Lady - Hear Me Tonight

Ozzie tapped his foot in unison to the music, fiddling with his glasses as he looked himself in the mirror.

“Anyone would think you have a date, nipotine,” Achille joked, sorting out the last of the papers, “Do you?”

“If this was a date, I’d dress to impress!” Ozzie laughed, “No, I have a friend coming round.”

“Which friend?”

Ozzie rolled his eyes, “I’m not a child, Achille, I don’t need you to be overprotective now.”

“Nonsense!” Achille laughed, “You always need protection, nipotine!”

“Ok, ok,” Ozzie smiled, “Wicker is coming over tonight.”

“Wicker, the friend of yours who owns the record shop?”

“Yes, I only know one Wicker, after all.”

“Ah, you’ll be fine then!”

Ozzie put his hands on his hips, “And what is that supposed to mean?”

Achille looked down at his watch, “Would you look at the time, I need to go!”

“Of course you do,” Ozzie laughed, pushing Achille lightly, “Shoo, shoo!”

“I’m going, I’m going!” Achille walked out the door with a laugh, “Good luck on your date!”

“It’s still not a date!” Ozzie yelled back, shutting the door with a huff.

Ozzie walked away, humming the vague tune of ‘You’re The One That I Want’ — god, he needed to watch Grease again! Maybe he could convince Wicker to watch it with him, he was sure he had the tape somewhere around here.

That, however, would have to wait.

With a slight skip in his step, he made his way to the kitchen. He had about twenty-five minutes until Wicker got to his house, and the meal took about twenty minutes, so he was ahead of schedule; which was a rarity for him.

Opening the door to the kitchen, he internally sighed in happiness as he remembered he had already pre-prepped everything — which was also a rarity for him.

Tonight was creamy carbonara, and he was very sure Wicker could eat that; he had been very careful in asking him if he could. Ingredient by ingredient.

You know, when he put it like that, it was definitely a lot of effort for a friendly hangout.

The only thing he had to substitute was the smoked pancetta, it wasn’t very good on his kidneys, especially after his good year or two of straight partying. He was hoping Wicker would be ok with unsmoked bacon. He was sure they wouldn’t even notice.

He was also hoping that he hadn’t misremembered and Wicker could eat the food. He had checked everything through the recipes he knew, he was sure of it.

He didn’t know why he was worrying so much, after all he was sure Wicker wouldn’t mind. Wicker didn’t seem like the kind of person to mind.

In his worry, he had practically been working on autopilot to make the food. He had made this so many times, for his zii, that it was practically second nature to him. Giovanni liked creamy carbonara, hell, it was his recipe. He had taught it to Ozzie when he was 15.

He found himself tossing the carbonara when the doorbell rang.

He panicked slightly, recentered himself, and put the pasta in the oven so it wouldn’t go cold. Smart!

Patting himself down once more to make sure he looked alright, he practically skipped to the door.

It was a little gay.

Wicker wasn’t impatient or anything, so he didn’t have to rush. Which didn’t stop him, because he did rush.

He took a deep breath.

He opened the door.

“Wicker!” Ozzie opened his arms to look inviting, “You’re early!”

“Traffic was light.”

“Of course, it’s usually lighter around this area!” Ozzie moved to the side, ushering Wicker in, “Please, come in!”

Wicker walked in, and Ozzie mentally stalled for a minute. It’s been a while since he’s had someone in his house who didn’t know their way around like the back of their hand, what was he supposed to do again?

“Do you want me to take your coat?” Ozzie finally asked, after a second or two of silence.

Wicker mulled it over, “No, thanks for offering.”

Ozzie clapped his hands together, “What would I be if I was a terrible host, hm? Follow me!”

Ozzie led the way, walking fast subconsciously because he was a little stressed — ok, no, he was very stressed.

“It’s big.”

“Not the first time —“ Ozzie mentally slapped himself, “My dad invested a lot into this place, lots of renovations… I hardly even notice its size nowadays.”

“Couldn't just leave it alone?”

“He always was one for passion projects,” Ozzie laughed, “Sometimes I think that’s why he had me.”

Before more conversation could be had, Ozzie opened the door to his little secret. It was a study-like room, big but not huge.

“Tada!” Ozzie walked in, “You see, the dining room is rather impersonal, so big and looming — so I thought we could eat it in here! I had a spare table and chairs anyway.”

The room was dimly lit, yet illuminated with neon lights and other such features. There was a sofa with throws, a Tv, and a desk; overall, it was quite messy. It was a good reflection of Ozzie, in all honesty.

In the middle of the room was a table and two chairs. It looked very makeshift.

“My dad had this room designated for me,” Ozzie spun around slightly, “So I made it into something nice!”

“It’s very you.”

“Thank you!” Ozzie gleamed, “Now, get yourself comfortable, I’ll be back.”

