Irregular

1

My hands shake as I drag my fingers across my old piano. It has to be at least a century old, with its eerie creaking and broken keys. I let myself think about who might've played it when it was new, when it was made, what it's made of. I sighed. I usually played a song called Ingenuine. It's my favorite, with its chords and rythmic melody. I let my fingers finish the last chord, and get up. I grab my housekeys and head out.

I'm not sure where I'm going. Just... out. My small apartment gets boring every once in a while. I walked around my block, then out to the park. The grass was a vibrant green, the opposite of my block's landscape. I may not live in a good neighborhood, but it's all I can afford. A couple was having a little picnic, on a cliché red and white checkered blanket. Kids frolicked from around the large field to the playground. Someone had brought their dog, and the dog was running back to their owner, a frizbee in their mouth. It's currently Sunday, at 2:41pm. It's a nice 17C (about 80F), and breezy. I decided to walk towards the local coffee shop.

The coffee shop was quiet, and calm. I'd come here often, so often that Rachel, the cashier, and I are friends. Since she can understand sign language, I can order when she's at the register. I walk up, and greet Rachel.
Hello, I sign.
"Hi Daniel, what can I get you today?"
I'll get the... caramel mocha please.
"Gotcha," she said, whipped around and started making it, "That'll be £2.67, please!"
I got my wallet out, pulled out 3 pounds and placed them on the counter.
"Here you go," she said, placing a mug on the counter, and putting the £3 into the register.
She gave me my change and I went and sat at a seat near a window. It was one of those tables that was higher than a normal table, and so was the chair. They were both a soft green, and metal. I pulled out my phone and scrolled through instagram and twitter. Nothing interesting, but I kept scrolling anyway. I noticed someone sat across from me. I set my phone down, and looked at them.

"Hi," he said.
A tall, pale man, with midnight hair sat across from me.
Hello, I signed, knowing he can't understand it.
"Does that mean hello? I don't really understand sign language, sorry."
I shook my head, and smiled, taking out a notebook and a pen from my pocket.
Yes, it does. I'm mute, I can't make any sound in any way. Laughing, screaming, even talking, I scribbled down. I have bad handwriting, sorry.
He read through it, "Oh no, sorry. I didn't mean to be rude. Thats, not weird, but unusual. It's kinda cool, I guess. It must be hard for you though, hm?"
Yeah. There's a lot I have to deal with. What's your name?
"That sucks, and my name is Phillip, but I prefer Phil. What's yours?"
Daniel. Call me Dan though please.
"Ok! Here," he said, scribbling down a string of numbers, "take my number, maybe we can be friends. I gotta go. Maybe I'll see you later?"
I nodded.
Bye!, I signed, and then waved.
I finished my drink and headed back home.

I locked my door behind me and flopped down onto my couch. It was pretty shitty, but then again, it was all I could afford. I passed out, and when I woke up, I felt sad. No idea why, I was just, bummed out. I sighed, I was always like this. Pressure was always on my shoulders and I never know how to get rid of it. Maybe I was stressed. I checked my phone, and texted the number Phil gave me.

Phil?
Dan, is that you?
Yes. How are you? :-)
I'm pretty good. What about you?
Kinda sad, I guess.
Do you need a hug?
I guess I could use one right now. I live in......Come visit me?
I'm on my way. :-)

I shit you not, he was here in ten minutes. He must not live far.
I heard a knock on my door, "Daniel?"
I went and unlocked the door.
Hello, I signed.
Phil just wrapped his arms around me, and lightly squeezed me. I did the same thing after I finished signing 'hello.' We gently swung a little, left, right, left, right. We stayed there for a while, I think I started crying.
"Hey, you okay?"
I shrugged.
He put his hands on my shoulders and pushed me away to look at me. He wiped the tears off my face.
"It's okay."
That was it. I bursted out sobbing. I covered my face and slumped down onto the floor. Phil shut the door, and knelt down beside me. I stiffled in a breath and sighed.
"Better?"
I nodded.

This means 'piano', I wrote, then waving my hands.
Phil tried to copy my hands, humming to himself everytime he moved his hands.
I smiled, silently laughing.
This how you sign my name, I wrote, then carefully signing my name.
Phillip tried and tried but he just couldn't get it.
"I'm pretty bad at this," he laughed.
I shook my head, and stuffled, "...hA"
I covered my mouth and looked at Phil.
"Woah, did you just?"
I nodded frantically.
I actually made a sound. I tried again.
"..i.. Phi.. Phi-l.."
"Yes!" he was estatic.
I tried again but nothing came out. I smiled and shrugged. That gives me a tiny chance to speak again.

Phil had to go to work, and left me to fill the rest of my day. I headed towards my piano. I sat and played for a while. From Ingenuine, to Over the Rainbow, I must've played for hours, because I only stopped when I heard knocking at my door. I looked through the peephole of the door, to see it was Phil. I gladly opened the door.
Hello!
"Hey," his voice was husky, he must've been yelling at his job.
He was wearing a white, longsleeve button up, and a jacket was slung over his shoulder. I snatched up my pen and paper.
What's goin' on? You can tell me.
"My boss," he huffed and shook his head, "he's just a jackass. We ended up arguing with each other and ugh I don't want to go back there tomorrow."
Need a hug?
He nodded, and I wrapped my arms around him. God, was he muscular. We stood there a while, neither of us wanting it to end. I rested my head in the crook of his neck. It didn't seem to bother him, so I stayed there. We eventually let go of each other.
"Do you wanna go to the fair?" he asked me.
I shrugged but then signed, Yes, to test him.
"Ok, let me get some better clothes on, erm, just not work clothes. Haha."

A couple minutes later, we left for the fair.