"Come off it"...

You it is not quite "you" any longer... Not something individual... Not a small planet that floating in space by itself... still grumbling, angry, ready to bite at once everything that flies by and threatens the freedom she has set for herself as a necessity of existence... But the empty space around and the way in which she followed without deviating to any degree are changed now... She was attracted to something very big and strange, in spite of all the habits orbiting the main planet with simple name Connor...

A planet? Never! Maybe you'd even say "a star"? Maybe he's just a "maniac who irons his jeans"... Well, for example, his car... Good wheels indeed... But it's much cleaner and well-groomed than the flatlet you have to live in... There's no garbage... there's no dust... No stickers with big-tits-pin-up-girls, footballs and boxing gloves hanging under the rear view mirror, specially created to entertain dull hacks, swaying back and forth and echoing-contradicting the oscillating movement... Canonically clean car... it's good and peaceful to be here... As if someone was rocking you to sleep and singing something completely unfamiliar to your ear... One could spend the whole life like this... Watching hands with golden fluff that surely lie on the steering circle: as usual, slightly nonchalantly and very attentively... They always do their job well, even if they don't consider it too interesting for themselves...

Something's happening in a fish tank... like a slow little fish you're coming up from one of your observations and lowering to another...

Your younger sister... She's nice... One of the few whom you're tied in this world... Companion in getting box on the ear and shouts simply because "something's going wrong in mother's life"... After this very planet has appeared in the world of yours, she cheered up and revived… she [the same way it happened to you] has been noticed for the first time... just like that... just because the fact that, if you've been born into this world, it should be at least one person out there who will look back, when you'll be passing by, and who will want to answer, if you'll make up your mind to speak with him...

Connor becoming immediately involved in any game offered by Tyler... even for a little while, even "on the run", but never denying it... This strange experience and patience in dealing with the getting-up-to-mischief girl warming, touching and surprising you...

It's easy to get used to the lack of kindness… harder to get out of this habit...

- You should've at least had a shave.
- Why's that?
- It would be more respectful for me.
- What, you don't like this?
- No. Too hairy.






He critically examines himself in the mirror and stroking light bristle on the chin... He, obviously, liked captiousness of the youngest Dame... Maybe this reminded him something… Maybe in that-his-other-life there were women that didn’t always agree with the minimum he wanted to offer them, and not he was always disagree with this fact... It seems this guess is right… Clearly this guy doesn't need a blind adoration... On Joanne's assurances that he already looks 'good' Connor throws short 'thank you", giving to understand that this compliment is far from victorious football goal... You're feeling uncomfortable... and Tyler is annoying you more than usual... she could just be silent for a while... especially because this 'designer stubble' doesn't hamper anyone... This is the best stubble in the world... Perhaps, there's nowhere and no one who would look more handsome than this guy with his stubble...

Through the car windows even familiar blueness of the sky seems brighter, and you're reconciling with dreary suburban picture of the city, by the way, the sun is tickling the tip of your nose, and you're squinting... and thoughts are flying back and forth in the head, and you feel unreasonably good... Let everything go... Let everything float... Banging on each other the plastic CD-boxes, carelessly thrown by Joanne from one corner of the board to another...

- Come off it...

Connor's voice even if not irritated but 'not glad' one, this is for sure... The attempts of new girlfriend to deal with his things like she's one of their owners are clearly don't make him happy... In the fish tank from which he swam into yours his likings were giving much more respect or, at least, people around him were quite well-mannered to follow the rules of conduct that are obvious to him...

Hoity-toity! You shrug in your mind: what is so special in the fact that bored Joanne decided to make it hot with stirring tunes and called the whole Connor’s CDs arsenal a weird shit? If you really like woman, it's really important whether she likes the music you listen to? But Connor’s irony is obvious… underestimation of something important, the one that he thinks so much deserving attention and respect from every normal human being seems to him unforgivable… even worse: an ignorant, tasteless laziness... He can't even find the right words to make it clear how much all of you've disappointed him... None of you have any objections on his promise to "educate you, girls"... For someone it will seem a banal playful chatter, but in someone this arouses a quiet joy... "So, he'll stay for a little while... at least, not vanish in the air just right now..."

His fingers slightly strumming the rhythm on the leather steering... low voice echoes old melody and you're very sorry that you've never heard this duo... Connor and Bobby Womack... Bobby Womak and Connor... 'mummy' Joanne coquettishly rocking lit cigarette, trying to crack hardy with all her might... "Don't doubt me, I really understand, darling... it's a cool, just a banging-up sound... I'm absolutely in..."

to be continued...