Bubblegum Serenade

It Gets Dark, It Just Makes Sense

Eevee washed her hands, citrus-flavored soap and made a bubble shape with her hands, then watched it all go down the drain.

She was done cleaning, the boxes were still unopened and lined up in one corner of the room. It was big enough for two, despite her request for a single room. She didn't complain, though, the space was nice and the ground to ceiling windows stunned her into silence. Opening the fridge, the inner light flickered open, revealing empty drawers.

Oh shit, she said aloud.

She was so used to fridges being stacked with meat, vegetables, fruits, and candy that she forgot it didn't do it on its own. Fridges kept food in a cool weather, not fill itself up with her favorite treats. She was thirsty, and she still hadn't done grocery, hence no water. Throwing a sweater over her peach top and grey sweatpants, she shut room 555 behind her.

The squash of her flip flops were the only sound against the tiles of the building. She walked slowly, and as she neared the reception hall, she heard a loud wheezing sound. She froze, back against a wall, and peered over the wall.

Sounds of laughter skittered around, like mice on a hunt for cheese, and the sound of something dropping on the floor, only for more wheezing and choking sounds to emerge.

Fools, Eevee swore, drunken fools.

They won't notice her going for the water dispenser if they're that drunk. So she emerged from her hiding spot, no need for stealth.

She spotted a cabinet full of mugs and grabbed the nearest one, changed her mind, then picked one further back. Standing by the water dispenser, she pressed the flower-shaped mug against the warm then the cold buttons, shuffling between both temperatures.

Someone knocked her over, and she gaped as she clutched the mug, catching just before it plummeted to the ground. The water landed on her feet and she made a face. Wet socks, ew!

Eevee was about to sidekick the asshole, when she recognized that face. A long face with greenish eyes, sheepish smile, and a tattoo of a lollipop on the side of his neck, almost concealed by his shoulder-length hair.

"Jeralt?" She muttered.

But the idiot was too drunk to even acknowledge her, and bumped into the lip of the counter.

"Yo! Mac! I just saw a ghost." He said, faking a shiver.

"That's rude," a voice replied.

"Hi, this is the ghost." She waved.

Pill-shaped speakers filled the room with a slow beat. She squinted in the dark, neon lights (from vending machine) was the only light in the dark.

"How many people are there?" She said to no one in particular.

"Only me and Jeralt." The same soft voice replied. "Oh, sorry, over here." He waved a hand out.

She spotted it, pink fingers coming from the light emitted from the cosmetics vending machine, next to it blue lights selling snacks and beverages, then a purple one selling hygiene stuff.

She walked to its direction.

In the neon lights, she saw his long nose and sharp jawline, and his big eyes that met hers. It looked distracted, so unlike the set of eyes that beheld her just a day before. There was no warmth or on the house kindness.

Those eyes widened a bit, registering a memory.

"Oh, it's you." He said in way of greeting.

"Likewise," she took the seat in front of her, the cushion making a weird sound as she sat. "I was gonna pay you back for the water."