Doomed To Love

Settling In.

You look around the room as you enter the apartment, with a sense of curiosity. Most things were the same way they were years ago. The kitchen to your left, a mess of dirty dishes, old pizza boxes, and chinese food boxes left unattended. Smuppets strewn about, some decapitated, others with cuts, their innards poofing out in a dramatic show. Throwing stars stuck in cupboards, and scrapes in the tops of the counters. For the most part, it wasn't too bad. Nothing that made your stomach flip on it's head acrobatically. No sticky weird substances or dried on gunk, which was surprising. 

To the right was the living room, or more accurately, Bro's room. His futon was the same, now put up into a couch like position. More smuppets, of course. The only difference was now there seemed to be more sound equipment and cameras set up than before. Seems Bro has been working on upgrading his collection. Speaking of Bro, he leaps over the back of the futon, and lands gracefully on the couch, leaning forward without hesitation to grab the TV remote. His feet kick up onto the coffee table, pushing aside some empty ( and half full ) cups in the process, as he leans back into the couch. He seemed to have found some sort of candy bar, which was clamped between his lips. You roll your eyes, and take yourself on the tour, heading to the door of his room. You exit into the hallway.

It was a bit cramped, but mostly empty. A few puppets hung here and there, all which made you uncomfortable, but you assumed you might as well get use to them. You would definitely see a lot of them in your time here. You open the first door to your right, the bathroom. It was still as small and cramped as you remember. The shower was small, but big enough that someone could sit in it, rather comfortably, if they kept their legs to their crossed, or bent up. You crack a small smile. It would definitely take a lot of getting use to, from the difference of your big house. 

You keep walking, and make it to Dave's door. You let yourself in and look around the room. His turntables were different, which was the first thing you notice. These ones were bigger, more impressive. His computer was also upgraded from a small laptop to a full on gaming computer. His bed though, was the only thing that remained the same. Still a mattress, on it's frame, held up by cinder blocks.  You walked into his room, and feel drawn to his open window. You look out, at the bustling city. You had to be at least twenty stories up! A few crows pass by, like little black specs on the reddened sky. You can't see the setting sun, due to the other buildings that blocked your view, which was disappointing to say the least. Your elbow rests on the window sill, hand pressed against your cheek, supporting your head. A small gust passes by, the soft sound that usually follows completely drowned out by the sounds of city life.

"Don't worry dude, I got it." Your head lifts from its perch as you turn to face your friend, giving a small sheepish smile.

"Ah, sorry Dave. I was gonna meet you at the top of the stairs, but I got distracted. Is that all of them?"

"Yeah, I got them all, no thanks to you." He gives a huff and you can't help but just chuckle. 

"Hey, I'm your guest here. Hospitality and all that!" You snark back, putting your hands on your hips to accentuate your sarcastic quip.

"Yeah, the whole guest thing is usually a night or two, not a whole year. Besides, if you are expecting a calming bed and board here, you might want to go back to the drawing board on that one."

"Well, at least I'll get a year of bro time! Right!?"

Dave snorts, "Yeah, something like that. Now lets get your shit all sorted, you dweeb." Dave pats your bags and you just snort.

> John: Unpack your bags and settle in

Yes. You do just that. Before you know it, the sun is starting to set on your first day. You have been throughly stuffed with pizza and enjoyed countless hours of gaming, after your bags were sorted, of course. Dave makes you a bed on the floor out of spare blankets and pillows, which surprisingly enough, they had a surplus of.

But, still. You find yourself too uncomfortable by all the wires Dave had running over the floor. Uncomfortable by sleeping in a house you were not accustomed to. Uncomfortable by the fact that your own father was thousands of miles away. You find yourself tossing and turning for hours, unable to keep your eyes closed for long.

Finally, you sit up, with a long heavy huff of frustration. Dave was already long asleep, as you could tell by his rather heavy breathing that broke the silence. You sigh and rub your face, before grabbing your glasses that you tenderly laid next to your makeshift bed. You don them, and kick off the sheet over you. You know what will help, warm milk! At least. It did when you were a child.

You climb up to your feet and carefully exit the room, closing the door tenderly to not wake Dave. Though as you look down the hall towards the kitchen, you see a door looking very much closed. Not as inviting to your late night needs as you assumed it would be.

You still walk over, very carefully. For some reason you feel more nervous than ever. You feel as though you are breaking some unspoken rule. A closed door is always nerve-wracking when it is not your own house, but to make matters worse, this was a door that lead into what was technically Bro's room. You doubt he took well to intruders.

You put your ear to the door, to try to listen for, well, really anything. You hear the faint sounds of his TV, but nothing else. You still stay like that, for what seems like far too long. Before you are satisfied enough with the lack of shuffling or noise. You stare down at the doorknob. Suddenly the most terrifying doorknob you have ever gazed upon.

Jeez John!! Look at all these theatrics!! You could have already had your milk and be tucked up in bed again. You are acting ridiculous.

You can't help but agree with that thought. You take a deep inhale and hold it, slowly turning the knob and opening the door.

You don't see much at first, the only light illuminating from the tv. From the small initial crack, you can see his computer desk. Empty and abandoned. You swing the door open, with a bit more bravery, to see the rest of the room.

Your eyes lock on him. His futon now pulled down to make a full bed, him sprawled across it. An arm under his head, which was lacking his hat. His bare chest, which you don't look at for long, due to his head suddenly moving. Shades still on, he shifts to tilt his gaze to you.

"What do you want?" His voice was deeper, probably from slumber's grasp taking over. He looked even more terrifying, outlined by the TV light. You freeze in the doorway.