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Don't Call it a Comeback; Open
Topic Started: Apr 26 2015, 09:23 PM (1,770 Views)
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the bass and the tweeters make the speakers go to war
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((Asher Glas, pregame start))

He'd been standing near the men's shorts section - comparably tiny when you looked at the racks and walls of women's clothing in this particular store - when he'd heard the familiar voices. Actually, he'd been holding a pair of yellow shorts - tiny, tight ones - when they floated towards his section, prompting an embarrassed red to steal up the back of his neck and the shorts to ball in his fist.

He'd been looking for some new soccer gear, having just been reminded of it by a commercial for FIFA 16 a few hours beforehand, reminding him that his old practice shorts were getting pretty scary-looking from constant washing, wear and tear, and general abuse. He'd passed the store with his iPod in, figured might as well, and started perusing.

The shorts had wound up in his hand out of morbid fascination - how did anyone wear something like this - when he'd heard Fiyori mention something about being nude in a hat. That's when the blush began to threaten.

It came full force when he realized that the three girls were two or three racks away, and he was standing there holding what was probably an inch and a half away from a dong thong. A bright yellow dong thong, at that, with a few suspicious stains around the thigh region.

His first instinct was to turn and flee - throw up the hood of his sweater, take off, buy shorts some other time - but it seemed an extreme reaction. They were classmates, after all. He knew them somewhat - recognized the voices. He shouldn't run from every social encounter he wasn't ready for.

But he had stuff to do, too, he reasoned. He had to study for that new term quiz in Chem, had some paint drying on a birdhouse for Aunt June that probably needed a second coat. He also had just bought The Raid 2, and that wasn't going to watch itself. Busy night, potentially. So he could probably leave - it wasn't really running.

They probably didn't care enough if he just took off without saying hi. It wasn't rude - not really.

Set in his course, Asher turned to leave, heading right past the hat display. He was so wrapped up in his rationale for why he wasn't retreating that he didn't really see Nadia until he was nearly walking her down from behind her, forcing him to twist his body, skirting around her without cutting his speed.

"Oh," he said, pausing to apologize, reaching a hand out in case he jostled her, "sorry. I um, wasn't..."

From his twisted fingers, the tiny, stained, bright yellow booty shorts dangled.

"...paying attention."
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the bass and the tweeters make the speakers go to war
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
"Oh, I was just wondering at the complete ridiculousness of these," Asher could've said, "not picking them out for myself. Talk about an eyeful, huh?"

He didn't.

"No, I'm not. I mean the shorts. I'm - I was just braving them. Getting them. No, I wasn't- I mean-"

Asher's eyes slid to the floor, the stupid, stained, slightly crusty yellow shorts dangling from his fingers. A nervous chuckle bubbled from his throat as he ran his free hand over his heated neck, taking a two-step, far too large shuffle backwards, before tossing the shorts onto the rack closest to him and spinning around.

"I need to- something."

((Asher Glas, elsewhere))
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