A Different Time

One

DAN'S POV
I've been sleeping on my living room couch for months. I had a dream that I was strapped to my ceiling and there were people chucking knives at me and scoring themselves. One hit my throat. One got the soft under-bit of my forearm. And one got me just beside my heart.
I haven't slept in there since.

I slowly open my eyes. My legs are sprawled our along the edge of the couch, one foot is just past the armrest and my other leg is tucked in beside me. I'm basically in a half-fetal position. My face is squished against the couch. My arm is tucked under the back cushion.
I lift my face off the couch with a painful tearing sound. Right. Leather.
I slowly ease myself into a sitting position, cracking my back in my failed attempt at not hurting myself. Why am I always getting injured? I had glass shatter all over me the other day and I was fine but now I can't sit up without breaking my spine in three places...?
"Ah fuck..." I rub my lower back.
I touch my hand to my face and I wince. It stings. I'm almost positive it took a layer of skin. Or I'm just a wimp.
—
I hop out of the shower, steam coming from my shoulders. I grab the towel from the rack and I pause. I look at myself in the mirror. The scar, across my chest. It's rather faint now, getting lighter as I grow older. It runs from my collarbone across to my opposite hip, skipping a few inches in spots.
I still don't remember where I got it from... How?
I quickly blink myself out of my own thoughts and I wrap my lower half in the towel. My mum bought me these. I've never really been a fan of green, but these are extremely nice, given that they're towels.

I walk out into the hallway, drying my hair with another towel, and make my way into my bedroom, where I whip off my towel and shake my hips in a little dance. I immediately regret this as I look up to see my window open.
I just wiggled my dick around. With the window open.
In front of my whole neighborhood.
Well, okay, not the whole neighborhood. My bedroom window looks out over an open field.
But a bird probably saw.

I shimmy myself into some underwear and sweatpants.
Note to self: stop dancing with your dick out.

...OTHER note to self:
I should probably start listening to all my mental notes. Cus drinking coffee naked is a bad idea too but I keep doing that. And having a bath when I'm really tired, cus I'm sick of drying my socks and underwear because I'm sleepy.

........
Note to self: I need to stop making these notes.

I think it's time for coffee.
—
I spin my key ring on my finger and I toss them in the air, to catch them again. I feel good today.
I get in my car and I start driving.
—
Finally, after a whopping 11 and a half minutes, I pull into the car lot by the shops. I slide out of my seat and into the world.
I click my keypad and I hear my car beep. Locked.
I shove my keys into my back pocket with my wallet.
—
"Hey, Dan! Morning." Kyle says, bumping shoulders with me just as I walk up to the coffee shop.
"Hey, my dude." I reply. "It's weird seeing you out and about so early."
Kyle looks at me like I've got a bird glued to my face.
"Have I got six heads, mate?" I ask, a little bit weirded out.
"Dan, I've... I've always come to have coffee with you in the mornings." He says.
"What? S... Since when?"
"...since we met...? You know, ten years ago...?"
"I... Im... Are you sure?"
He chuckles.
"Well I'm as sure about that as I am about my name."
I decide to mess with him some more.
I'm an awful friend.
"And... what's your name again...? Do I know you?"
He rolls his eyes and he giggles.
"Kyle."
"Ah right."
"HI WELCOME TO CHILI'S" He suddenly screams, jumping on my back and wrapping his legs around my hips.
"KYLE YOU'RE GETTING A BIT TOO OLD FOR THIS ARENT YOU?!"
"NOOOOO!"
"GET OFF YOU TALL SKINNY BASTARD!"
I wiggle him off me and I turn around to see an offended Kyle.
"Don't you dare call me skinny again. I am a thick bitch and I am ROCKING these curves!"
He prances away from me, a hand on his hip, swaying himself from side to side.
"SKINNY WHITE GUY COMING THROUGH!" I shout after him.
"I AM A STRONG AND INDEPENDENT BLACK WOMAN! MAKE WAY, BITCHES!" He flicks his wrist at some random man walking down the street and I smile apologetically at him as I jog into the cafe after my best friend.
I put my hand on his shoulder.
"Kyle, you just frightened an innocent old guy..." I whisper.
He looks me dead in the eyes.
"Can't be tamed, bitch. Two sugars, three creams, and a little plate of those waffle things." And he walks away and sits at a table in the back.
Stuck with the orders again. Thanks Kyle.

"Morning, Smith." The shopkeep, Mr. Gerard, says with a smile.
"Morning Gerry." I say with a sigh.
He rolls his eyes.
"He did the thing again, didn't he?"
I lean in.
"Yeah. Is there any way for you to spritz my coffee with liquor or something?"
He chuckles.
"No liquor here, lad. Ask me again when I'm not working."
"Damn it." I chuckle and flop my fist down on the countertop, spotting a jar of candies.
I reach in and I put a quarter on the counter, along with the rest of the cash for our 'breakfast'. I stuff the little candy into my pocket and I take the tray to the table where Kyle waits.

"YAAAAS, give me my shit, slave." He demands, holding his hands out.
"Here you go, your majesty. Your coffee, two sugars, three creams. And your massive plate of mini waffles and strawberry wafer biscuits." I plop them down and sit on my side, taking a big gulp of my own coffee, grabbing up a few wafers in my hand and eating them.

"Hey Kyle?" I ask.
"Meah?" He responds, looking up at me and speaking through the mush of food in his mouth.
"I think that today is—"
"Gonna be a good day." He finishes.
I stare at him with my eyes wide.
"How dare you assume that I would say such a thing! The audacity!"
He looks at me.
"Is that what you were going to say?" He asks, unenthused.
I nod with a grin.
"Yup!"
"Fluck you Lan," He says, bits of chewed up waffle flying onto my face.
I shudder, wiping a piece off my cheek, watching in horror as a strand of spit follows it.
"I got that one extra yucky, just for you, my love..." He chuckled at me, while I horrifiedly clean my face.
"I fucking hate you, Kyle."
"I'm gross and proud!" He blows me a kiss.
I roll my eyes.

Typical Kyle.