raped, murdered attempt suicide' and replaced them with 'get in trouble'. Then he grinned, grabbed an unmatched pair of blue and grey socks, his phone and wallet and walked downstairs. Chris stuck the note on the dining table. He pulled the socks on, picked a pair of shoes: black and white Converse, and then grabbed his skateboard and went out of the door. With the guitar case slung over his shoulder, Chris set the board done and rode. He ollied down the stairs and stumbled a little as he rode through the little path through his garden. The gate was open and he pushed it slightly and then turned and jumped down to the road, which was empty.

He took the familiar route to Lara's place, turning on instinct rather than thinking about it. Sure enough, five minutes later he slowed to a stop as he caught sight of a wavy brown-haired girl with a pastel blue penny board.