Take Pity On The Opening Band - Week[e]man Oneshots

Some (Lighthearted) Ghosting

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Dallon never expected he'd stumble across someone just as weird as he is.

Brobecks Era

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Is it original? Hell no. In fact, this radiates the same energy as "I found a rock!" from the Halloween themed Charlie Brown film.

But it simply seemed like too great a opportunity to pass up.

"This is stupid," his roommate, Breezy grumbles. She clicks through the options on her camera before inserting a new SD card. "Can't believe you made me go out to get more storage just for—"

"You're stupid," Dallon huffs back. He fiddles with the sheet before him before sliding it over his head so his eyes match the holes he cut out. "Can you get my goggles?"

He'd been expecting Breezy to be the polite young lady she is and hand them to him. Instead, she snatches them up, rears her arm back, and pelts him, direct hit to the small of his back. He hisses a curse.

"Gee, thanks."

"Anytime!"

Dallon collects the oversized black goggles off the floor and straps them on over his eyes, pacing to the mirror by the front door of the apartment and gazing at his appearance.

Yep. Charlie Brown bed sheet ghost energy acquired.

Breezy appears by his side. "Well, you ready?"

Dallon nods, raising his arms and watching as the sheet follows.

"Let's do some lighthearted ghosting."

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Dallon stands in the middle of a cross walk as Breezy snaps his picture.

The people passing by chuckle or grin as they step around him. One person even asked to get a picture with him, which he happily agreed to. A small child walking hand in hand with her mother squealed in delight upon seeing Dallon and proceeded to hug what was exposed of his leg. Dallon has chuckled, then passed her a grape flavored lollipop before waving goodbye to both her and her mother.

It's bliss, strolling the streets with a sheet over his head, floating and drifting around like a ghost who died a little too early. The sheet billows behind him with each step, each wave of his arm. He imagines being light enough to be carried by the wind. He imagines the stress-free life of the dead, watching the world before them knowing none of it's vices can effect them. Carefree. Obsolete, but all knowing.

How abnormally gorgeous it is.

"This may not have been a terrible idea after all," Breezy says, flicking through her camera, showing Dallon the screen. "We've gotten some good pictures today!"

Dallon adjusts his goggles and nods. "It was more fun than I thought it would be. Can't wait to continue tomorrow."

Breezy rounds on him. "We're doing this again?"

"I don't see why not. It was kinda a hit. Didn't you enjoy watching me act a fool under a bed sheet?"

Breezy rolls her eyes. "The things I do for you, Dallon."

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They're back at it again. This time, to the tune of David Bowie as Dallon prances about to the music from Breezy's MP3 player as they walk.

For the record, he cannot dance. However, this does not stop him from trying. Nor does Breezy's incessant snickering and mockery. The people passing him on the street tend to bop their head along as they pass or even sing along occasionally.