✿

CANON REESE

"Oh, wow," I gawked at the number of dishes laid out on the kitchen table, "I didn't know we were having a feast."

Crawford immediately waved his hand to dismiss the idea. "It's just pasta and toast."

"Just pasta?" I repeated, still awestruck. "You just made three dishes out of 'em."

"No, really, I simply boiled the pasta all at once. I just made three sauces," he chuckled, proceeding to get a pitcher of water from the fridge and setting it on the table, next to the glasses. "Marx and Jett usually prefer oil-based pesto. Nikon likes creamy carbonara and Vinn typically goes for the tomato sauce." He gestured at the well-prepared meal. "Come on, let's eat!" I am rendered speechless. These guys know each other so well.

Sure enough, Marx quietly sat in front of the bowl of pesto while Nikon instantly reached for the carbonara, just as Crawford had predicted. I turned to him as he slightly smacked the back of Vinn's hand who is trying to get a serving of spaghetti, reminding them to let Cassidy and I have some first. I assured him that it is okay but he insisted on asking which type of pasta we prefer and, well, I was not sure because they all looked scrumptious. That is how I wound up with small servings of each of them on my plate. It is not every day that I get to try Crawford's cooking. He, then, proceeded to help Cassidy who chose pesto before indulging Vinn's pleas for spaghetti.

As I tried every single dish Crawford had prepared, I could not help but swoon over him. Normally, I only like cream-based pasta so I went for the carbonara first. The sauce was very silky, the eggs he used were enough, as to not overshadow the other flavors. Hence, I could taste the richness of the pork and cheese.

Moving on to the spaghetti, I must confess that I was not looking forward to this one so much since I have seen the jar of plain tomato sauce that he used in the kitchen. We actually use the same brand back at home and I believe it tastes pretty average. I finally tried a spoonful, not expecting it to be any different only to be proven wrong. Yes, it did taste a bit familiar but there was an extra flavor. I think I could taste a hint of oregano, parsley, and basil. As I forked through the noodles, I even noticed pepper flakes. He tweaked a small aspect yet the flavor changed this much. That is just hands down amazing.

At long last, I stared at the pesto sitting idly on my plate. I normally do not eat pesto, at all costs. They taste so much like leaves to me and, although herbs are also used in making carbonara and spaghetti, those two have either cream or tomato sauce to match them. Simply put, for me, oil-based pesto tastes like grass, very much like tea.

However, if Crawford managed to put a twist on the past two dishes, maybe he could pull off a version of pesto that I might actually like.

I bit back the hesitation and twirled some on my fork. I hardly even brought it close to my mouth and I could already smell the aroma of the crushed ingredients. I have decided not to prolong my agony and just go for it. As I chewed, I could tell that the olive oil tasted buttery-sweet. The taste of basil was mild, which I think is just the right amount for me. It blended perfectly with the taste of garlic and cheese.

The question still stands: do I hate it? No. But do I like it? Well, it still is not my favorite thing in the world but if I had to eat pesto, I would surely prefer to have Crawford's version of it.

I suddenly realized that he has been watching me all this time as I have been taste testing his cooking. My stomach churned at the embarrassment. "You don't like it?" Crawford asked, worried.

"No!" I waved my hand, forgetting that I am holding onto a fork. Hence, I might have spilled a few noodles on the table. "They all taste amazing, I promise. I just... don't normally eat pesto."

Upon hearing that, he looked relieved. "I see."

"But your cooking tastes different," I reassured him, recalling the taste I had just experienced. "You just made me reconsider eating pesto and that's saying a lot, honestly."

He chuckled at my remark. "Well, then, I am honored."

I wonder if there is a place which is looking for a cook? Crawford definitely has some skill. Although, there are not much establishments here. No matter, all we could do now is finish this meal so we could head on out and continue our job search.

"Oh, by the way," I turned to my sister who is quietly enjoying her meal, twirling her fork against the plate, "are you going back to the library? The boys said they used up almost all of their cash so Jett may or may not have any money on him right now." And, as previously mentioned, they cannot use their credit card or else their location might be tracked by their agency. "Unless the coffee stall owner treats him lunch on his first day at work, he'd be starving."

Cassidy pressed her lips together while she thought for a while. Ultimately, she heaved out a sigh. "I'll bring him some food, then. It's too hot in here so I was planning to cool off at the library, anyway."

