Lost Child.

The noise sometimes stops, but nothing is certain. Sometimes they don't.
Echoes in my head.

I typed slowly, my fingers following the rhythm of the thumping bass. More often than not, it rings in my head, right after I woke up from my seldom peaceful slumber, before I wash my face or brush my teeth. When I like a song, I like it, probably a little too much. When I hate something as well, it's not very different either.

And right now I hate myself. For putting myself in this situation.

Things can be worse, of course. Thankfully they're not. But it can be better, and I regret how I didn't even try to work on that.

I barely floss. Maybe that's why the dentist took two of my molar, and working his way towards convincing me on the third. Anaesthetic and medical bill aside, I just don't like the idea of this person prodding inside my mouth yet again. Nothing personal.

I clenched my left fist, eyes closed. This was the best part.

In an interstellar buuuuurrrsssttt

My molar-deprived gums felt a gust of air brushing inside.

I'm back to save the uuuuuuniiiiveeeerseeee

I do wish I have the capability. I wish I could stop saying that. I'm part of the universe, anyway, why fret?

"How long have you been standing there?" I removed my earphone as the music finished.

"Two hours." The figure by the doorframe answered.

"I've only been here for ten minutes."

"Okay, two minutes then."

"My voice is that good?"

"I'd pay for the lipsync, but don't push your luck."

"Thank you. Now, what do you want?"

"A good night's sleep and acne-free face."

"But that's me."

"Then we both want the same thing."

"Where is this conversation going, anyway?"

"I dunno, ask the audience, maybe?"

"Fifty-fifty?"

"Okay, let's stop here."

"You started it."

"Fair enough."

"Now will you excuse me I'm quite busy at the moment."

"Lip-syncing?"

"The album hasn't ended yet."

"I figure so." She walked closer and put an envelope on my desk.

"Tomorrow?" I asked.

"Yeah. Good luck." She headed out.

Alone once again. Playback resume. One click, two clicks. A few typing here and there. I took another sip from my mug, set it down, and open the envelope. You never know how hopes and fears can come from a sheet of paper.