Ozzie did a little bow, something he commonly did for no real reason, and then swiftly left the room. The moment he shut the door behind him, he sank slightly with a sigh. Why was he so stressed? Wicker is completely cool!

He sped over to the kitchen, a little giddy as he did. He really needed more friends that he invited around his house, really, if he was getting this giddy over a totally friendly hangout, with his friend.

Friends.

You know, maybe Ozzie just needed more real, tangible friends.

Ozzie snapped himself back to what he was doing, plating the food.

It didn’t take much, some cheese, some basil — overall, he’d done most of the heavy lifting already.

Grabbing the two plates, and taking another deep breath, he made his way back to Wicker with a renewed spring in his step. Dinner with a friend! It was fun! He was having fun.

He didn’t let himself hesitate as he opened the door, “Ciao! I return with food, cooked fresh by yours truly.”

“You cooked it?”

Ozzie smiled, setting Wicker’s down in front of them, “I do! I cook, I clean, I garden — what, do you think other people do it all for me?”

Wicker didn’t verbally respond. They did however shrug very slightly.

“I know, I’m a rich boy with a big house,” Ozzie sat down putting his plate in front of him, “But my father always told me that I need to learn, just in case I lose it all.”

Wicker had started eating, so simply waited for Ozzie to continue talking. It didn’t take him long.

“I get my friend Aubrey to help me clean and garden sometimes, when she’s free, but that’s about all I get help on,” Ozzie smiled fondly, “My zii taught me how to cook, Achille also taught me how to garden… Achille’s wife taught me how to sew!”

Ozzie paused to eat, being as polite about it as possible. He was taught to have good table manners.

“I think people… assume about me, and I don’t blame them!” Ozzie laughed, “I am a rich boy with a big house, but I like to think it didn’t change me. Hell, I pissed my dad off during my teenage years so bad, I thought he was going to disown me!”

“Oh?”

“When I was 15, I got really into the hippie lifestyle,” Ozzie put up a peace sign to emphasise his point, “When he found out, he chewed me out. Told me that it was bad for his business for me to be a hippie.”

Wicker nodded.

“But I wasn’t going to back down! I love the lifestyle,” Ozzie leant back, “So, after a conversation with my mum, he opened up to the idea. Never fully loved it but…”

Ozzie shrugged, then went back to eating his food for a few minutes of silence. He knew he talked a lot, and he knew his dad used to tell him silence was golden.

“What about you?” Ozzie asked, “Your family, that is.”

Wicker paused slightly, shuffling in their seat, “My chapter is my family.”

Ozzie already regretted the question, feeling like he messed up, “Of course! What a silly question on my part!”

“It’s fine.”

“People always ask me how close I was to my parents,” Ozzie mumbled, “I don’t think they realise it’s a somewhat insensitive question to ask, until I grimace at them so they fully understand how awkward it is!”

Ozzie laughed at himself, “But, I also just never know how to answer. I’m closer to my zii than I was to them, but I don’t want to tell just anyone that.”

“You’re telling me.”

“You’re not just anyone,” Ozzie blanked slightly, trying to recover from his own sentence, “Otherwise I wouldn’t have invited you over! I mean, you could rob me at any point and I couldn’t stop you, I’m just skin and bones!”

Wicker nodded again.

“I trust you not to rob me, so I trust you to hear that little family woe,” Ozzie laughed slightly, looking down at his now empty plate, “Do you want to see something cool.”

“Sure.”

Ozzie stood up, and walked over to the wall. It had been a while since he had done this. He rubbed his hand across the wall, moving around until he felt it, a little gap in the wallpaper. He mentally celebrated.

“When my dad was building this place, he’d often leave the builders alone, and when he designated this room for me, I asked them to add in a little secret,” Ozzie explained.

He stuck his finger into the gap, pulling it out and revealing a hole in the wall.

“It leads to every room in the house,” Ozzie laughed, crouching down near it, “Father never even knew.”

Wicker had walked over at this point, “A secret tunnel.”

“I wanted to be able to go anywhere, I was kind of… a rat, in that regard, crawling through the walls!”

“It’s very you.”

Ozzie smiled, “Yes, I suppose it is.”

There was a silence as the two of them just stared at the tunnel. Ozzie slowly shut the door again, standing up and dusting himself off.

“How was your food then, Wicker?”

“Good. You can cook.”

“I sure hope so!” Ozzie laughed, “I suppose you must be on your way now, hm?”

“Yeah.”

Ozzie rocked on his feet slightly, “If you would like, you can stay.”

Wicker looked at Ozzie.

“This house has an awful lot of rooms, would be a shame if they went to waste, no?”

Wicker thought it over, “Sure.”

Ozzie mentally celebrated, but outwardly he simply smiled, “Well, if you follow me, I’ll show you the way!”