GRILLED 🧀 {feat. freddie & ricky}
featuring: @rickymoretti 🗣 location: casa de moretti 🏠 time/date: wednesday, ~6:30pm ⏰ summary: RICKY SAID HE’D GRILL FREDDIE A CHEESE. FREDDIE TOLD RICKY HE’D MAKE HIM WATCH SING. THEY’RE GONNA PRETEND MEETING STRANGERS ON THE INTERNET IN REAL LIFE FOR THE FIRST TIME ISN’T KINDA SCARY. 🐨
FREDDIE HAYWARD
FREDDIE WAS NOT NERVOUS.
Okay. Freddie wasn’t, like, very nervous. Freddie didn’t get nervous easily! It just wasn’t a thing that existed. It wasn’t — how you say, realistic. That certainly wasn’t going to change now.
After all, if he could meet strangers in a pitch black room and have a good time? He could totally meet Ricky and watch the greatest movie of all time and eat the greatest sandwich to come out of bread and cheese and butter. It was a thing. It was totally a thing.
Ricky was cute, Freddie was cute, they were both strangers, and that was it! He could do this.
Ricky wasn’t the first person that Freddie had met off of the app, and Freddie felt that was a reassurance, in a lot of ways. After all, if Ricky was the first person he was meeting off of Wink, he probably wouldn’t have been as keen on agreeing to meet at Ricky’s apartment. Like… that just seemed… sketchy, didn’t it? Like, you were just opening yourself up to getting murdered. You were putting a neon sign over your body and saying BRO DON’T EVEN WORRY ABOUT IT, I’LL COME TO YOU!
BUT, that wasn’t the case! Everyone he’d met so far had been really cool, and he and Ricky had talked a ton, and… and yeah. He didn’t have anything to worry about it. He totally had this under control. Bam.
He hoped.
He only changed his outfit, like, three times before he was following the directions his phone was giving him to get to Ricky’s place, siding his jeep up along the front curb and hopping out, waiting a few seconds before making his way up the front walk. He could have just texted him and said he was there, but this is Freddie we’re talking about here, so obviously Freddie didn’t do that.
Instead, Freddie went right up to the buzzer with all the names of all the residents, and found the handwriting that simply had to be Ricky’s, the name MORETTI!!!!! staring back at him.
“You got this, my dude,” he told himself like a complete dipstick, before reaching out and pressing down on the buzzer. Once it picked up, he spoke again, clearing his throat and giving off his best (terrible) surfer-out-of-a-bad-90s-movie impression. “Yeah, uh… this dude, like, stopped me a couple blocks over and told me to come over here and ask you to grill me a cheese or something. I dunno, brah. But… you got the goods?”
