playing with the air // m.h.

change of pressure // part one

change in pressure // pt one

I didn't exactly have a plan once I got out the window, just to leave the venue all together that night. I flip my phone to face me, illuminating itself. 12:38a.m. I had until one before Asher would get upset, so what pit stop would I decide on?

            I smile to myself before looking up at the small neon sign in front of me, lamely saying loft with no proper punctuation, and started to pull myself up the stairs that started in a sketchy alleyway. Shortly a sticker-covered door greets me where I knock twice then once more. Before my knuckles hit the door the third time I hear the rustle of footsteps.

            "Beau, Beau, Beau," I chant in my sing-song voice, one that I know gives him the chills. Within moments the door is opened for me, the warmth inviting me in already.

            "Y'know, I'd adore to see you just once where you don't try to get me to piss myself first," He stands a bit back, yawning and stretching back. He had obviously been relaxing, clad in literally only grey sweats that hung so low it was extremely inappropriate to even look at the waist line.

            "And I'd love to see you in some clothing, c'mon now, Jesus is watching, Beau," I remark, pointing a single finger up and down him, slowing at the tattoos that cover his chest. He ruffles his shaggy black hair, stepping away from the frame to let me in. Once inside, I head towards the red couch, flopping down on it. Beau disappears behind a doorway, tugging on a black hoodie as he stumbles back out. I internalize my unf, just barely though.

            "To what do I owe this honor?" he sits beside me, immediately lounging back.

            "In the area," I say casually as I peel out of jacket again, setting it beside my backpack on the floor.

            "Visiting the boyfriend at work again?" I detect a very, very small amount of jealousy.

            "You know things with Asher aren't like that," I roll my eyes, pulling a cigarette out and lighting it.

            "Who said I was talking about Sunshine?" I smile at Beau's nickname for Asher, while he tries to poke fun at Ash's hair, he actually thinks its super cool. "Isn't there that stagehand that goes all puppy eyes for you?"

            "As if," I scoff, "Do you want to smoke or are we going to play imagines about my nonexistent love life all night?" He raises his hands in defeat before pulling out a blunt from his sweat pocket.

            "Lets do it, love"

It winds up running me an hour, and after several missed calls from Ash, I'm walking out of loft, a spliff tucked behind one ear as my hair cascades down to cover it and my bag slung over my back again.

            "You good to get home?" Beau's leaning against the doorway, quiet rock music playing from the room I had just exited, some tune about chocolate that I feel like I've heard before.

            "When haven't I been able to care for myself?" I shoot him a sassy glare.

            "Alright then, miss independent, I left you a few party favors in your bag," He winks, "for your company."

            I grin up at him and give a quick side hug before bouncing down the stairs and towards my flat. 2:06. My pace quickens, Ash was probably waiting up knowing him.

            While walking my thoughts wander, back through the day. Did I have an interest in Beau? No, I just thought he was hot; even I can't tolerate his personality for too long. But what was that comment regarding River? I barely know the boy, let alone have given him time to develop interest in me. I guess the only person who I can understand there being rumors about is Asher, but once you actually saw us together enough you'd see we're too much like siblings. A breeze hit me harshly as I grit my teeth to beat the shivers trying to course through my body. I keep walking in the shadows, despite there being streetlights. I feel so calm when it's like this, few people out, dark, and quiet. It's kind of comical how Beau calls Asher "Sunshine", but very accurate. Ash was the more outgoing of the two of us, openly alpha in any interaction until he comes near me, which is good because if he tried to be dominant in our friendship there wouldn't be one. Despite being elusive, I'm known to be quite assertive and stubborn. Scorpios, right? Ash wasn't like that though, he just knew how to be a leader and why waste such a talent? I remember back for my past birthday he put together a party, red cup affair and everything. Of course I didn't know half the people there, and it was a bit odd to have a few people come up to me and discuss the rumors of "the girl with half hair and bear tattoo"—I like to believe Beau is a bit facetious in his stories of me—though some do carry truth, like the time I broke into the aquarium to spend the night, or hid on a stage balcony at the Globe Theatre for an entire show, or held a penguin at the London Zoo (much to the dismay of staff mind you). Though I've never gotten really caught, as if finding a girl with half blond, half black hair was that hard? I look like the 90's teen version of Cruella DeVil for fucks sake. The entire affair was a total hit though, Ash made sure to perfect it. He even went as far as to pick an outfit for me; the wrap style, velvet dress in a deep jewel color matched with simple black heels that stayed on for less than an hour. I remember how nice the plunge of the deep blue looked against my skin though, how soft the dress was, and how silly the cardboard party hat looked on top of my head. We spent the night sipping on whatever drink was concocted for us by girl with bright red hair and belting out the lyrics to total "emo" songs that could literally only be chosen by Asher. I remember that wasn't even the only gift he got me: a pure black polaroid camera, one of the new mini versions; I also remember the first photo ever taken on it was me on the floor, looking like the happiest hot mess in that place. Now you can't rely on your phone for all your memories. I use that damned thing all the time still, keeping my favorite photos tucked in my case's interior pocket, one being of Ash and I (no clue who took it) sitting on a fire escape pulling our typical positions, probably chatting about something we thought was news.

