ephemeral // matty healy

fleas market

It had taken the better part of a day, but Blair had mostly unpacked into her new room. She leaned back on her wall and admired her handiwork, setting up her desk and gallery wall as well as the empty space where her bed will be.

The room itself was sat on the corner of the building and had large windows that provided a lot of natural light.

"Almost need sunglasses because of them," she said aloud. She laughed for a moment, then quickly pitied herself. To cut the silence, she opened the window and let the city in.

The murmuring of the busy people below was enchanting at first then grew into an annoyance. Cars honked, people yelled, and the construction. Boy, oh boy, the construction was the worst of it all. Blair glanced down and cursed the men working on her block.

She closed the window.

Her phone began to vibrate, so she stepped over the "Bedding" box and grabbed it off her desk. She accepted the call when she read a familiar name on the screen.

"Hey, Bo, what's up?"

"Nothing much," he said normally, then dropped his voice to a whisper. "I think my mother is going to ask me to do chores today. Can I ask you to have an emergency?"

"Um, I don't really think it works that way. You can't ask someone to-"

"Please! Blair, I am begging you. I think she wants me to clean the bathroom and then hand wash some delicates." Blair could hear him squirming on the other end of the line. She sighed then decided to bail him out.

"Would you like to help me pick up a bedframe? I'm going to go the flea market 'round the corner."

"Oh, thank you so much!" Bo sounded relieved. "I promise I will do my best to help you in your bed-seeking journey."

"Thanks, Bo. I'll meet you there in about thirty minutes." They hung up.

-

Bo stood at the entrance of the market, under the tall bunting and banners. He was only about five and a half feet tall and he was the coolest person on the block. Blair jogged toward him when she spotted his blue and yellow knit cap.

"Hey!" she called through the crowd of people. Bo looked up from his phone and flailed an arm in some lazy greeting.

"Can I thank you again for rescuing me?" His blue eyes glittered and Blair made a 'pish posh' motion with her hand.

"Don't worry about it. Treat me to lunch and we'll call it even." They linked their arms and wandered into the market.

The two of them walked for so long they almost forgot why they were there. Instead of looking for a bed, they tried on hats, sampled artisanal jams and purchased handmade cards.

"So," Bo said through a mouth full of strawberry sorbet, "Why is it called a fleas market?" They were sitting at a picnic table, on the other side of the food trucks and stations.

"What do you mean?" Blair's eyes narrowed over her paper cup of tea. 

"Like a fleas market. What does it mean?"

"Are you saying 'fleas'?" Blair laughed. Her brows knitted together as she continued to giggle at Bo. "It's 'flea market', like, with a singular 'flea'."

"Well, that doesn't answer my question, now. Does it, Blair?" She reached over the wooden table and swatted his arm.

"I don't know, Bo. Did you see anyone selling fleas?" Bo shook his head as he licked his ice cream.  "No, huh? Interesting."

"Should we go back in?" Bo asked. "Not for the fleas, but to get a bed frame."

Blair pursed her lips and looked back into the crowd. She didn't really like anything and she didn't want to waste her time going back in when she knew she would walk about empty-handed.

"We could just go to Furniture Village instead."

So they did, off they went again. Bo's dessert didn't last very long, he almost inhaled it towards the end of their trek, and Blair had chugged her tea before they left the picnic table.

They put their heads together and decided on a white bed frame with ample storage underneath. It was 40% off because it had a couple of scuffs from transport, but Blair figured she would be able to paint over them. She prided herself on being thrifty and crafty. She just hoped the delivery wouldn't create any more flaws.

On the train ride home, the two stood underneath an advertisement for a local venue. Blair scanned it and noticed that one of the upcoming dates was for The 1975. Or was it an old poster? She couldn't quite decide but rolled her eyes anyway. She then decided to shake the table.

"So, you're still in love with Stella, right?" Bo's eyes nearly popped out of his head like a child's toy. He fell into a rapid coughing fit and gripped onto the hand strap for dear life. Some nearby passengers looked over in concern (or annoyance).

"What do you mean?" He tried to play it off coolly, but Blair just kept her face stony.

"Come on," she punched his arm. "It's not a secret. At least not to me, anyway." Stella didn't know about Bo's admiration, but he felt it the first moment he saw her in their undergrad.

"Yes, I still love her voice and her bubbly personality and her need to be good at everything and her effortless beauty. Is that what you want to hear? " he sighed with relief. "That's why I'm so glad you're back because even though you threaten to tell her every second of the day, I finally talk to someone about this. It was so difficult to hang out with her sometimes 'cause I felt like I was going to explode."

"Oh yeah, by the way, I'm going to tell her," Blair said jokingly. The pair leaned their heads together and rocked as the train came to a stop.

"Shut up, would you?" The train picked up again, whirring and gently shook them in their seats. He knocked their shoulders together.

"No, I don't think I will."