FAKE Double Drabble: Deafening
Title: Deafening
Fandom: FAKE
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Dee.
Rating: PG
Setting: After the manga.
Summary: Dee is not enjoying the Christmas shopping experience.
Written Using: The tw100 prompt ‘Annoy’.
Disclaimer: I don’t own FAKE, or the characters. They belong to the wonderful Sanami Matoh.
A/N: Double drabble.
The loud Christmas music blaring from every shop was seriously beginning to annoy Dee. He had nothing against it; he generally enjoyed Carols and Christmas songs, they helped set the mood. The problem was that every single store in the mall was playing something different, and as he dodged bad-tempered shoppers overladen with multiple heavy bags, his ears were assaulted by a dozen songs at once, all of them tinny, poorly recorded versions played too loud.
He wondered if it was this bad every year and he’d somehow managed to block the memory, or if the endless cacophony was worse than usual. He’d had the beginnings of a headache when he’d set out, but by now it felt like there were imps with pickaxes hammering away at his temples. Pushing his way through the crowds into a pharmacy, where ‘Jingle Bell Rock’ was playing loud enough to wake the dead, he bought Tylenol and a bottle of water, and gulped down two tablets before leaving the store, continuing on his way, sipping the rest of his water.
“Maybe I’m gettin’ old,” he muttered to himself. “Or maybe I’m just tired, stressed, overworked, and dehydrated.”
Either way, Christmas shopping was torture.
The End
Fandom: FAKE
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Dee.
Rating: PG
Setting: After the manga.
Summary: Dee is not enjoying the Christmas shopping experience.
Written Using: The tw100 prompt ‘Annoy’.
Disclaimer: I don’t own FAKE, or the characters. They belong to the wonderful Sanami Matoh.
A/N: Double drabble.
The loud Christmas music blaring from every shop was seriously beginning to annoy Dee. He had nothing against it; he generally enjoyed Carols and Christmas songs, they helped set the mood. The problem was that every single store in the mall was playing something different, and as he dodged bad-tempered shoppers overladen with multiple heavy bags, his ears were assaulted by a dozen songs at once, all of them tinny, poorly recorded versions played too loud.
He wondered if it was this bad every year and he’d somehow managed to block the memory, or if the endless cacophony was worse than usual. He’d had the beginnings of a headache when he’d set out, but by now it felt like there were imps with pickaxes hammering away at his temples. Pushing his way through the crowds into a pharmacy, where ‘Jingle Bell Rock’ was playing loud enough to wake the dead, he bought Tylenol and a bottle of water, and gulped down two tablets before leaving the store, continuing on his way, sipping the rest of his water.
“Maybe I’m gettin’ old,” he muttered to himself. “Or maybe I’m just tired, stressed, overworked, and dehydrated.”
Either way, Christmas shopping was torture.
The End