escape | ethan dolan

lies & confessions • 5

By the time I wake up it's almost dark out. I didn't think I fell asleep, but the color of the sky and my severe bed head tell me otherwise. At least I won't have nightmares, I think. I know I won't be getting anymore sleep for the rest of the night.

I'm at a loss of what to do, so I sit up in bed for a few minutes without contemplating anything. My gut tells me to go explore, but my head tells me to stay. As my usual idiotic self, I decide to listen to my gut.

Through the dark, I tip-toe out the bedroom door and back down the hallway. This time I actually get to the end and I'm able to see the living area and kitchen. In between them is a spiral staircase leading to an upper part of the house. Everything is so modern! The kitchen is stocked with marble counters and probably the most high end refrigerator and microwave I've ever seen. The living room has a long leather couch and a gigantic television which mocks the size of a theater screen. It takes a few moments before I realize my mouth is wide open in shock. I feel like I'm in paradise!

I make my way across the tan carpet and onto the tile floor in the kitchen. The little squares alternate black and white and it makes me think of an old-fashion fifty's diner. As I make my way deeper into the kitchen, I begin to hear the faint sound of music coming from outside.

At the other side of the kitchen is a glass sliding door. I step over to it, cup my hands around my face, and look out. To my surprise, Grayson is sitting out on the wooden deck, bopping his head to the music. I can't tell what the song is, even though it's louder now and I can make out the lyrics. Out of the little courage I have left, I slide the door open and step out onto the porch.

"Hey," I greet. I don't think he can hear me though, because he doesn't acknowledge my presence, whatsoever. Or maybe he's just being rude. I'm not sure what to do at this point, so I just stand there nervously, waiting for something to happen. I hear him humming lowly to the rhythm of the music. I wouldn't expect him to be the singing type, but my life has been full of surprises lately, so I don't know what to think anymore. His fingers tap to the song, and I watch his eyes scan out past the yard, looking into the woods. Grayson looks as though he's searching for something, but I'm not sure what. Unexpectedly, his focus turns to me. I can tell he's startled by the unexpected company, because he jumps in his seat, his eyes wide with shock. He grabs a remote and clicks a button which shuts off the music instantly.

"What are you doing out here?" My eyes wander, desperately seeking for an answer to just appear out of thin air.

"I, um, heard your music."

"And?"

"And I wanted to come out and listen." I respond, crossing my arms over my chest. Grayson gives me a weird look. "What?"

"You listen to Kid Cudi?" He raises an eyebrow. I have absolutely no idea who he's talking about.

"Uh," I'm not sure if I should lie or tell him the truth. I've already made up so many fibs- "Yes! I love them!" Alright, lying it is I guess...

"I didn't know you listened to him. What's your favorite song?"

"Oh, how can you pick? They're all so amazing," I smile with my hands on my hips. Thankfully, he seems to believe me this time. He motions me over and hesitantly, I scooch toward Grayson and place myself beside him. Not too close, just enough so it's not awkwardly far. His arm rests on the top of the bench and his other hand brushes through his short hair. He doesn't seem to notice my discomfort, which I'm ever so grateful for.

"When did you start listening to him?' Grayson asks, still looking out at the woods, his brows furrowed. He seems to really be concentrating on something.