you oughta know.

location: the blue ox

"thanks again for letting me drag you along. i owe you one." though she loved discovering new artists to feature on her show and supporting local legends, there were a thousand other places arden would rather be than at the blue ox on one of their busy nights. the building was nearly at capacity, so much so the air around them felt too thick to breathe and the first act hadn't even stepped on stage yet. the blonde turned her attention to the poor soul she'd managed to convince to spend their tuesday night with her and smiled. "drinks first? my treat, obviously."

The morning finds Kyle at Redwood Roots, never quite at home in a supermarket, always subconsciously longing for the exit. He gazes dissociatively at the options in the cereal aisle: every other box offering more protein, more fiber, less sugar, less gluten, grain free, microplastics free and nuclear radiation free. Maybe if he checks the fine print it'll promise him more than 4 hours of sleep and a healed relationship with his parents. He sets his basket down (contents: a tin of dark roast coffee and a single croissant, not in paper bag) and gazes into the abyss de céréales.

He spots one single, non-pretentious, radioactively colorful box of cereal in the corner. As he moves to grab it, he realizes someone else is doing the very same. "Oh. You go ahead," he offers. He's in checkered pyjama pants, long ones tucked into his worn Doc Marten boots. The tshirt peeking out of his zip up hoodie reads, white print on black: Don't bully me I'll cum. And he most likely has forgotten that fact. He looks down at his shirt and then back up at the person, connecting dots. "My grandma knitted it."