Ikarus - Part II (fiction)

Before you go any further - Ikarus - Part I (fiction). You're welcome.

He couldn’t believe he’d agreed to this. Standing outside the immense, shabby house, Eric cursed himself for having agreed to Ikarus’ crazy plan in the first place. I mean, he should’ve known from the on-set something was wrong. Hell, the whole premise was wrong. You don’t just hand off the keys to your apartment to a potentially, no, not potentially, a clearly insane person. And what kind of a name is Ikarus?
His deranged stalker hadn’t seemed too keen on explaining how he’d come by it, so Eric just dropped it. And it had seemed like a good idea, like something he could do once and be wild. Go crazy. Have something to tell the grandkids. Of course, to actually have grandkids one must first have a girlfriend, which in turn means one must first have a date which, let’s face it, seemed highly unlikely at this point.

Naturally, none of that had mattered on the way over here. He hadn’t even gone home from the movie, he’d just handed Ikarus his keys, gathered some vague directions from the man and was on his way. But standing here now, it began to seem like… not such a good idea. Well, a straight-out bad idea, to be honest. He was panicking, so something must be done.
He rang the bell. Before he could chicken out of it and head home. If he still had a home at this point, that is.

He stood on the doorstep of the ancient house, listening to the vague rhythms of a sexy tango wafting from the front room. This is it, Eric told himself, steadying himself, drawing in a deep, calming breath.
The door opened with a slight screech and what could only be identified as a clown trumpet and before him stood a little girl, who couldn’t have been more than twelve and who had on her head, by far the largest cowboy hat Eric had ever seen.

‘H-hello,’ he stammered. ‘Is your mother home?’
The girl shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’ And with that, she skipped away, not back into the house, but past Eric and down the darkened street.
‘Uhm, where are you going? Little girl?’
But the girl pretended not to hear him (it was rather obvious, since by that point, she’d begun skipping backwards and was making eye-contact with her guest) and disappeared into the night.
Still craning his neck, trying to see her, Eric shuffled into the house, a bit sheepish. What was he going to do now? What if the girl’s parents blamed him?

Oh, this was silly.

_{Photo by Shane Rounce on Unsplash}

But also, not as bad as he’d thought. For one, the girl’s parents were nowhere to be found. There were several people jammed into the front room – some in suits and several in jogging pants. One, an old lady with a suspiciously burly mustache, even held in her arms a small (and slightly blue) Chihuahua.
Eric asked, from person to person, he pushed his way through and ‘excuse me’d with pretty much everyone, but all he could gather was that everyone in the room had been dragged in by the owners of the house, presumably, for a wild spontaneous party.
He noticed – with great sympathy, I might add – a disgruntled man standing in the corner, tapping his foot and checking his watch, but far too embarrassed to actually leave. He most likely had a wife at home, or at the very least, a cat. He had not meant to be here this evening, and yet, here he was.

And he wasn’t the only one.

Now, Eric’s parents, they’d been fine, stand-up citizens. They’d raised their son well, and he knew, as well as the next boy, not to go snooping into strangers’ houses. Except now, of course, he kinda had to. He needed to find Ikarus’ parents and explain what had happened and how he thought maybe he’d be living here for the next week or so. No pressure, though, if they minded, he would definitely understand. He could go find a nearby hotel or something. Oh God, part of him seemed to whine, how much is this going to cost?

And yet, another part of him seemed to say ‘shut up, you, let’s have some fun’. But in the huge house filled with confused strangers, it seemed fun was not to be found. Or more specifically, Ikarus’ parents, who could clear up this whole thing. So, after exploring every nook and cranny, after he’d snooped through the drawers – should the Mr and Mrs be hidden there – and the broom-closets, and had established that Ikarus’ parents, or indeed, any of his extended family, were not on the premises; he did the only thing he could do. He joined the party.

Reluctantly, at first. He was not a big drinker, because people don’t need alcohol to have fun. A somewhat faulty logic, it seemed, given that he hadn’t actually had much fun in… well, too long to remember.
So, for once, he would indulge himself in a wee glass of scotch. As he joined the conga-line, that was terribly out of tempo, I might add, he felt something strange in his stomach and at first, he thought it was some sort of reaction to the whiskey. Still, it was his turn, so he had to ignore it and lean. And it was then, under the makeshift conga pole – lamp foot – that he felt it again and this time, he knew what it was. It was fun. He was actually having fun. It was happiness he was feeling, and in a jolt, he jumped up and ‘hooray’ed, which proved detrimental to the conga, but quite good for Eric himself.

Much later in the night, after he’d seen everyone out the door and had even carried some of the plates and glasses to the kitchen, Eric sat on the edge of the couch and giggled. He had never done this, but had always kinda wondered what it was like and let me tell you, it was glorious. Lying his head down on the soft cushion, he felt certain he wouldn’t fall asleep for a long while yet, not with all this agitation. And part of him was glad, because it still kinda wanted to explain what he was doing here and settle this and make things nice and ordered again. He was asleep in under a minute and slept like a baby, through the night.

Back in Eric’s apartment, Ikarus was living the dream. Or rather, he wasn’t. After lying in bed for three hours, he still hadn’t managed to fall asleep and he’d sit up, every once in a while, all giddy with excitement, to stare at Eric’s annoying chiming clock and admire, from afar, his coin collection. By four AM, he still couldn’t believe he was really here and he wondered, with mounting excitement, what the morning would bring.

to be continued

Today's prompt was 'sexy tango' - thanks to @mariannewest for the inspiration (check her out!)

Thanks for reading,