sonia hinode
Sara slept through three alarms. And then blatantly ignored the fourth. She’d busied herself with eating cereal from her kitchen counter. A wrestling program from several nights prior plays on phone. It’s the fifth alarm that kicks her into action. When they turn to look at their microwave, they see precisely how late they are. Sara curses under her breath. They hurry to pull on their worn jacket and pull their hair back. The soles of their shoes are worn thin, but she cares about none of this in the moment.
By the time she pushes through the door, the rest of their bandmates have been in a deep brainstorming station for new songs. Sara doesn’t think much of it, and rolls their eyes at the mention of her being late.
“I showed up. What does it matter?”
And then, the dark hair from across the table catches their eye. Sara has never been the type to care much for manners or polite behavior. Where someone else might tear their eyes away, Sara becomes fixated.
Underneath her, the chair falls as Sara pushes herself back. “Sonia? Fuck. What the fuck?” They scowl. “What the hell is this? What...what are you doing here?”
@hcark