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bamon4bamily · 5 years

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TVD 9X04 (part 3) Enjoy! =)

Cut to - Matt at the Mayor’s house.

EDWARD: Thank you for coming, Sheriff. Did you find anything in those documents?

MATT: No, but I was sent this… (shows him the note and key)

EDWARD: Who is it from?

MATT: Anonymous…

EDWARD: As in those guys that wear the weird mask?

MATT: No, I mean… you know what I mean… what kind of game are they playing here?

EDWARD: Seems to me that someone is trying to push your buttons.

MATT: No shit! Sorry… I’m just getting really tired of these mind games.

EDWARD: Sheriff, if I may offer you some advice, keep your head cold and your heart colder; that’s how you win the game.

MATT: You need to tell me what’s in that black box?

EDWARD: The winning chess piece…

MATT: Again, with the riddles.

EDWARD: It’s no riddle, Sheriff, it is, quite literally, a chess piece.

MATT: I don’t get it. How is a chess piece supposed to help?

EDWARD: Oh, Sheriff, you underestimate the power of intrigue…

MATT: Guess I do. So, what does it mean?

EDWARD: It means whatever meaning Darius chooses to give to it… and that’s when we’ll hold the advantage.

MATT: I still don’t get it.

EDWARD: Patience, Sheriff, you will, you have my word.

Cut to - Caroline and Stefan in their room.

CAROLINE: Why didn’t you tell me about your “master” plan?

STEFAN: Because I knew you would get upset.

CAROLINE: So? We don’t have to agree on everything, but we need to trust each other…

STEFAN: Please, don’t take it like that; you know I trust you, more than anyone, I just didn’t want you to get mad at me.

CAROLINE: About Katherine?

STEFAN: No, not about her, about boycotting your Halloween party… I know it was important for you.

CAROLINE: Are you serious!? Stefan, please! I know I’m a control freak, but I understand priorities!

STEFAN: I know; I’m sorry. I’m still overwhelmed with this coming back to life thing… and terrified of losing you...

CAROLINE: (Kisses him) Don’t be, I’m not going anywhere. Having you back was the best birthday gift I could ever wish for, and, just like you, the thought of losing you again scares the crap out of me, but we need to stay strong.

STEFAN: I love you, Caroline, and all I want is for you, for us, to be happy, for whatever time we may have... whether it’s days, months, years, the only thing that matters is that we are together.

CAROLINE: I love you so much (Kisses him). Listen, I know you want to help with all of this, but you are human now, we can’t risk it. So, please, stay here, keep the girls and the students safe, and let us do the fighting.

STEFAN: If it’s what you want, I’ll do it. Just promise me you’ll make sure to come walking through that door safe and sound.

CAROLINE: I promise.

Cut to – Whitmore College, Sam is in Elena’s dorm helping her pack.

SAM: (Picking books from her book shelve to pack) Um, Twilight?

ELENA: Well, that’s obviously not mine; that’s… that’s… Bonnie’s!

SAM: Really? Then why does it say: Dear Elena, cause guilty pleasures are nothing to be ashamed of! Love, Bonnie. Winking smiley face…

ELENA: Oh god! (Covers her face and whispers to herself) This is so embarrassing… (Sam laughs).

SAM: Definitely going on the “to take box”. So, have you told Bonnie and Caroline when we are leaving?

ELENA: No, I’ll tell them at the Halloween party, I hate goodbyes. I just want to enjoy the night with my friends, then leave the next day as if nothing was going to change… No waterworks.

SAM: I understand, but will they?

ELENA: Bonnie, yes. Caroline, definitely not, but she’ll get over it eventually.

SAM: I know this must be hard, leaving everything you know behind, but they will always be your friends, no matter how far you are from each other.

ELENA: I know, but what if we drift apart? More than friends, they are my family…

SAM: You won’t drift apart; strong bonds never break. They’ll visit, you’ll visit, you’ll face time, WhatsApp, send postcards…

ELENA: You are right; if anything they’ll be psyched to have free lodge in Germany.

SAM: They will; and when they visit, we can go backpacking, have a blast. (Holds her face) It will be fine.

ELENA: I love you, Sam. I’ve said those words many times before, but I need you to know that this is the first time that I feel what real, healthy love, really is.

SAM: I love you too. You have no idea how thankful I am that I found you. (They kiss then progress to… well, you know!).

ELENA: We can pack later…

Cut to – later that night, Bonnie’s room. Damon knocks on the door.

BONNIE: Come in.

DAMON: Hey Bon-Bon, thought you’d be in the mood for some vamp-cakes (hands her a plate).

BONNIE: Yum, yes, always. Thank you…

DAMON: (Sits next to her on the bed) Listen, Bon, I wanted to talk to you about all of this… I need to know that you are fine; and that you will be fine…

BONNIE: I am, and I think I will be… I know I’m psychic but I can’t control the future… Where is this coming from, Damon?

DAMON: I… I’m… listen… I… I’m…

BONNIE: You’re babbling, what’s going on?

DAMON: Okay, I’ll be completely honest with you, Bon. I’m scared, terrified actually. I’m supposed to be the fearless tough guy but I’m freaking out, and I have no idea how to handle it…

BONNIE: Hey, listen, you are not supposed to be anything… This is scary, we’ve never faced anything like it before. I’m scared too, but we are fighters, no matter what comes our way, we don’t give up.

DAMON: It’s just that… I… I…

BONNIE: Damon, look at me, we will get through this… we always do, Batman and Robin, remember?

DAMON: (Smiles) Sorry, Bon, I’m acting like a freakin cry baby … I think I had one too many…

BONNIE: Don’t be sorry, Damon, it’s okay to be scared.

DAMON: Do you remember that night in Prague? I got so hammered and started crying like a little girl?

BONNIE: (Laughs) I remember… you broke into an old puppet shop and put on quite a show. It was hilarious, I think I actually peed my pants…

DAMON: Oh, you did! We had to trick a lost tourist into giving you her pants!

BONNIE: Oh shit, yes! I remember… that was insane! (They laugh hysterically).

DAMON: One of the best nights of my life…

BONNIE: (Holds his hand) It’s going to be fine, we will win this fight, and if we don’t, we’ll deal with it the best we can.

DAMON: Thank you, Bon, for everything. You are, beyond a doubt, the most amazing woman I’ve ever known, and I’m honored to be your friend.

BONNIE: Okay, you need to stop with the solemnness before you make me start crying like a little girl. Let’s just eat some vamp-cakes and continue our GOT binge watch, deal?

DAMON: Bon, I…

BONNIE: I know, the Jon Snow stab, we’ll skip that part.

Cut to – Freaky old mansion library, Darius anxiously holding the black box Matt gave him. A voice speaks…

VOICE: Patience, Darius. The time will come, you have my word. For now, prepare the ground troops.

DARIUS: But it’s too soon, we haven’t even run tests.

VOICE: We don’t have time for tests, and timing is essential to the game.

DARIUS: This is a very risky move…

VOICE: I know, but sometimes we need to take calculated risks. Trust me, this move will end in checkmate.

Cut to - Early next morning, Bonnie’s room. Damon and Bonnie are asleep in her bed (fully clothed, be patient, the time will come😉). Damon had fallen asleep the night before while they were binge-watching GOT. Caroline comes into Bonnie’s room.

CAROLINE: Hey, Bon… (looks at Damon and Bonnie laying in bed, makes her signature OMG face; Damon and Bonnie wake up).

Finally!! Now, was that so hard to admit?

BONNIE: (Throws her pillow at Caroline) Get your mind out of the gutter, we fell asleep binge watching GOT.

And, have you ever heard of knocking? What if we were actually doing what you were imagining…?

DAMON: (Teasing) Isn’t it obvious, Bon? She’d want to stay and watch… (signature wink n’ smirk).

CAROLINE: (Throws the pillow back at Damon) Ew, no! You’re disgusting! Anyway, our Halloween party might have been hijacked but we are still going all out with our costumes. So, finish whatever this is, and get ready to go shopping.

BONNIE: Really, Care? I mean, what’s the point?

CAROLINE: Are you seriously asking me that question?

BONNIE: Never mind, forgot who I was talking to. Give me half an hour, okay?

DAMON: (Teasing again) Oh, Bon, it’s going to take much longer than that! (Winks).

BONNIE: (Hits him with the pillow, pushes him out of her bed) Shoo, shoo!

DAMON: Fine! But I’m coming too! I already know what I’m looking for.

CAROLINE: Fine, you and Stefan will need some supervision, so, go get ready, we are leaving in 30! (Damon leaves). (Mocking Bonnie) Say what you will Bonnie, denial only makes it more obvious… (as Bonnie throws the pillow at her again, Caroline vamps her way out just in time to miss the hit).

Cut to – a freaky underground bunker, a man dressed in a military uniform comes out of heavily guarded and shielded door.

MILITARY GUY: As per orders, Unit 1 has been activated, Sir. Are you sure it’s safe to proceed against protocol?

DARIUS: No, General, but we don’t have a choice.

MILITARY GUY: Sir, if I may say so, this is very irresponsible; should the program fail, in any way, we will have a serious problem on our hands.

DARIUS: I know, so let’s hope it doesn’t.

MILITARY GUY: Hope, Sir? It scares me that a man of science is relying on faith…

DARIUS: As it does me…

MILITARY GUY: I only signed off on this mission because I was given a direct order from the boss, but make no mistake, Sir, if this gets out of hand, I will make my own decision on how to address the situation.

DARIUS: That’s a smart choice, General. Anyway, I need to leave, I have to go buy myself a Halloween costume. I trust that you will keep a close watch.

MILITARY GUY: As instructed, Sir.

Cut to – a costume shop. Bonnie, Caroline, Stefan, and Damon are scrolling through the shop.

CAROLINE: (To Stefan) Ohm, don’t even think about it! (He is holding a poop emoji costume).

STEFAN: Oh, come on, Care, it’s hilarious!

BONNIE: (Defending Stefan’s choice) Got to admit, it really is!

CAROLINE: No, it’s not, so please stop encouraging him and go supervise whatever dumb ass costume Damon is probably picking.

BONNIE: (To Stefan) Sorry, I tried…

STEFAN: Fine, so what do you suggest?

CAROLINE: Whatever you want, except that!

STEFAN: I don’t even know why I’m getting a costume if I’m not going…

CAROLINE: We are having a pre-party at the house and taking the girls trick-or treating.

STEFAN: Okay, what about this… (picks a Britney Spears costume).

CAROLINE: Are you kidding me?

(Katherine, who just happened to be at the same shop, walks towards them holding a costume)

KATHERINE: I think this one would be perfect… (she is holding a Dracula costume)

CAROLINE: Oh, great! What the hell are you doing here?

KATHERINE: Isn’t it obvious? Guess it’s true what they say about blonds…

CAROLINE: (To Stefan) Thought you locked her in?

STEFAN: What can I say, she’s resourceful.

CAROLINE: Listen Jeeper-Creeper, get out of my eyesight before I…

KATHERINE: Relax, Care Bear. (Sarcastically) I was just trying to help, but whatever (hangs the costume back) … I’ll leave you to your bickering, I have my own costume to find.

CAROLINE: God, I hate her! But… (grabs the costume Katherine had chosen) it is ironically perfect, right?

STEFAN: It is... got to have a sense of humor!

CAROLINE: And, you'll look hot as hell in it (smirks, they kiss).

In another part of the shop, Bonnie finds Damon.

BONNIE: Find anything?

DAMON: Actually… (turns around with two costumes, Batman and Robin, hands her the Batman costume). What do you say?

BONNIE: (Laughs) You’re crazy… but I’m in!

DAMON: That’s my girl! (Awkward moment… then Caroline walks up to them just in time to save them from themselves).

CAROLINE: So, Bonnie, what you pick?

BONNIE: (Shows her the Batman suit) What do you think?

CAROLINE: Good, I was afraid he’d (referring to Damon) go for a stripper costume or something along those lines…

BONNIE: It’s not Damon’s, it’s mine… (with a funny low voice) I’m Batman…

CAROLINE: Oh god! I should have seen this coming. (To Damon) Is there anything you don’t ruin?

DAMON: Oh, come on, Care! You are just jealous because you know you could never pull it off.

CAROLINE: Definitely not as good as you can pull off green fairy shorts and a lame cape.

DAMON: No, wait, what?

CAROLINE: (Caroline takes the modern cool looking Robin version costume from Damon’s hands) Sorry, this one is taken, so you’ll have to do with this one (takes an old-school Robin costume, which is, in fact, a tight AF spandex green short & shirt with a yellow cape).

DAMON: Oh, hell no! I’m not wearing this!

BONNIE: Hey, we had a deal!

DAMON: Bon-Bon, there is no way I’m wearing this…

BONNIE: But it’s the only Robin costume left, a pact is a pact.

DAMON: Oh, you are… fine. I’ll do it, just know that I’ll get you back… both of you.

CAROLINE: (Mocking him) Oooo, I’m sooo scared… fairy boy! (laughs and walks away).

DAMON: This means war, Bennett…

BONNIE: Bring it on!

Cut to – Matt’s house. Khuyana and Tyler are having lunch in the kitchen, Matt comes downstairs, he just got up.

KHUYANA: Another all-nighter?

MATT: You know it…

KHUYANA: You look… tired.

MATT: Is that a nice way of telling me I look like crap? (He does).

KHUYANA: What’s going on with you, Matt? We are worried.

MATT: Don’t be, I’m fine. Just getting ready for the big night.

TYLER: Man, you seem off lately, are you sure you’re O.K?

MATT: (Snaps) I said I’m fine! So, drop it!

KHUYANA: Matt, stop! We are just trying to help.

MATT: I’m sorry, I’m just under a lot of stress…

KHUYANA: We all are, Matt… talk to us, what’s going on?

MATT: I can’t right now, I need to go.

KHUYANA: Again? You are barely home anymore, or in contact with any of us, you don’t even know how the final plan is going to come down.

MATT: I’m working as hard as I can on my end. You can brief me later. (Sarcastically) I’m sure whatever “genius” plan you have cooked up, I’ll be able to jump on board.

TYLER: You’re being a dick, Matt.

MATT: And you are being as useless as usual. I mean, if this is what you are bringing to the table, you should have stayed dead, bro.

KHUYANA: Matt!! What the hell has gotten into you!

MATT: Oh god, sorry man, I’m just exhausted. You know I didn’t mean that; I am being a dick, I’m really sorry.

TYLER: Just chill, man, talk to us…

MATT: I really want to, but I need to go; I promise we’ll talk later. (Kisses Khuyana, bro-hugs Tyler, then leaves).

KHUYANA: I’m worried about him.

TYLER: So am I…

Cut to – Salvatore mansion, Alaric putting the twins to bed.

ALARIC: So, girls, pinky swear?

TWINS: Pinky swear!

ALARIC: We have a deal! We’ll go trick-or-treating, then mom and I will leave to another Halloween party, and uncle Stefan will stay here with you. So, there is nothing to be afraid of, okay?

JOSIE: Okay, daddy, but promise that you and mommy will be fine…

ALARIC: I promise.

LIZZY: Pinky swear?

ALARIC: Pinky swear! Listen, mommy is on her way to give you guys a goodnight kiss, how about I read you a story while we wait for her?

TWINS: Yes!!!

JOSIE: Sabrina, daddy, please!

ALARIC: Sabrina it is!

Caroline, Stefan, Damon, Bonnie, and Katherine walk through the front door.

KATHERINE: Thanks for the ride! I’m gonna grab myself some comfort food and call it a night. (Leaves).

CAROLINE: I swear she is tempting my patience! Let me go kiss the girls goodnight and I’ll be right down… I think we can all use a nightcap, am I right? (To Stefan) Bourbon on the rocks, please?

STEFAN: Sure thing. (Kisses him then goes upstairs. Stefan, Damon, and Bonnie serve themselves a drink and sit down in the living room).

DAMON: So, Stefan, what costume did you end up getting?

STEFAN: (Pulls his costume out of a bag, Damon and Bonnie crack up). You got to admit, it’s kind of ironic… What you two get?

BONNIE: (Pull hers out of the bag with pride) How cool is this?!

STEFAN: It’s badass! I’ll trade you…

BONNIE: Don’t think Care would be okay with that… plus, my costume is part of an ensemble (to Damon) right, Damon?

DAMON: Don’t you dare go there, Bon…

STEFAN: What, come on, show!

DAMON: Nop, don’t want to spoil the surprise.

BONNIE: It’s not that bad, Damon… come on, show him.

STEFAN: Can’t be worse than mine…

DAMON: Oh, trust me, it can (pulls out his costume, Stefan bursts into a hysterical laugh).

STEFAN: Oh, this is too good! Well, I hope you shave your legs… fairy boy (keeps laughing along with Bonnie, Caroline comes back down).

CAROLINE: I see Damon showed you his costume… (Mocking Damon) I’m sure you’ll look fabulous! (They all laugh).

DAMON: Sure, laugh all you want…

BONNIE: Well, the time has come (puts up her drink for a cheer) … whatever happens tomorrow, I just want you to know that I love you guys…

CAROLINE: Bon… don’t.

BONNIE: Care, we don’t have to act like it’s no biggie, it is… and no matter how confident we are about our plan, there is no way of knowing it will work.

CAROLINE: I know but let’s keep it positive and just have a good time tonight, okay?

DAMON: In that case… who’s up for some drunken twister?

They spend the night drinking, playing and laughing…

To be continued... Halloween special coming up next!! Hope you stop by, read and enjoy! =)

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staticscreenwriting · 5 years

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the same sunset - chapter three

Chapter three - trashed

Masterlist : add /tsmstorymasterlist after my URL

The music sounding from Carol’s house can be heard all the way to the other end of the street where Billy parks his car in the driveway that leads to nowhere. It seems there has once been a house there but now it’s just a deserted spot being used by teenager to park their cars whenever Carol decides it’s time to throw another rager.

Walking down the street towards the party, Billy can’t help but admire the confidence Cleo seems to emmit. It’s different to his. His is fake and take all the effort in the world to uphold. Hers seems to come natural. No effort at all.

“ You know “ she speaks up as they’re just a few houses away from Carol’s “ you can go in first if you want. They’re gonna talk if they see us arrive together. And I’ll have you know, as hard as it is to believe, I am not the most popular person. So if you don’t wanna ruin that cool brooding bad boy persona you have going on, I understand. They don’t need to see us together. “

“ Don’t make a big deal of it, then they won’t “ Billy replies. Back in California he was a different person. People there had known him since childhood and with them he didn’t ever really have to think about any image he wanted to uphold. He was just Billy. His mullet, the camaro, the music and the jeans. Those were just things that belonged to him as much as Max’ red hair belonged to her. They mean different things now.

In California he was Billy first, all the other things came with him.

Here they saw the car first, the outfits, the attitude. The loud music and the constant unbothered look etched onto his face. And from that they made up their own image of who he was. And it worked in his favor really. He’s adored by the girls and admired by most boys. And if that means he has to pretend not to be bothered by shit than so be it. Seeming numb is easy. He’s gotten a lot of practice at home.

“ Oh boy, you’re so not a small town boy. “ Cleo says and skips ahead of him a few steps, giving Billy a perfect view of her ass in jeans that are fitting like a god-damn glove. He can’t suppress a smirk, thinking back to Pete’s disapproving look back at the diner.

There’s a red solo cup pushed into his hand as soon as Billy enters the house. That awful “I Ran” song is blasting through the stereo and Billy remembers the reason he usually gets shitfaced at Carol’s parties. The music sucks.

Cleo walks further into the room and is swallowed by the crowd before Billy can figure out where she’s going. Only a mess of blonde hair visible as she squeezes herself between the dancing teenagers.

“ You know, when you asked me about her I just thought you were curious. Didn’t think you were into her “.

Of course it’s Tommy who hands Billy the drink, he’s probably been sitting by the door waiting for him to show up. It’s a little sad really, Tommy’s been following Billy around like a lost puppy from day one. But then again, no matter how annoying or clingy he is, Tommy is not a bad guy. He’s just not the brightest crayon in the box but Billy can deal with that. Also he’s Billy’s walking encyclopedia on all things Hawkins High and always knows when and where the parties are happening.

“ Shut up, man. It’s not like that. I uh — I work at her dad’s diner. We were just carpooling here. That’s it”.

“ You have a job ? “ Tommy asks dumbfounded. His eyebrows are raised in question and for a moment it makes Billy angry.

“ We don’t all have a dad who blows money up our ass and buys everything for us, Tommy “

It’s a little harsh, Billy admits that, but that doesn’t make it any less true. Tommy’s dad is the owner of some big ass lumber yards all over Indiana, dispensing wood to all kinds of high class furniture stores to make fancy sofas for fancy people, like Tommy’s dad.

Billy’s met him a few times and he seems to have zero backbone and the personality of a sponge but his wallet is wide open. Probably to make him feel better about not giving a proper shit about his son. As long as Tommy doesn’t get too out of line, his dad doesn’t really pay him any attention. He’s supposed to take over the business someday in the future. That’s the end game. Everything until then doesn’t really matter.

“ Hey sorry, man. That’s not what I meant. I think it’s cool you’re working. Do you think you can get us a discount if we come around ? “

Billy only shakes his head, a smirk finding a way onto his lips again. Tommy’s a fucking nuisance most of the time, like everything and everyone in this place. But he’s honest and Billy can appreciate that a whole lot.

“ Dunno. “

As he takes a drink from the cup, Billy immediately regrets his decision. It tastes like Cranberry juice and disappointment. Whatever vodka concoction they’ve mixed together, it fucking blows. Like a prom punch spiked by some over enthusiastic junior.

“ Thomas, show me where the beers are and we can see about that discount “ Billy says and throws his arm around Tommy’s shoulder. If he was gonna enjoy this party, bad music and shitty drinks and all, he needs beer. Lots of it.

- OOO -

Billy’s hands softly trail down the path of Erika Kapelsky’s curves. There’s some Bon Jovi song playing over the speakers and she seems to go wild on that stuff. Her ass has been rubbing his crotch for the last 5 minutes. At this point he is 99.9% sure he’s gonna score big time. He’s heard she gives great head. That she’s flexible too.

“ I’m gonna go to the bathroom real quick. Take me home when I come back ? Parents are on a business trip “ she murmures into his ear and softly bites his lobe as she pulls away.

That’s the good thing about rich kids, Billy thinks. Their parents are always on some uber important trips for work. It’s like they’re preaching abstinence and safe sex and then do everything in their power to make sure their kids get laid as much as possible. Like leaving them alone in a big ass mansion.

“ Sure “ he agrees and watches her walk away, hips swaying dramatically. She knows how to put on a show.

“ Erica huh ? Nice one, dude “ it’s like as soon as he is alone Tommy gravitates back towards Billy. Sometimes it makes him feel like he has an actual friend. Other times it’s just annoying.

“ Yeah “ as Billy looks towards the door Erica has just disappeared through, his eyes catch movement coming from the hallway next to it.

The big mess of blonde curls on Cleo’s head is bobbing up and down as Cleo hurries down the hallway. There’s stains of what Billy assumes is the shitty prom punch all over her shirt and she’s … crying ?

He doesn’t know for sure but she’s angry that’s obvious. Her lips are pulled into a scowl and her eyebrows are furrowed. She squeezes her way through the crowd and towards the door.

For a moment Billy wants to follow. Wants to figure out what happened, if she’s crying and why. He doesn’t though.

Not his mess. Not his problem.

That’s something his dad always says. It’s a motto that’s been drilled into Billy’s head ever since he was a kid.

He remembers when he was just a little boy, maybe 5 years old. Back in California when his mom was still alive. They didn’t have shit back then but a tiny house and a rusty old car. His mom was working at a beach hut in the mornings, selling overpriced postcards and plastic seashell necklaces to tourists. Dad was constantly between jobs, saying that he just hadn’t found the right one yet. Truth is, no one wants to hire a raging alcoholic.

They didn’t have much back then but Billy liked the house, liked the neighbourhood, because there were kids there. One of them was Gracie Tempers. She lived across the street and she came over to Billy’s house a lot because her mom was working late and Billy’s mom was home in the afternoon to have an eye on the kids.

Gracie’s mom would always come and pick her up, never her dad. And she always had a cup of coffee with Billy’s mom. She was crying a lot but back then little Billy had no idea what was going on. She had a lot of black eyes too.

One night Billy couldn’t sleep so he snuck towards the kitchen, hoping to find his mother still awake so he could ask for a warm milk with some honey, his mom’s special.

Instead he found mom and dad arguing, again. When he heard Mrs. Tempers’ name he decided to hide behind the door and listen. They were yelling. Actually it was mostly his dad. Actually it was only his dad. His mom was talking in a quiet hushed voice. So timid. So scared. She wanted to help Mrs. Tempers. Wanted to “ call the cops “ Billy didn’t know what was going on then and he didn’t know if that was a good thing. Mom always said the police was someone you could go to whenever you needed help. Dad called them corrupt pigs.

Anyway. She wanted to call the cops and “get her away from him”. Billy didn’t know who “he” was either.

But no matter how hard she was pleading, how reasonable she was explaining. Dad’s booming voice kept repeating “ This is not your mess, Rebecca ! Not your problem ! “.

Cleo isn’t’ his mess either. Isn’t his problem.

So instead of going after her, Billy turns back towards the door waiting for Erica to be done so he can take her home and create a whole different kind of mess.

- OOO -

The cold air nips at Cleo’s nose as she walks down the street of this seemingly perfect suburban hell.

She should’ve known better. That’s the bottom line of it all. Should’ve known that showing up with Billy Hargrove would cause unwanted attention. Negative attention. That people would take it as some kind of threat to their social status.

Tina has always been a mean person. Someone that doesn’t lash out but observes. She schemes and calculates and figures out where to hit people so it hurts the most and leaves the most damage.

And whether she does it just out of pure spite or because she has some deep rooted insecurities that she wants to hide behind her malice, Cleo doesn’t know. In the end, it doesn’t matter anyway.

What matters is that Cleo should’ve known better. Billy is all Tina wanted since the moment he stepped foot onto the grounds of Hawkins High. And when Tina feels even a little threatened in getting what she wants, she knows exactly how to retaliate.

Cleo roughly wipes away the tears still rolling down her cheeks. Tina’s opinion shouldn’t matter. Her words shouldn’t matter. And really, they don’t. That doesn’t mean they don’t hurt.

And it’s not even the stuff about Cleo that hurt. It’s the stuff she said about her mom. Those things cut deep. Those things, Tina really doesn’t know shit about. But the worst thing ? Carol stood there and she said nothing and she did nothing. Just turned away as if she hadn’t held Cleo’s hand at her mother’s grave. As if she didn’t take care of her when she had a panic attack the night before the funeral.

As if she hadn’t been an important part of her life for so long. For the good times, but especially the bad times.

Sure they aren’t friends anymore, fair enough. But does that mean all that once was is erased and means nothing anymore ?

The air stings against Cleo’s bare arms, clings to the wet patches on her shirt. This night is a complete and utter mess and she should’ve known better.

There’s a light still burning on the porch and one in the living room. No matter how easy going her dad always pretends to be, he’s still a dad. A dad who acts like he got caught up watching old football games but really deliberately stays up to make sure his girl is getting home okay.

On one hand, Cleo is eternally grateful for the wonderful dad she has. On the other hand, it makes hiding stuff so much harder. Like tear stained cheeks. And punch soaked shirts. And anger. And sadness.

“ Hey kid, I — Cleo ? “ the smile on her dad’s face immediately falls as he takes note of her obvious misery.

“ It’s not as bad as it looks. I’m okay, can we — can we not talk about it ?”

Ever since Cleo was a kid, mom was responsible for the emotional stuff. The long talks and the cheering up. For the rough stuff. The sad stuff.

Dad was the goof who went and bought entirely too much ice cream and put on her favorite movie even though they’d all seen it a million times before.

Ever since her mom was dead, that kind of shifted. Dad had to be both, the goof and the emotional support system. And it is weird for everyone involved. Neither Cleo nor her dad are particularly good at talking about their feelings so after a while they put a system in place that seems to work for them both.

If one doesn’t talk about it on their own accord, no questions are being asked. It’s easier that way. Or maybe they just pretend it’s easier. Either way, Cleo is grateful about that system right now. Because how would she even begin to explain that it all starts and ends with that fact that her mother would still be alive if it wasn’t for her ?

“ Uh — yeah sure. Sure. “

“ Cool, thanks “ she nods and walks towards the stairs. As she is about to round the corner, her dad’s voice echoes through the halls, calling out to her.

“ Cleo ? “

“ Huh ? “

“ There’s some mint chocolate chip ice cream in the freezer. Just — just if you need it. “

And for the first time since running into Tina, a small smile finds its way onto Cleo’s face.

- OOO -

Billy’s head feels like exploding. Like he’s in a comic and a big ass anvil has been dropped down on him.

The morning sun is shining brightly but the air is cold as he climbs out of Erika’s bedroom window and walks down the street lined by identical houses with identical white fences. There’s perfectly cut lawns, even in the winter, and the frost clings onto the grass making it glimmer in the sun.

The mailboxes are pridefully displaying the names of the families, some of which Billy recognizes from school. Of course people would want others to know they live here. These houses are massive.

He wonders if the people here are genuinely happy or if they have to play pretend, just like he does. He wonders if things were different would his family live in one of these houses. If Neil wasn’t such a fuck up and actually had a proper job that could provide the family with a better living situation, would he be less angry? Would Billy be ?

After a few minutes of passing big ass houses and pristine lawns and picket fences and artsy mailboxes, he arrives at his car.

There’s noticeably less cars here now than there were last night. Next to his Camaro is Tommy’s car which means he’s probably stayed over at Carol’s last night. Whatever those two have, Billy thinks, is a big old mess. They’re constantly at each other’s throats. Either fighting or making out. It’s exhausting for him, and he’s only watching from the sidelines.

Billy slumps down into the driver’s seat of his beloved Camaro. It smells like leather and cigarettes and honestly, it’s a smell that’s become incredibly comforting to him. His car is so much more than just a status symbol. It’s his way out. His escape. When things at home get too bad he can always get in his car and drive around. Aways from the yelling. Away from his father’s anger.

Away from home.

He turns towards the passenger side of his car, itching for a cigarette and hoping to find on in the glove compartment. Instead he’s faced with Cleo’s denim jacket discarded on his passenger seat.

He wants to ignore it. Pretend it isn’t there and just wait for her to come and get it. That’s another thing you learn in the Hargrove household. Don’t let your shit lying around or it’s gone. Neil never had any respect for any of Billy’s things so if he wasn’t being careful with it, Neil would just throw it in the trash.

He wants to ignore Cleo’s jacket so badly. But he can’t. He doesn’t.

- OOO -

The Finch’s two story home is painted a pale blue color. There’s paint chipping from the doorframes and the windows. The front yard looks clean enough but it’s not even close to the front yards he’s seen in Carol’s neighbourhood.

Their little white mailbox says “Finch” in what seems to be the handwriting of a young child. There’s 4 handprints. One big one that he bets belongs to Pete. A bright red one that he can only imagine belongs to a slightly younger version of Cleo. There’s a teeny tiny one that he’s sure is Charlie’s. Then there’s another one. It’s smaller than Pete’s but only slightly bigger than Cleo’s.

His heart drops a little at the realization of who’s handprint it is.

He wonder how she does it. How she lives through losing her mother and doesn’t end up resenting the whole world for it, like he does. He wonders if things would be different if Neil wasn’t such a piece of shit and actually gave a damn about Billy and his grief and this perpetual feeling of anger and bitterness. If he had someone like Pete in his life, would things be — ok ?

His mind drifts back to Cleo’s words from that time in the diner when she made them grilled cheese “Things are rough all over”. Maybe they are. Maybe they’re rougher for some though.

Denim jacket grasped tightly on one hand, Billy walks up the porch steps towards the door with the chipped white paint and rings the doorbell. He doesn’t know what to say to Cleo when she answers, if she answers. It’s not like he cares about her particularly much or about the fact that she was klutzy enough to leave her jacket, in the middle of November no less.

He’s not sure why he’s here in the first place. Maybe because her crying face has sneaked it’s way into the back of his mind every one in a while since last night.

Or maybe because he feels guilty for not bringing her home safe as he had told Pete he would.

Or maybe because he was curious about what happened.

Or maybe all of the above.

Though it’s not Cleo that opens the door. It’s a wild mop of bright red hair and a smile missing one tooth.

“ Billy ? “ Charlie asks, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“ Hey. ‘s Cleo home ? “

“ No. Why ? “

He hated being questioned. There’s hardly any privacy at home. Every part of his life seems to be considered public property to Neil. Secrets are dangerous. So when you are asked, you either answer or you face the consequences.

“ She left her jacket in my car. Hey where is she ? “

“ What does it matter ? “

“ I wanna give it back “

“ You can just leave it here. She’ll be back home eventually. “

Charlie seemed nice enough for a kid that one time he met her, but Billy can’t deny that right now she’s seriously testing his patience.

“ I know I can but I want to give it to her personally. If that’s okay with you of course. “ he snaps at her and immediately feels bad as he sees the sliver of uncertainty and — fear in her eyes.

“ Look — “ he starts and pinches the bridge of his nose “ — I let her leave the party alone last night and I feel bad about it, okay ? So just tell me where she is and I’ll give this thing back and say sorry and then we can go back to seeing each other at work and that’s it .”

Charlie bites her lip in uncertainty. Billy can see her considering all options. Finally settling on the thought that her sister deserves an apology if Billy is willing to give one, Charlie grants him a small smile and replies “ you know where the old junk yard is ? “

- OOO -

The november sun stands high up in the sky when Billy arrives at the junkyard. There’s a lot of shit lying around. Mostly tires and bottles, pieces of wood, half gutted cars and a variety of metal signs that seem like the used to decorate the shop fronts of Hawkin’s downtown once upon a time.

He spots Cleo the moment he steps out of his car. She’s in a pair of ripped jeans and a gray sweater that looks 2 sizes too big for her and falls off of one shoulder. Her blond curls are pulled into a messy ponytail but a few strands have escaped and frame the side of her face.

The thing that makes him wonder though, is the baseball bat clutched rightly in her hand.

He can her Black Sabbath playing loudly from small radio propped up on an old oil drum.

The pebbles are crunching beneath his boots as he approaches her and when she lifts her head, Billy can see nothing but annoyance in her eyes.

“ The hell are you doing here ? “ she asks, her voice rid of all her usually bubbliness.

“ You left your jacket in my car. You know, where I come from girls do that to make boy call them back. “ he says and smirks. He knows that wasn’t her intention but if there’s an opportunity to tease, Billy sure as hell isn’t gonna let it go.

“ Well here it just means that I forgot my jacket. Sorry to hurt your ego. “

“ Oh it doesn’t. Trust me. “

His gaze moves from her towards the baseball bat, then back to her. “ What the hell are you even doing with that thing ? “

Billy can see the smirk pulling at the corner of her lips. It’s tiny and barely there but he can notice it anyway.

“ Break stuff. “

She accompanies her words with a swing of the bat , slamming it into one of the rusting cars. There’s the crashing of metal and glass and the music all mixing together to create a melody of absolute chaos.

Cleo pulls back again and places another hit against the vehicle. Then another. And a fourth before she blows one of the stray curly away from her face and glances at Billy through the corner of her eye “ you wanna try ? “

He shrugs and takes the bat from her hand. “ You gotta make it count though. “

“ The hit ? “

“ Mmh “ Cleo nods then hoists herself up on the hood of another car.

And Billy makes it count. Not the first time. But when Cleo calls out to him to “ think of something that makes you really fucking angry “ he puts his all in the hit.

He thinks of his mother dying. His friends who don’t bother calling. His dad. All of it. Everything.

It’s like with every time the bat descends onto the metal, his shoulders feel a little lighter. Like he gets to let go of his anger for a moment there and channel it all into the task of destroying the damn car. It’s what it feels like whenever he gets into fights only without the stupid consequences.

“ Feels good ? “ Cleo asks, sipping on a bottle of what he assumes is beer.

And when he looks up at her he can’t help but smile. Genuinely smile “ feels awesome! “

- OOO -

The two teens are lounging on the hood of an old Cadillac from the 50s sipping on their beers and watching the sun slowly set behind the trees. The junkyard sits atop a hill and you can just make out the outskirts of Hawkins from up here.

“ Why’d you come ? You could’ve just left the jacket at my place and leave. “ Cleo asks, eyes trained on the horizon.

“ What do I know. Thought I owed you this much. “

“ Why would you owe me ? “ she still doesn’t look at him but as Billy glances at her, he can see her pull her eyebrows together in confusion.

“ I saw you crying and I — ugh I don’t know okay ? Just wanted to see if you’re alright. Don’t make a big deal of it. “

She doesn’t. It makes her smile anyway.

“ Well thanks “

“ Whatever. “

For a moment it’s silent then Billy speaks up again.

“ What was that about anyway ? The whole crying thing ? “

“ They talked shit about my mom “ Cleo says and takes the last sip from the bottle before throwing it against the mount of trash making it break into little pieces.

“ That sucks. She’s dead right ? “ It might sound heartless and brash to some but Billy hates it when people sugarcoat stuff to him for no reason and something tells her Cleo isn’t that different when it comes down to it.

“ Yup. Yours too, huh ? “

Billy nods “ Yeah “

“ What happened ? “

“ Cancer. Yours ? “

“ Car accident. “

“ Fuck. “

“ Yes. Fuck. “

Billy turns his head to the side so he’s facing her and Cleo follows suit soon after.

“ That why you come here to break shit ? “ he questions, taking his last sip of beer then following Cleo’s earlier action of breaking the bottle against the pile of trash.

“ I was — so frustrated. With everything. I knew Tina was gonna talk smack when she sees me showing up with you but deliberately bringing up my dead mother to hurt me ? That’s low. “

“ That’s fucked up. “

“ That’s a highschool girl who feels threatened “

Billy lets out a humourless laugh “ It’s not fair though. She doesn’t know what the hell it feels like to lose your mom. You shouldn’t have to deal with her using that to hurt you just because she thinks her pussy is some kind of otherworldly experience that gives her the power to rule this trash pile of a town. For the record, it’s not. “

Cleo snickers and Billy thinks she looks fucking cute when she does it.

“ Can I ask you something ? “ Billy wonders, looking at Cleo expectandly.

“ I guess. “

“ Are you angry ? Because I — I don’t think I have felt anything but anger in so long. I’m so mad at god or the universe of whatever. Whatever is responsible for taking my mom away. My dad — Neil, he’s an absolute asshole. Always has been but mom — mom was good. So why did it happen to her ? It makes no sense and it drives me insane to think about it. It makes me so so furious. “

“ What makes you think I’m not angry ? “

“ You don’t seem angry. “

“ Well I am. I just — life needs to go on, you know. I gotta help dad with the diner and make sure Charlie is happy and healthy. I am angry I just literally do not have the time to dwell on that feeling. “

It makes sense, he think. Back in California life was shit too but he had friends there and stuff to do to take his mind off of things. Hawkins is quiet and empty and boring and his mind gets all the time in the world to think about the sad stuff. The shit that makes him angry.

“ Well look at us sharing sob stories like some kind of dead-moms-club. “ he scoffs but allows a little smile to tug at the corner of his lips which grants him a smile from Cleo in return.

“ Oh shut up, Billy “

And as her laughter echoes through the air and he looks up towards the November sky, he doesn’t feel so angry anymore, at least not for that moment. He’s not happy either but he’s content. And maybe that’s all he can ever ask for. To not feel angry all the time. To get a single moment of relieve. Of lightness. Of ease. Of laughter.

#billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagines #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #tsmstorymasterlist

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spectralarchers · 6 years

Text

things i’ve learnt from working in an airport shop the last years:

"unattended luggage will be removed by the authorities” is no longer a phrase that makes sense to the brain it’s just background noise like the delusional amount of “this is a last call for passengers travelling on flights blablabla the gate is closing and the plane is ready for departure” scrambles my brain

“i have a plane to catch!” will not make me wrap your presents faster, it will actually make me wrap it up 90% slower

“have a nice trip!” i say, “you too!” they say, they look at me with horror in their eyes, i just shrug “another day at the job”

“do you have (item that’s too large to fit into the overhead compartment)?” “no” “why?” “it doesn’t fit on the plane”

speaking of, we once sold a human sized leather penguin figure (don’t ask). a japanese business man bought it. it was only supposed to be an exhibition model. we told him to talk to the airline because it was too big. he did.

he bought an extra business class ticket for his human sized leather penguin.

his colleague came back a couple of months later and did the exact same thing.

a lady wearing what i’m pretty sure is every single diamond in the world bought stuff for three times my monhtly pay and waved off the “you can get it tax free, 20% off” offer i gave her.

"i have a plane to catch!” while you’ve just asked me to wrap the 17 presents you’re buying because christmas is tomorrow but you’re out at the last minute like every single person behind and in front of you is not going to make me wrap them any faster

“oh nice, were you here on holiday?” “no, i was here for a funeral” “oh... sorry...” *awkwardly continues wrapping presents without making eye contact*

*chinese tourists yelling across the shop* “I’m sorry, I don’t speak Chinese!” *yelling gets louder* “just one sec, let me get google translate out”

elderly french ladies will come to the counter and start talking french to us. (the shop is not in france. we are not in france. we do not sell french products).

elderly french ladies will be taken aback when i answer in french. “you don’t have an accent” “thanks it’s because i’m french”

not saying you moved to denmark three years ago anymore to french people because they all ask the same questions and you can recite the conversation by heart all by yourself instead

*spanish speaking individual comes up* “yo hablo un poco espanol” *spanish person starts talking at the speed of sound* “uhhhhhhhhh”

“where are you flying today?” *obscure city* “and which country is that in?” *quickly checks list of european union countries to make sure they can get tax free*

“i’m flying to norway, can i get tax free?” “i’m sorry no, denmark sweden and norway have their own rules” “but i got tax free in germany!” “and you can’t get it in denmark, sorry! Can i help the next in line?”

“can i get tax free on this?” “no, sorry, the minimum is 300 dkk and you’re buying for 19...” “i got tax free the last time i was here!” “well, if you want to find anything else to make it to 300...” *proceeds to buy for 500 instead of the postcard she was going for*

i have us dollars, cad dollars and swiss franks lying in a drawer because people have tipped me for gift wrapping their stuff even though i told them no, there’s no need

“excuse me how much is-” “129 dkk” “how much is that in eu-” “17€” “do you know all the prices by heart?” “pretty sure i do”

there is nothing more satifsying than the satisfaction of watching a business man in a silk/linen suit run for his life to make it to his plane

there is nothing more satisfying than the satisfaction of watching the blood drain from an annoying customer’s face right as the loudspeaker announcement calls for them because their plane is leaving and they were being entitled asses anyway

“I have a plane to catch!” you don’t say i didn’t know is this why there’s departure gates and luggage everywhere oh god i thought i was in a train station, i was wondering what the big lumps of metal with other lumps of metal attached taking off on the tarmac and into the skies were

“hi i was wondering if you could go into your main store in the city and get this thing for me and bring it here so i can take it on my plane that leaves in three hours” “hahahaha” “i wasn’t joking” “... no i’m afraid i can’t leave the shop i’m currently the only one attending ma’am”

“shit” “what” “i forgot my lunch box” “uh oh” *proceeds to weigh the pros and cons of buying an overpriced sandwich in an airport restaurant or starving until the shift is over*

“do we get any crew discount?” “only if you have this card” “we get crew discounts in *lists other airports*” “sorry you can’t get it here unless you have this card!!!” *shows her the laminated instructions for the crew discount* “bUt We GeT a CrEw DiScOuNt In ThEsE oThEr AiRpOrTs” “yOu CaN’t GeT iT hErE”

me trying to figure out if they’re leaving the EU so I can suggest tax free: “where are you going today?” “home” “hggnnnnn and which country is that?”

“what time do you open?” “6 am” “even on sundays?” “every day!” “even on sundays?” “... yes.”

“my plane going home leaves at 5:30 sunday morning, do you think you can open up the stores earlier so i can shop then?” “no, but you can shop now”

“could you wrap these up for transport?” *thing is already wrapped in silk paper, cardboard and foam* “uh... sure...???”

“can you wrap these as presents?” *halfway through* “oh wait, i have to show these to immigration, never mind” *growl*

“do you need to know the difference between the two?” “oh no” *as i’m wrapping the last one* “oh wait actually which one was the purple one?” *low growl*

“i have a plane to catch!” *deep growl*

#shut up christine #christine gets a job #airport aesthetics

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finchbeak · 7 years

Photo

Cairo Travelogue Day 2

I awoke to a semi early sun after an incredibly restful, perhaps even blissful, sleep. I swear the only time I actually sleep through the night anymore is when I’m on vacation. I should probably take a closer look at my general life decisions…

I decided that for my first full day in Cairo I wouldn’t go too crazy or go full on expert level travel. I’d stick with the familiar: museums are museums are museums. And Cairo has an epic, if dilapidated, one.

The Egyptian Museum (or Museum for Egyptian Antiquities. Which I like better because I like the word ‘antiquities’) is smack dab in the middle of Cairo. A pink domed colonial building chock full of Egyptian artifacts. It is both awe inspiring and deeply disappointing. The MEA (my newly minted acronym) is like that child who is wicked smart. So smart they are bored and then get shitty grades because they can’t be bothered. (I get you, MEA, I do).

There are no maps. The signage, if any, is typewritten. As on an actual typewriter. And there are typos galore. There is almost zero climate control. Windows are open. Sun is pouring in. Electric fans giving the briefest respite from the stuffiness. I can’t imagine being able to handle the MEA during peak tourist season. I’m very glad I thought to pack one of my handheld fans. It was a lifesaver.

So I shan’t bother you with a blow by blow of all the amazing things I saw in the museum, but I’ll provide some exemplars/thoughts:

- Mummies are really creepy. I would not be surprised if I had mummy nightmares tonight.

- Sarcophagi! (I don’t know, I just really liked how many there were)

- The Ancient Egyptians really did mummify everything. There was a mummified fish. A crocodile. A cobra. And a pet gazelle. (slight stray: this was the saddest part of the museum. It has really cool and creepy stuff. But it’s dusty and has smudged, scratched glass, and the lighting is shit. I could think of a dozen ways to make this a world class exhibit.)

- King Tutankhamun’s iconic solid gold funeral mask? It is one of those rare things that are ingrained in our general knowledge that manages to exceed expectations (see also: Stonehenge and the Eiffel Tower). It is breathtakingly beautiful.

- HOW DOES THIS MUSEUM NOT HAVE A REAL MUSEUM GIFT SHOP!? Sorry for the allcaps, but seriously? I’m saddened by this. Deeply upset, actually. I have a thing. I Iove Museum shops. I sometimes hurry through exhibits because I know awesome stuff is potentially waiting in the shop. Here? Nothing. A few books. Not even postcards worth buying. Some replicas without price tags. To say it was disappointing doesn’t even cover it. I kinda want to find a way to take over management of the museum and get shit to what it should be**

- And the museum Cafe? Doesn’t exist. Looks like it’s been shuttered for some time. I desperately needed a bottle of water after 3 plus hours in a swampy, hot museum.

So, yeah. That’s how I almost passed out in the streets of Cairo. You allegedly can’t bring liquids into the museum (which is doubly ridiculous now that I know the conditions they keep things in). I also wouldn’t have had coffee with my breakfast if I’d known there’d be no respite at the museum Cafe. Water only. So I’m sweaty and hot and desperately thirsty. It’s a wasteland around the museum. It’s cordoned off for security reasons. (the amount of metal detectors you have to go through…) So I head in the general direction of the Nile, hoping I might find a place to sit, eat, and cool down. I’m coming upon the Semiramis Intercontinental when I start to feel faint. Spots are actually forming in my vision (this is my personal precursor to passing out) so I practically stumble up to the entrance.

I felt like a drunk person trying to act sober. I didn’t want to pass out and I also didn’t want to seem like I was fucked up in anyway (such things are frowned upon in Cairo). So I make myself go through the metal detector and x-ray and sat myself at the hotel bar where I ordered a water and Pepsi. My hands literally couldn’t stop shaking.

The Egyptian sun is real, y'all. I even knew this. Came prepared. And I still almost succumbed.

After a good hour in hotel level air-conditioning and two bottles of water I decided to head out again. Just to see where I could find good food. Because I won’t let a little faintness stop me!

So I head right back into downtown Cairo. I take random streets. I cross into perilous traffic. I have no idea where I’m going. And then, down this random street I took because it had some trees and reminded me, oddly, of Marrakech (it had more than one dude working on his motorcycle with parts everywhere..) I find a little bit of food heaven.

The place had a slight line of Egyptians waiting outside of it. Food nerd spidey sense set off. So I stand in line. And I watch others order, but turns out they are getting take out. Luckily the cashier speaks enough English and directs me upstairs where I’m sat at a metal table surrounded by Egyptian families, couples and groups of friends. I’m the sole single person there. At this point I don’t even know what I’m here for. But it smells good.

The waiter comes up. Me: Can I have a menu? Him: quizzical look. Me: *pulling out phrase book to find word for menu* . Him: laughs. No menu. Small, medium, or large? Me: (playing safe) Small, low samaht! And a water bottle. Shukran.

Minutes later I get a plate of noodles. Lentils. A tomato based sauce. Some chickpeas. FRIED ONIONS. And I don’t know what else. It’s just delicious. And there are random condiments! I literally don’t know what’s in them because they aren’t transparent. But I watch what others are doing and follow suit (although they had an extra thing of something. Gotta figure that out.) Total outlay? About £E100. $5.65. I’m definitely going back and figuring out how to be a koshari expert.

I wander some more, but at this point I’ve sweat through my clothes. And I’m a good 1.5 miles away from my hotel (which normally wouldn’t phase me in the least…) so I head back. I make it home, put my sweat drenched clothes out to dry on my balcony, then lay spread eagle on my bed, AC full blast.

Tomorrow: Giza!

Espressos consumed: 0

Miles walked: 5.98

Number of times I silently sneered at women wearing skimpy shorts and tanktops in the museum whilst I wore ankle length pants and ¾ sleeve shirtsleeves? Countless.

**This is actually a super political issue in Cairo and I won’t get into it now.

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