Living With the Boy Who Hated Me
I allowed my lower legs to dangle rhythmically against the cabinetry as I masticated my food, gradually finding myself somewhat leaning into the intense, percussive energy of the music vibrating through the drywall. Letting my eyelids slip shut, I began softly humming along with the familiar vocal stylings of a popular pop anthem detailing the predictable errors of welcoming a dangerous presence into one's life.
"How did you know I'm trouble?"
A low, resonant, incredibly dark timbre vibrated through the air, laced with undeniable amusement, originating from a coordinates shockingly close to my physical ear.