1 views
Impromptu [2]
Kudret couldn't resist. The taxi continued onwards, rumbling quietly beneath their feet. Natia had placed her backpack on the middle seat between them, and now stared out of the window deep in contemplation. Deciding to put his stealth skills to work, Kudret began rifling through the bag’s pockets in his desperate search for some goddamn bobby pins.
His quest was rudely interrupted by a bewildered,
“Dude, what the fuck are you doing?” from Natia.
Kudret froze, a tin of breath mints, 3 scrunchies, and a zipped pouch of bobby pins sitting in his guilty hands.
“I, uh, I wanted to fix your hair,” he stammered. “I mean, I wanted to fix it during our conversation before but… I was being a good friend and not saying anything?”
Silence.
The space between Natia’s eyebrows furrowed as she self-consciously touched her hair.
“What's wrong with my hair?” she asked.
And, look, Kudret was nothing if not honest.
“It looks… Sad. That was my first thought before. You were being all ‘people put me in a box’ as your hair drooped sadly too,” admitted.
More silence.
Hesitantly, Kudret offered, “I knew I could fix it with a few bobby pins, and I knew you kept bobby pins in your bag… Being the excellent friend I am, though, I refrained from mentioning it in the moment.” He paired his explanation with a sheepish smile, desperate to be forgiven.
Natia huffed an amused laugh. She gestured to the items in his hands, “Okay, that explains the bobby pins. What about the scrunchies and mints, though?”
Ah. Dammit.
“U-hm…” Kudret floundered for an excuse. When absolutely no ideas sprang to mind, he decided to admit the truth.
“Well, I mean, the scrunchies are mine now. You never wear them. I love the patterns… And my mint supply is running low?” He hoped his wide, innocent smile would help him get away with it.
“I'm not a fucking store, Kudret!” Natia laughed.
It was good to see her laugh. It proved that she really was loosening up after their tense conversation. Kudret may have progressed past his unhealthy need to ensure everyone liked him, but his insecurity haunted his close friendships love a vengeful ex. Look, he knew he could be a catty, petty bastard. He could admit it. Kudret’s barbs were never ill-intentioned, especially with his friends. The fiery verbal onslaught was how he demonstrated comfort and safety in his friendships.
So, to Kudret, there was no pain that quite matched that which stemmed from his friends being frustrated or upset at him for something he said.
Natia wasn't upset, thankfully. She was laughing. Her hazel eyes shined as they caught the window reflection. She’d found his antics amusing, if a little confusing.
He could work with that.
“Whatever, keep the scrunchies. You're right, I don't use them… I do want my mints back, though. You may keep one,” Natia conceded.
Kudret popped a mint into his mouth and hummed as he placed the tin back where it belonged. He paused as he considered the bobby pins. He looked up to meet Natia’s eyes, eyebrow quirked in a silent question.
She rolled her eyes and smiled, “Fine, you can fix my ‘sad’ hair.”
Kudret’s responding grin stretched over his face as he eagerly extended his arms towards his project.
+++++
The karaoke bar was packed. Not quite the ideal environment Kudret had hoped for this recovering singer friend.
He glanced over at Natia. His eyes narrowed on her hands, frantically rubbing her thumb against the side of her pointer finger in a nervous attempt to self-soothe.
Okay. Not ideal.
Kudret took Natia’s hand and led the pair confidently over to one of the occupied booths. The amorous couple occupying it seemed more interested in mapping the interior of each other’s mouths than paying attention to the happenings around them.
Kudret cleared his throat pointedly. He held no qualms about appearing like a bitch.
“Excuse me, perhaps you could take this to a room or dark alley like civilised people?”
The blonde woman retracted her tongue from down her partner’s throat and threw Kudret a poisonous glare,
“Fuck off.”
Oh ho! A challenge! Kudret grinned icily. Elsa had nothing on him.
“Love the suggestion, but unlike you, I’m here tonight to be a patron of this bar - not to get my holes filled,” he maintained his intimidating smile as the blonde’s facial expression morphed to outrage.
“All power to you, girl,” he continued, “But if you’re into exhibitionism, you need consenting voyeurs. Maybe in a different context, we could’ve fit the bill, but not tonight. Take your hot’n’heavy somewhere else, please and thanks.”
The blonde rolled her eyes and tugged her partner up and away from the space. Kudret decided to ignore the muttered insult of ‘prick’ directed at him. He was an adult. He was only petty to strangers in dire situations. He was an excellent friend.
Kudret slid into the booth opposite Natia. He met her astounded expression with a cocked eyebrow,
“Don’t say I never do anything for you.”
“I didn’t ask you to kick that couple out!” she sputtered.
His eyebrow simply rose even further, “Please. You needed to sit down before you passed out or ran out on me.”
