Music Dude

A crisis

It is Samuel's day off. This man needs a break...

Ah, but he is getting it as he sleeps in till 10 in the morning. These are wonderful hours for Mr. Halls, but as for music dude, these are times of great survival. Dude's been awake since 5 and he hungers for a decent meal. Luckily for him, Samuel has Saran wrapped a plate of leftovers and left it in the fridge. He told him this last night.

"I do not intend to wake up early tomorrow, Nathan!"

He told him this too.

So, with leftovers in the fridge, how are these times of great survival like I previously mentioned? Well, as I've also said, the dude still hungers for a decent meal. The fool has not left his man cave. Here, he takes a deep inhale then a deep exhale before standing up from his futon to climb up the stairs. He already did so earlier, to go pee, but instinctively went straight back downstairs before realizing he had tricked himself. There was no food at his little table.

Right now it's 7 am.

He turns the knob on the door and peeks his head out. The hallway and its light brown wooden floors are illuminated by the open curtains and sunshine that swim through and about the entirety of the house. He goes straight to the kitchen, slowly walking about as if he's going to be jumped at any corner. He then peers his head again to check on the kitchen. The kitchen's beautiful marble top shined warmly from the light that came through the thin yellow fabric of the kitchen curtain. It seemed as if yellow was Samuel's favorite color,  for many things around the house that would catch the light were yellow. He looked down at the sleeve of his sweater.

His mind flashed back to when Samuel first clothed him with fresh clean clothes, getting him out of his torn and awfully smelling coat that he wore homeless. The generous man lent him his oversized and overly soft (if you ask me) sweater, along with some pajama pants. The sweater was a nice yellow.

He snapped back to reality, staring at the yellow sleeve.

Yes, he still had it. He was sure this was Samuel's favorite sweater too, but now it was his favorite. He wouldn't stop wearing it for the first week that Samuel's started nicknaming him Woodstock. He didn't understand what wood had to with it. 

He went further into the kitchen, sliding his hand on the marble counter as he passed it. He opened the fridge.

Ah yes, dinner.

He took a double take.

Breakfast...

He didn't bother microwaving the stuffing and ribs, a practice that baffled Samuel.

"How can you not heat up meat...?" He would ask him with genuine worry in his eyes.

But right now he remains asleep, and this dude is left at peace. Standing in peace. Eating and standing in peace...

He decides to sit down on the stool. This would be more to Samuel's liking, he thought, though he always refers to him as "Mr. Sam." A couple of munches later, a drop falls from the ribs, landing on the perfectly bright and gorgeous yellow sweater. He gasped so hard he choked. After downing some water and recovering from such embarrassment he goes over to turn on the faucet. The water runs hard as he hesitates to soak his sweater. This is a bad idea, he realizes.

What a dumbass...

He sees the paper towels to the side, snatches a piece, and puts it in the water and gently, ever so gently, more gently than he cleans his precious, precious guitars, he smudges the stain making it far worse than before. He panics. He looks down the hallway. Past the guest bedroom, past his door, past the bathroom, at the very end of the hall was Samuel's door. He wanted to run down, but the hallway still irked him. He looked at the time, 7:56, it is nowhere near ten.

His heart beats wildly at the thought of disturbing his sleep during his day off. It made him feel ungrateful. He looks down at the stain, staring long and hard. The gears turn in his head before he concludes to wake him.

Cue dramatic cliffhanger music.

Author's Note:
Snap back to reality bam there goes gravity la dee dah da dee da da dee da,,,,heh..hehheh