#ft.mike

“Well, that was...” she trailed off, taking entirely too long to come up with a positive that would sound even remotely genuine. “That was just... so bad.” Nora gave into a snorting laugh as she admitted the truth, glancing to Mike with a regretful wince. “And totally my fault.” In theory, a small showing of short films by local artists sounded like it could’ve been fun, but unfortunately, it stayed as just that -- a theory. If the cheap pull-down projection screen and uncomfortable folding chairs hadn’t been bad enough, the subject matter of the films themselves tipped the scales. Nora had expected amateur acting and stop-motion Lego, but what they got was much more... abstract. After over an hour that managed to feel both awkward and boring, she didn’t even pause to think when the lights were flipped on for intermission, immediately grabbing Mike’s hand to run out the door. No amount of free crackers and Dixie cups of wine could make it worth staying a second longer.

A soft groan came from Nora as she dropped her forehead against Mike’s shoulder. “That’s the last time I ever trust a flyer that looks like it was written in fresh Sharpie,” she announced, waiting another beat before lifting her head again. “Sorry that was such a dud. And just very... very weird. -- I think that five minute close-up of a woman extracting pumpkin guts with her bare hands will haunt me forever.” She shivered at the memory, dramatically shaking out her shoulders.

Frankie could now fully understand how her parents had felt trying to raise all of her siblings and her. She honestly didn’t know how they had managed it without drinking heavily or pulling their hair out. “Actually, Mike,  I could be.” She stated with a roll of her eyes. She wasn’t going to take any crap from the younger teen. “Also I believe Taylor Swift made a song about you.” She shook her the Mean song suddenly stuck in her head as she tried her best to listen to the explanations of what they were supposed to be doing. “Now shut up and listen.” She urged him to listen even if they were all finding it incredibly hard.

@josiebnntt​

“Are you ready for this?” Nora’s eyes were comically wide, making a valiant (but clearly failed) attempt at suppressing her smile as she stepped into Mike’s apartment. She turned and adjusted the strap of her overstuffed messenger bag, being sure to not break eye contact while slowly starting to shake her head. “Because I really don’t think you're prepared in the slightest. Nuh-uh -- nope.” There was a soft pop to the ‘p’ and whatever tiny amount of actual seriousness she’d been managing to project instantly vanished. Instead, a grin took over as she headed for the living room, comfortably dropping back onto the couch. Murder definitely wasn’t the most happy-go-lucky subject out there, but Nora had never been one to pass up on an opportunity to share the weird factoids floating around in her head. This time around, it just happened to lean a little more morbid. “This presentation is just... It’s really gonna blow you away,” she continued, working as her own personal hype man. Setting her bag at her feet, Nora wiggled out her sticker-covered MacBook and set it on her lap, instantly opening a browser window so she could make her way to the knockoff PowerPoint she’d created for Mike’s benefit. “My comedic timing isn’t as fabulous as yours,” Nora said, glancing in his direction with a teasing look. “So I will be accepting critiques on my puns. But only like, three -- that’s the limit for suggestions before I lose it.”