"Cool, I'll pack him some pesto. Canon surely won't mind," Crawford teased with my now renowned dislike for most pesto. Laughing, he stood up from his seat to prepare Jett's meal.

My interactions with the band feel so... domestic. I know it has not even been a day since we met but it already feels like... home.

✿

Time flew by fast and we have almost covered the whole stretch of this town. The boys looked defeated despite the enthusiasm they have exhibited earlier.

For the past four hours, we left no stone unturned. However, every business owner we encountered so far has told us that they cannot afford to hire an extra person as most businesses here are family-owned and relatively small.

As we walked by the beach, we could only marvel at the navy sky, stained with red orange hues.

"It's beautiful," Vinn uttered, completely captivated by the sight. since it has grown relatively darker, he has removed the magnetic black film on his glasses, enabling him to see the hues of the sky in its entirety.

The boys fixated their gaze on the horizon, seemingly lost in their own worlds. I thought it would be best not to disrupt their trail of thoughts so we just stood there, waiting for the sun to set.

Vinn has already taken his slippers off, feeling the warm, grainy sand beneath his feet while he leisurely strolled around. Nikon picked up a stick he found lying on the beach and started drawing on the sand. Crawford went towards the shore, soaking his feet as the waters come in little waves. Marx went with him, picking up flat pebbles and throwing them towards the sea so he could watch them skip off the surface.

I could not help but wish I could do more for them. It feels heavy, not being able to help the very persons who, all these years, have done nothing but reel you out of the ocean of despair.

Maybe I could convince Cassidy to let the boys stay at our old home. I know it is a long shot but I could try. Ron lives next door, anyway, he can keep an eye on them and our house. Does that sound convincing enough?

As for the money... As much as I would like to lend them some cash, I am honestly broke right now. It is the only time I have ever come close to thinking that I regret spending so much on the band's merchandise.

"Uh, guys?" Collectively, we turned to Nikon who is visibly confused as he marched around the beach. "Does anyone know why I'm being followed by a chicken?" He asked, glancing right behind him, where a small, white hen is trudging close. Nikon even tried sprinting away but the chicken still pursued him. It did not take a while until he passed out on the sand in exhaustion, allowing the bird to catch up to him. "Hello, chickie. What are you doing here?" He stroked its head a little. "Are you lost?"

We all gathered around him to get a closer look. The hen had a purple ribbon tied to its leg.

"I'll go ask around right over there," Nikon held the hen in his arms, got up and headed for the little homes along the beach. Almost automatically, we all trailed behind him. "Hey, kids," he approached a pair of children playing beach volleyball in front of a house.

"Bird," the younger one said, dropping the ball she held in her short arms and pointing right at the chicken in Nikon's grasp. Her big eyes were filled with wonder and her buck teeth were exposed as her jaw dropped in awe.

The ball she was holding onto rolled towards Marx's feet. He bent down to pick it up but as he tried to hand it over, a boy who is a little older than the girl stepped towards her in a protective manner. Marx quietly put the ball down once again.

"Bird!" The little girl chimed once more, extending her arm out.

"Lily, no," he put her hand down. "Ma and pa would be mad."

"It's okay," Nikon smiled before he bent down to match the children's eye level. "Do you want to touch it?" He then proceeded to stroke the chicken's head once again.

"Bird," the little girl whose name is Lily, I assume, chanted once again, her arm automatically reaching out. Before the older boy could stop her, she had already placed her small hand on the chicken's head. She let out a scream when the bird flinched.

"You have to be gentle," Nikon instructed, holding up his index finger to demonstrate. "Just do it lightly, like this."

Lily glanced at the boy standing next to him as if to ask for approval. After seeing her puppy eyes, the young boy gave in. She lifted her index finger and attempted to stroke the hen. She was filled with delight when the chicken relaxed at her touch. "Pretty bird."

"Yes, very pretty," Nikon agreed animatedly as if he was trying to speak the children's language. "This pretty bird keeps following me, look!" He carefully placed the chicken on the sand and walked around a couple of times. Lo and behold, the hen kept trailing him. "See?"

The children looked in wonder.

Nikon went to pick the chicken up once more and pet its head. "I don't know who its owner is. They must be sad since their pretty bird is missing." He showed the kids the purple tag on the hen's leg, "Do you know who owns it?"

The little girl nodded instantly, much to her elder brother's surprise.

"You do?" Nikon asked, smiling happily.

"Yes!" She pointed her small finger at herself. "Lily!"

