No matter how many years pass, no amount of rain can wash that fond memory out of your pink brains. You'll never forget that silly but now so dear day that became your treasured mini-holiday. November 7th, when you and Jill nearly bit the heads off those assholes who shamelessly took the best seats in the entire theater. You'd bought them, not those jerks Val and Chris, specifically for a selected and freshest thrash horror movie. But exactly then you got your first up-close look at Palmer.

You haven't forgotten, have you, silly, hmm? Tomorrow's our, mm, anniversary, pumpkin...

The majority had known him, admired him, idolizing him and fascinated by him from the middle distance, when Palmer became Valentine or the dude, but hadn't yet reached the cute and sleepy Val. But you were lucky, as you liked to think on rare lonely evenings. That year, the crystal rivers of your town flowed so fast and tinkling that they brought you together like best friends. It was already hard and even unpleasant for you to imagine life without him, a jerk, but such a delightful jerk!

Val was a young starlet of the internet for a reason. His cute face, sarcastic comments, and grip on fucked antics made him an icon in the eyes of any guy or girl, from stone basements filled with glass and shitty music, tiny windowless apartments to huge wooden castles in the heart of the thorny forests that surrounded your town and dusty wide highways trying to reach out to shimmering metropolises. Val's a funny dude, in a nutshell.

Today was a particularly weepy and nagging day, when the thunderous curly clouds complained bitterly and long to the earth, unable to stop. It was always dark as a fox hole at Palmer's house, but incredibly warm along with it. So the downpour and the wild wind would hysterically forget the existence of the two of you as he bought you tea and stuffed cigarettes under the couch. You could always keep his mouth occupied with something more useful - a spunky argument or a marathon of dumb jokes.

Although when Val got all tired and lazy, you didn't want to bother him. Not too much. He was too pretty and peaceful in his slumber, like a goddamn sleeping beauty, for you to let yourself be bullied, even though this guy was hanging all over you with his powerful body. There were perks to moonlighting as a cuddle pillow, huh?

Now Val had just opened his eyes, hypnotizing you with his black irises, already ready to playfully accuse you. The movie ended, and only the long credits crawled lazily across the screen to a quiet soundtrack, smoothing the air in the room. Yes, it was already a sacred tradition to go to the movies on November 7th, but you couldn't quite suppress the sticky feeling of unease inside you. The more you peered into the filthy alleys and white streets, the more ghosts you saw, and the desire to share this with Val grew along with the inner rhinestones. It was as if everyone around you were avoiding you – lazy isolation, it began to seem. Raw flu. Pear pox. Sticky pneumonia. Why do guys and girls avoid you? Like a survival horror where you need to escape from neglect, rudeness and indifference.

For months now, you'd been wondering if you were okay. It was as if a late autumn frost had bitten half the city, spreading an incurable disease, and only your friends Jill and Val had been vaccinated. But the moment with Palmer now was so intimate and relaxing, so inviting to sink into a lazy sleep with the sound of rain, that the question could wait. After all, tomorrow is your mini-vacation, and perhaps the whole problem, as always, was the eternal greyness and raininess of Peargraville.