Sunshiny Things (Original)

Ch. 20 Trouble In Paradise

Freya

Here comes the sun. Here comes the sun, and I say it's alright. The words from the Beatles fill my ears as I lay flat on my back on the island counter top staring up at the kitchen ceiling above. For the past hour this is what I've been doing. Catching up on what Cole says is the worlds greatest hits in rock musics history. And I'm sad to say that from what I've heard so far, he may just be right. I still of course love my music as well. But with the voice of the lead singer of the Beatles and Led zeppelin, I'm defiantly starting to become more open minded with my music taste. This song in particular as quickly grown to be one of my favorites out of all the ones I've listened to so far. Here Comes the Sun by The Beatles.

My head slowly tips side to side with the music causing my hair to brush against the marble, while the foot of my bent leg on the counter is tapping along with the rhythm. That's one thing I love about this song the beat is amazingly structured and as well as the words. I move my pointer finger to the side of my phone to hold down the top volume bottom to enhance the sound of the song even more, but my finger automatically hovers above it once a banging knocks fills my ears in the background over the song. I instantly shoot up from there counter in shock. I let one of the white ear puds fall out of my ear as I sit up straight and stare at the front door with my fuzzy sock covered feet placed on the wooden barstool bellow. The door knob on the door slowly starts to turn, and I mentally cuss myself out for forgetting to lock the door again. But when the door finally and fully descends open, my eyes grow wide up it's not too long until my expression turns into confusion and concern.

"Oh my gosh, what happened?" I quickly hop off from the counter and rush over to the door entrance, sidling a little in the process due to my fuzzy socks on the smooth concrete.

"Don't you ever lock your door?" an obviously grumpy Cole asks before walking into my apartment uninvited, like always, but clearly with good intentions this time. Around his broad shoulders rests Becca's slim tattooed covered arm and under Becca's legs are placed in Coles arms carrying her bridal style. I roll my eyes ignoring Coles comment, even though he's right, before shutting the front door and following Cole into the living room where he now sets down Becca on the couch.

"Is she okay—," but before I could ask anymore questions to Cole i'm interrupted by a loud screeching drunk voice saying, "Frey!" I look down at Becca on the couch who now has her arms thrown up in the air awaiting my hug that she's wanting with a smile on her face. Even though her mouth is only open a little bit, I can still smell the pungent Vodka smell radiating from it. Instead of giving the hug to Becca that she's wanting, I place my hands on my hips an glare down at her with angry eyes. Becca frowns and drops her arms down with a little pout.

"Why won't you hug me?" Becca whines and I can see the drunk tears start to form in the corners of her brown eyes. Becca always gets like this when she's drunk. She gets really happy, then really sad, then really playful, then really mad. Not always in that particular order. But most of the time, that's the way it goes.

"Is she seriously about to cry?" Cole asks, and I roll my eyes again.

"Why can't you just love me?" Becca then beings sobbing but with tiny hiccups added from the alcohol. I can't help the smile that appears on my face as I look down at her state and listen to her ridiculous words. She looks up at me with teary eyes, and obviously notices my smile and her look goes dark.

"I knew you never loved me!" Becca now screams which only makes me now giggle slightly. Becca huffs and crosses her arms like a little kid in time out.

"Ouch," I hear Cole mumble from beside me. "Trouble in paradise." I look over at him with a glare and he looks down at Becca giving out a deep, tiny chuckle.