The young boy stepped behind her, made an 'X' with his arms and shook his head furiously, causing us to erupt into pits of laughter at their silly antics. Lily must have really wanted to keep the chicken to herself.

"Really?" Nikon said in a sing-song voice, "Pretty bird doesn't like liars. Is Lily sure this is Lily's pretty bird?" He tried to hold in his laughter, only barely managing to mask it with a pout.

"Um..." She avoided Nikon's gaze, fiddled with her fingers and kept rocking back and forth on her heels. "Lily likes pretty bird."

"Yes, I'm sure Lily likes the pretty bird," Nikon replied, amused. "But is this Lily's pretty bird?"

She took a quick glance at Nikon before looking down and mumbling, "No."

"Ah, so cute." Nikon scrunched his nose and smile widely at her. "I have to bring pretty bird to its real owner or else they'd be sad, right?" To this, the little girl nodded with her bottom lip stuck out.

"We should ask ma and pa if they know," the elder brother volunteered, "They're friends with some farmers." He held Lily by the hand and ushered her towards their home. Not long after, a man around his late 30's stepped out of the door.

"Hello, Sir," Nikon politely greeted, "I don't mean to intrude but this chicken kept following me, I was wondering if you know who the owner is." He held the hen and showed its leg, "It has a purple tag."

"Ah, don't worry. Although, I heard from my son that my daughter tried to keep it," the man laughed at the thought. "I'm not sure who puts purple tags on their chickens. If I remember correctly, my friends whose farms are around here use red and orange ones."

"I see," Nikon nodded and politely added, "Thank you."

"Tourists? The lot of you?" The man asked, eyeing the group.

"Not exactly," I interjected immediately. "We used to live here before, actually. We moved to the city but we decided to spend the summer back here." I mean, that is not exactly a lie. We really did live here. By that, I meant Cassidy and I, not the boys. "I'm Carol and David's daughter," I added. I believe he might know them since our town is small and my parents were pretty social.

"Carol and David from Primrose?" The man asked, even mentioning the name of the street we live in. "Next to Chief Collins?"

"Ah, yes," I nodded. Chief Collins is Ron's dad, he is in charge of keeping the peace and safety of this town.

"I see. Are your folks doing well? The last I've seen 'em was years ago." The man laughed, bending down to pick up the ball his children abandoned earlier. "I used to compete with your dad on who catches the biggest fish." He walked towards a boat that has been sitting in front of their home and untangled a large net which I have seen the kids tug at earlier while they were playing catch, perhaps as a makeshift volleyball net. "I don't remember Carol and David having a bunch of sons, though." He eyed the boys, "Or maybe I just wasn't invited to the baptism."

"Um, no, they're my friends, actually," I had to clarify, "they tagged along."

"Yes, we're uh..." Nikon cleared his throat as he stepped closer to help the man with the net. "We're actually looking for part-time jobs. Uh, do you... do you need help with anything?"

The man laughed as if Nikon suggested something unworldly.

"I don't make a lot of money from fishing, son," he commented as he tidied up the net. "I can't afford a helper."

"No, we don't need money," Nikon pleaded, surprising us all. "I don't know how to phrase it... uh, our parents... gave us a challenge. To spend the rest of vacation without their, uh, financial... support. So we've been trying to get jobs." He turned to us and we immediately backed up his claims. "But we don't necessarily need money... I could, uh, I could help you fish and in exchange... maybe you could spare us some?"

The man looked at him, dubious. He, then, turned to me. "Do Carol and David know you lot are here? Seems to me like you, kids, ran away from home."

My voice almost got lodged in my throat. "No, Sir. We just... got a long lecture on spending our own money and fending for ourselves." I do not even know where I picked up the courage to tell him that. One thing is for sure, he could see through our lies. Whether he lets it pass or not depends solely on him.

"Please, Sir." Even in the dusk, one could see the glint of passion in Nikon's eyes as he pleaded. "We're desperate."

His cheerfulness from when he was talking to the children earlier vanished and was replaced with distress. He must have been feeling restless, not being able to find a job despite us searching through the majority of the town already.

"I can help, too," Crawford volunteered, finally stepping forward.

"Same here," Marx raised his hand as well.

"It's alright, kids," the man chuckled to himself, "there is no need to bring three extra pairs of hands on the boat."

Nikon let out a silent 'ah' and sulked quietly in disappointment.