            Hold the fuck up...

            Where's my fucking guitar case?!

            I let out a loud groan, pressing my back up against a brick wall and gripping my hair. I'm only a block from the flat, if its at Beau's, is it worth turning back right now? I look around me to the totally empty street and shake my head for no one but myself. No, it'll just wind up being easier to send him a text tomorrow; he may even drop it off for me. I roll myself off the wall, done with my temporary fit and trudge myself the remaining way to my apartment door. 2:21. Fuck me, right? I reach the old fashioned door labeled with a 6, after making my way up two flights of elaborately ordained stairs, I wrapped my hand slowly around the golden handle. I breath in once more, fondly admiring the crudely drawn nine next to our apartment's label, before walking into a potential scolding.

            "Ashy?" I half whisper as I slowly open the creaking door into our half messy flat. All the lights were off, had he gone to bed? Or was he about to pull the classic "turns-on-a-lamp-as-you-try-to-sneak-away-into-your-bedroom"?

            It was the later.

            I felt myself jump at the click and sudden illumination, if there was anything I hated most in the world it was sudden intrusion of light; shadows, remember?

            "If you have a cat in your lap, I will simply flip my shit," I say with a snarky tone as I turn to the corner of which my very parental best friend sat.

            "Because that's great for an allergy," he scrunches his nose, sat with his hands clasped together in front of his face and legs crossed however, "What even happened to you? The show literally ended at midnight. Don't tell me you became a groupie, I know I said check them out, but I didn't mean check them—"

            "I stopped by loft," I pulled my hair up and flashed him the spliff tucked on my ear. His mouth formed into a realizing "o" shape, before motioning for me to sit on the arm of our lounge chair beside him. I set down my backpack and perch myself next to him, waiting for his classic black lighter with an outstretched hand. "Though I managed to leave my case over there," I rolled my eyes, lighting the blunt before taking a small hit. "Which I take no fault for actually, do you know how hard it is to keep yourself together when Beau prances around with his pants hung that low?"

            "Were they grey? I hear you can see the outline of everything in his grey ones," Ash chuckles, plucking the burning herb from my hand and taking his own hit.

            "He says, acting like he's never worn something to promote his assets before." My god Ash was such a ladies man, back when we'd go out every other night I swear I met half of the female London population, with unkempt hair and oozing shame, as they tried to sneak out of the apartment. I offered them cereal sometimes, to which they never took up. "Oh I did get into a little mishap at the venue," I slightly mumble, cringing at the memory. I knew they'd probably never bring it up to him, but I felt guilty hiding something from Ash that occurred at his place of employment.

            "Yeah? Didya get caught, or were you only playing about?"

            "I had to jump down from the second tier," I wince again, this time realizing the dull pain in my right ankle.

            "Why the hell did you decide on that?"

            "I was being chased." He coughed roughly. "The band's security didn't recognize me, so I had to be a bit slippery."

            "How'd you get out then? Downstairs always has double amounts of those bright vests."

            "That's where the funny part comes in, so I'm running right," my smile broadens, Ash loves stories of my grand escapes, and I love sounding cooler than I am, "So I jump into a room, absolutely no fucking clue where I am, turns out I'm booking some VIP's and meeting the band," he lets out a laugh at this comment, "I think I even got a contact high from how much smoke was in there, do you think Sam will be jealous?" I theatrically cover my mouth with a hand, gasping, "But I don't know how well we got on, I wound up jumping out their bathroom window."

            "Did you even introduce yourself?"

            "Nope." I make a popping noise with the "p". He laughs loudly again.

            "You think I'll get a venue complaint about an elf sized girl breaking into a fitting room and interrupting an intense smoke sesh?"

            "I'd suggest an insanity plead."