Natia cast her eyes to the table and began ripping apart a napkin. Classic avoidance tactics. Kudret had spent enough of his life as a patient in therapy to notice the avoidant behaviour. He extended a hand to gently rest over his friend’s frantically moving ones.
“Natia,” he called gently. Finally seeing those familiar hazel eyes meet his own, Kudret continued, “I get that this is a MASSIVE step for you. I’m not going to push you further than you want to go.”
His friend smiled gratefully.
“I’m going to sing tonight,” he shared. “Do I hold a candle to your voice? Not in the slightest. But I fucking enjoy singing. I love singing songs that make me FEEL something. Fuck the audience. I mean, look at that guy on stage, now,” Kudret gestured to the small stage at the back of the bar.
The man currently standing under the spotlight was belting along, off-key, to ‘Piano Man’ by Billy Joel. His arm was raised above his head and waving slowly along to the beat. The audience clapped, hooted, and hollered their approval of the man’s passion.
“Can’t sing for shit. And yet, you can tell he fucking loves this song. Everyone here respects passion. And, sure,” he admitted, “there are always a couple of assholes who might sit there and make fun amongst themselves. But you know what? They are insignificant compared to the people willing and WANTING to acknowledge the passion that goes into the performance.”
The two friends people-watched the crowd for a few silent moments. They watched the audience cheer the tone-deaf, passionate performer, and side-eye the hecklers.
Kudret’s voice broke their silence, “I signed up to sing a song,” he explained. “If you’re not comfortable with performing tonight, I’ll accept you as my cheer section when I’m onstage. If you feel up to it though…” he paused, “I’d love to sing a duet with you, or be your cheerleader.”
Natia continued her silence as she fell deep in thought. Kudret’s name was called, and it was with great hesitation that he slid from the booth and left her.
He stepped onto the stage and closed his eyes in preparation for the performance. As the first chords of the intro began to play, he opened his eyes to search the crowd. Upon failing to spot Natia, his stomach dropped.
A hand on his shoulder jolted him back into reality. He turned around to see Natia’s face, smiling shyly. A grin quickly took over his own face as he smiled back at her.
She whispered, “I’ve got the first verse.”
With a wink in solidarity, Natia raised the trembling microphone to her lips and faced the crowd. Her mouth opened. The first - glorious - words flowed from her mouth like a prayer, and Kudret watched in unadulterated joy as she sang her way out of her self-imposed box.
© O.M.A
Note: @sim2904 ask and you shall receive :)
#shortstory #story #humour #friendship #relationships #confidence #writco #writcoapp #lgbtq #lgbtqcommunity
His quest was rudely interrupted by a bewildered,
“Dude, what the fuck are you doing?” from Natia.
Kudret froze, a tin of breath mints, 3 scrunchies, and a zipped pouch of bobby pins sitting in his guilty hands.
“I, uh, I wanted to fix your hair,” he stammered. “I mean, I wanted to fix it during our conversation before but… I was being a good friend and not saying anything?”
Silence.
The space between Natia’s eyebrows furrowed as she self-consciously touched her hair.
“What's wrong with my hair?” she asked.
And, look, Kudret was nothing if not honest.
“It looks… Sad. That was my first thought before. You were being all ‘people put me in a box’ as your hair drooped sadly too,” admitted.
More silence.
Hesitantly, Kudret offered, “I knew I could fix it with a few bobby pins, and I knew you kept bobby pins in your bag… Being the excellent friend I am, though, I refrained from mentioning it in the moment.” He paired his explanation with a sheepish smile, desperate to be forgiven.
Natia huffed an amused laugh. She gestured to the items in his hands, “Okay, that explains the bobby pins. What about the scrunchies and mints, though?”
Ah. Dammit.
“U-hm…” Kudret floundered for an excuse. When absolutely no ideas sprang to mind, he decided to admit the truth.
“Well, I mean, the scrunchies are mine now. You never wear them. I love the patterns… And my mint supply is running low?” He hoped his wide, innocent smile would help him get away with it.
“I'm not a fucking store, Kudret!” Natia laughed.
It was good to see her laugh. It proved that she really was loosening up after their tense conversation. Kudret may have progressed past his unhealthy need to ensure everyone liked him, but his insecurity haunted his close friendships love a vengeful ex. Look, he knew he could be a catty, petty bastard. He could admit it. Kudret’s barbs were never ill-intentioned, especially with his friends. The fiery verbal onslaught was how he demonstrated comfort and safety in his friendships.
So, to Kudret, there was no pain that quite matched that which stemmed from his friends being frustrated or upset at him for something he said.
Natia wasn't upset, thankfully. She was laughing. Her hazel eyes shined as they caught the window reflection. She’d found his antics amusing, if a little confusing.
He could work with that.
