#not fair bc harrison loves careless whisper. what are you going to do now about careless whisper

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

giant paragraph I wrote tonight where harrison makes enemies with george michael… handwritten version is the first draft & made some minor changes below:

Harrison’s tired of hearing George Michael on the radio. Once, he enjoyed getting drunk off peach daiquiris and being the only person in his friend group to be kicked out of three separate karaoke bars for being “grossly disruptive” during Everything She Wants. Sometimes, he’d extend a hand to Jeremiah sitting amused on the sectional, singing some people work for fun, girl I just work for you, just so he’d roll his eyes and with a reluctant laugh, take his hand, the silver tassels of his chrome sequin jacket braying midair like Christmas ornaments. They’d shout the lyrics together, every uh-huh, every la, la, la, back to back like Richard Gere and Julia Roberts on the cover of Pretty Woman. The memories are misty at the edges, dreamy tiles of a rotating disco ball because Jeremiah was a dream, half an angel and certainly more than a man. It feels, then, apt to be haunted—by pillar candles, silk sheets, vintage analog clocks, Annie’s mac and cheese right from the pot, silver sedans, the scent of nail polish remover, blue snow cones, disposable cameras, back issues of XY, green gummy bears, losing at checkers, motel pools, bootleg copies of Sleepy Hollow and Silence of the Lambs and The Blair Witch Project, sharing instant coffee on a loveseat, the texture of velvet, halving a granny smith apple in the dark, orange Tic-Tacs, veggie pizza, movie ticket stubs, brown eyes in the sun, fur coats, the sound of George Michael’s voice.