“Good luck at your meeting, Benny.” Benny’s twin brother, Andersson, gave him a sincere handshake as Benny’s taxi driver prepared themselves for the huge Vinke’s keyboard and pro amplifier.
“Thanks, