(WRITINGGGGGGGGGH)

"As I was saying do you want it more red tinted?" Damien continues over the phone.

"Forget it I'll just send you pictures. Now about the turquoise?"

"Yes-" he is cut off by a soul-piercing text alert.

"Just a second," I say.

WaSHIngTon:
Where are you?

Oh shit. I forgot about the setup.

"I have to go," I tell Damien. I hang up the phone and flick back to my messages. I grab the hood to my vest and shoot off a reply.

TJ:
I'll be there in ten

Not bothering to put on shoes, I grab my scooter from the garage and head to Aindriú's.

It's nice out. Just the right temperature for a vest and jeans. Maybe not the right temperature to scooter barefoot, but it's certainly a better time than the middle of August. I shudder thinking of the day I could've literally fried an egg on the pavement.

It's quieter than one would think, living barely outside of the downtown area. (No not uptown thank you very much). As sidewalks turn to side streets, I glide to the pathway around the lake. The broad ring of cement borders a lake filled with swans, among other things. I see a group of turtles surfacing and suppress a laugh, thinking of Kiva. I almost send her a picture.

Once I'm halfway around the lake, I jerk back onto a sidewalk that connects to the "entrance" I've carved out after awhile. Pulling through the underbrush and trying not to step on any thorns, I'm in the small public playground in the neighborhood. I dismount from my scooter and sling it over my shoulders, walking the short distance to Andriú's house.

I slam my scooter down on the back porch knock on the glass back door. Everyone is inside, busying themselves shoving against a giant couch. When I knock, Teagan springs up and slides the door open.

"What'd I miss?" I ask, receiving a well-earned glare from the rest of the room.

"We're facing a couch-tastrophe!" Teagan exclaims, also receiving a well-earned glare from the rest of the room.

"We're trying to move the couch," Azai explains flatly.

"Well y'all clearly aren't doing THAT right," I point out. I walk over to the couch and start to order everyone around. "Aindriú, walk around the couch and stand dead center behind it."

"Who died and made you boss?" he grumbles, obliging.

"Teagan, stand to Aindriú's left."

"Azai, help Deja push from the front."

In this orientation, with three lifting, one pushing, and one pulling, we manage to get the couch a solid four feet further back.

"Happy?" I ask.

"Sure, your excellency," Aindriú drawls. Azai elbows him.

"Who's the general here?" Azai asks rhetorically. I give him a tiny salute as Aindriú tries again. "Mr. Secretary?"

"Nice try, I already resigned."

"Ummmmm" Aindriú tries to think. He evidently gives up on this as he pulls a list out of his pocket.

"So what else is there?" I ask.

He hand me the list, which reads:
* Seating
* Chips
* Popcorn?
* Drinks
* Signal check
* Inventory

"So, what've you done so far?" I ask, growing impatient.

"Well, all we have left for seating is get the rest of the beanbags, I poured the chips, Azai inventoried the movies," he pauses, "So you know what you need to do?"

I nod before heading to the fridge. Actually, that's not all I do. Of course, I produce my phone out of my pocket, switch on the Bluetooth, and attach it to Aindriú's speaker before shuffling the Hamilton soundtrack on full volume.

As I gather the ingredients for chai-infused hot cocoa, a familiar tune begins to play. Teagan definitely notices, as out of the corner of my eye I can see the boy who is supposed to be setting up extra seats strutting on a path mostly covered by beanbags. He obviously can't resist the urge to sing along much longer.

"I used to hear him say that someday I would," he points at nowhere in particular, hoping someone will oblige to his wishes, and we do.

"Blow us all away!"

He hums contentedly and continues to sing along to the music. I focus back on the task at hand.

"AINDRIÚ! WHERE THE HELL DO YOU KEEP YOUR POTS?!" I shout to the other end of the open-concept lower floor.

"TOP CABINET TO THE LEFT OF THE STOVE!" he responds.

I peer up into the cabinet, and locating what I need, snatch it down and out it on the stove. I pour the milk in to let it boil. In that moment, I think "This would be a really boring point of view to see this story from right now."

(Wow you read this?!? Good job! You are appreciated for supporting your local [or non-local depending on if you live in the southeastern US or not] random insane cat. Thanks for your donation of time.)