“Whatever, keep the scrunchies. You're right, I don't use them… I do want my mints back, though. You may keep one,” Natia conceded.
Kudret popped a mint into his mouth and hummed as he placed the tin back where it belonged. He paused as he considered the bobby pins. He looked up to meet Natia’s eyes, eyebrow quirked in a silent question.
She rolled her eyes and smiled, “Fine, you can fix my ‘sad’ hair.”
Kudret’s responding grin stretched over his face as he eagerly extended his arms towards his project.
+++++
The karaoke bar was packed. Not quite the ideal environment Kudret had hoped for this recovering singer friend.
He glanced over at Natia. His eyes narrowed on her hands, frantically rubbing her thumb against the side of her pointer finger in a nervous attempt to self-soothe.
Okay. Not ideal.
Kudret took Natia’s hand and led the pair confidently over to one of the occupied booths. The amorous couple occupying it seemed more interested in mapping the interior of each other’s mouths than paying attention to the happenings around them.
Kudret cleared his throat pointedly. He held no qualms about appearing like a bitch.
“Excuse me, perhaps you could take this to a room or dark alley like civilised people?”
The blonde woman retracted her tongue from down her partner’s throat and threw Kudret a poisonous glare,
“Fuck off.”
Oh ho! A challenge! Kudret grinned icily. Elsa had nothing on him.
“Love the suggestion, but unlike you, I’m here tonight to be a patron of this bar - not to get my holes filled,” he maintained his intimidating smile as the blonde’s facial expression morphed to outrage.
“All power to you, girl,” he continued, “But if you’re into exhibitionism, you need consenting voyeurs. Maybe in a different context, we could’ve fit the bill, but not tonight. Take your hot’n’heavy somewhere else, please and thanks.”
The blonde rolled her eyes and tugged her partner up and away from the space. Kudret decided to ignore the muttered insult of ‘prick’ directed at him. He was an adult. He was only petty to strangers in dire situations. He was an excellent friend.
Kudret slid into the booth opposite Natia. He met her astounded expression with a cocked eyebrow,
“Don’t say I never do anything for you.”
“I didn’t ask you to kick that couple out!” she sputtered.
His eyebrow simply rose even further, “Please. You needed to sit down before you passed out or ran out on me.”
Natia cast her eyes to the table and began ripping apart a napkin. Classic avoidance tactics. Kudret had spent enough of his life as a patient in therapy to notice the avoidant behaviour. He extended a hand to gently rest over his friend’s frantically moving ones.
“Natia,” he called gently. Finally seeing those familiar hazel eyes meet his own, Kudret continued, “I get that this is a MASSIVE step for you. I’m not going to push you further than you want to go.”
His friend smiled gratefully.
“I’m going to sing tonight,” he shared. “Do I hold a candle to your voice? Not in the slightest. But I fucking enjoy singing. I love singing songs that make me FEEL something. Fuck the audience. I mean, look at that guy on stage, now,” Kudret gestured to the small stage at the back of the bar.
The man currently standing under the spotlight was belting along, off-key, to ‘Piano Man’ by Billy Joel. His arm was raised above his head and waving slowly along to the beat. The audience clapped, hooted, and hollered their approval of the man’s passion.
“Can’t sing for shit. And yet, you can tell he fucking loves this song. Everyone here respects passion. And, sure,” he admitted, “there are always a couple of assholes who might sit there and make fun amongst themselves. But you know what? They are insignificant compared to the people willing and WANTING to acknowledge the passion that goes into the performance.”
The two friends people-watched the crowd for a few silent moments. They watched the audience cheer the tone-deaf, passionate performer, and side-eye the hecklers.
Kudret’s voice broke their silence, “I signed up to sing a song,” he explained. “If you’re not comfortable with performing tonight, I’ll accept you as my cheer section when I’m onstage. If you feel up to it though…” he paused, “I’d love to sing a duet with you, or be your cheerleader.”
Natia continued her silence as she fell deep in thought. Kudret’s name was called, and it was with great hesitation that he slid from the booth and left her.
He stepped onto the stage and closed his eyes in preparation for the performance. As the first chords of the intro began to play, he opened his eyes to search the crowd. Upon failing to spot Natia, his stomach dropped.
A hand on his shoulder jolted him back into reality. He turned around to see Natia’s face, smiling shyly. A grin quickly took over his own face as he smiled back at her.
She whispered, “I’ve got the first verse.”
With a wink in solidarity, Natia raised the trembling microphone to her lips and faced the crowd. Her mouth opened. The first - glorious - words flowed from her mouth like a prayer, and Kudret watched in unadulterated joy as she sang her way out of her self-imposed box.
© O.M.A
Note: @sim2904 ask and you shall receive :)
#shortstory #story #humour #friendship #relationships #confidence #writco #writcoapp #lgbtq #lgbtqcommunity