"Just one extra pair is enough," the man tapped on Nikon's shoulder which seemed to have brought him back to life. "What do you say, kid? You gotta wake up pretty early every morning but I'd give you plenty of fish enough for everyone to share."

"You got yourself a deal, Sir!" Nikon gladly shook the man's hand. "Thank you, Sir."

"Just call me Frank," the man introduced himself. He glanced at our group and chuckled to himself, "You sure are an interesting lot."

A world-class band hiding away in a small town? It sure is interesting.

✿

"Hey," Cassidy glanced over her shoulder to greet us when we arrived home, "how'd the job hunting go?" She stood in front of the kitchen counter, helping Jett pack up the marinated barbecue. Earlier, we have decided on spending dinner at the beach, as per Cassidy's suggestion.

Having explained that we have not found any job vacancy, hence, resulting to Nikon volunteering as a fisherman's helper for exchange of fish and not money, the two just nodded in response.

"That's great thinking," Jett remarked approvingly. "Although, I didn't know you could fish." The comment was understandable, considering that these boys have known each other for years. They probably know each other just as much as real brothers do.

"I guess we'll know when Uncle Frank and I go sailing tomorrow," Nikon smiled sheepishly.

"He said to just call him Frank," Marx commented at the youngest's words.

"Yeah but it just sounds weird," Nikon shrugged at the thought. "He's probably the same age as my dad, it sounds disrespectful calling him by his first name."

"Um," Cassidy held up his hand, calling for everyone's attention. She extended her arm to point at Nikon's arms, "You all see the chicken, too, right?"

As for the pretty bird, we gave up looking for its owner after asking around a couple of houses. We intended to leave it free-roaming around the beach or the street, hoping it would find its way back home but it just kept following Nikon around, all the way to our house.

"I guess we're keeping her for now," Nikon stroked the hen's head.

"If anything happens, at least we could have fried chicken for lunch," Cassidy commented which sent Nikon running towards the opposite side of the room, the pretty bird safely tucked into his chest. "Relax, I was joking," she rolled her eyes at the boy, "We could just eat its eggs."

"No! That's just like eating a baby chicken!" Nikon embraced the pretty bird defensively, "Oh, now I feel bad for eating eggs... and chicken... and meat." He adjusted his stance and tilted his head to the left. "Why do I have a strong urge to become a vegetarian now?"

"Relax, not all eggs turn into chickens," Marx patted the younger on its shoulder.

Nikon blinked his pretty doe eyes at the comment. "Wait, what?"

"Some eggs are unfertilized," Marx explained with a shrug. He noticed the confusion on Nikon's face so he elaborated further. "You know, eggs only hatch into chicks if they were made by, uh... by chicken... lovers?" He frowned at the phrase, "But hens lay eggs even without, uh... rooster love. Those ones don't have chicks in them."

"Oh." Nikon tilted his head towards the other side as he processed what he had just heard. "I didn't know that. I always thought all eggs hatch into chicks so I was always afraid to cook them, I thought a baby chick might come out instead. That's kind of one of my biggest fears... right after the, uh... the microwave."

"Okay, I'm not even gonna ask." Cassidy finished packing up the food into containers. She clapped her hands and asked, "Shall we?"

"Alright, I'm famished." Jett excitedly headed out of the house, a tote bag filled with drinks slung over one shoulder. The other boys each helped carry the food containers, matches, a bunch of branches we picked up earlier, and even our old grill that Cassidy spent a while on scrubbing clean.

Never in my life have I imagined spending my summer like this, but now that it is here... I kind of wish it never ends.

✿

Author's Note:

I'm hungry. What's your favorite type of pasta?

✿

FEATURE OF THE DAY:

Have I featured B1A4 on here before? I'm not even sure anymore and I'm too lazy to backread. But anyway, I really, really love Like a Movie.

https://youtu.be/sv53BwhUTC0

And, of course, what is LovE?

https://youtu.be/_heHdgIs-BQ

They debuted in April 2011 but they never lost their sound. Like, there's something in their music that I could not pinpoint exactly but when I heard the latest songs from their latest comeback (November 2020, I think), I just went "this is them, this is B1a4".

Their other iconic songs include:

https://youtu.be/x67c_lYqTQ8

https://youtu.be/aYru067971M

https://youtu.be/tBUDRysyuMI

Honestly, I could place their whole discography here. Just go and look them up yourselves, I promise you would not be disappointed.

If you know any artist you like and appreciate and would like to share them with us, feel free to message me.