Brian was scared of bees. In fact, scared doesn't even cover his phobia of them. He was petrified of bees. Even during the hottest days of the year, he would lock his doors and windows to prevent the bees from getting inside his house. He would sometimes not go outside at all. He would jump at the sound of a vibrating phone, grimace at the sight of honey in the aisles of supermarkets. He even had nightmares about them.
Brian has had a rough past experience with bees. He was around 7 when he was stung for the first time; his body started to rash all over; ironically hives formed on his skin. After several more encounters with bees, Brian was beyond terrified. He wondered what would happen the next time he got stung. Would he die by bee sting? Could he die by bee sting? He would usually shake his head at these irrational thoughts.
One day, Zacky took him to Wal-mart, as Brian was lacking both food and drink in his fridge. So Zacky had to drag Brian out of the house and into the car. Zacky left the windows of his car wide open. Of course, Brian flinched. He squeamed. He begged Zacky to close them, but of course, Zacky, being Zacky, refused. So he sat there, in a strop, arms tightly crossed; hair rustling in the breeze as Zacky speeded down the roads of Orange County.
As soon as Zacky stopped the engine, Brian sprinted into the store. He was relieved to run through the automatic doors and stand in a very air-conditioned shopping complex. Once, Zacky caught up with him, Zacky grinned. It's so good to see him outdoors. It's so good to seem him when he's not isolating himself from others.
Zacky pushed the trolley down the aisles, Brian chuckled to himself as Zacky pushed himself and rested his legs in thin air as the trolley glided across the glossy floor.
"Ah. Just what I needed. Honey."
Zacky grinned, holding a jar of pure honey. Brian felt nervous. He turned around and walked to the adjacent aisle, stomping his feet so Zacky could hear his anger.
Brian slowly paced up and down the cosmetics aisle, sighing over whether Zacky's actions were intentional or not. He stopped. Burt's Bees Lip Balm. Burt's Bees Hand Cream. Burt's Bees everything. Brian stood in front of his own personal hell. Reading the word 'bee' would make him cringe. He ran to Zacky, who was already at the self checkout.
"We need to get out of here. Straight away. Please."
Zacky nodded, carrying his bags back to the car. The ride back was silent. The windows were shut. The only noise heard was Brian clearing his throat every few minutes, he cleared his throat a grand total of 8 times during that journey.
Zacky sat on Brian's sofa. Brian sat on his bed, playing guitar, trying to come up with some complex and unimaginable riff, the usual. He sees a white piece of paper slipped under his door, a knock swiftly followed. He grabs it and smiles to himself.
- Bee Happy -
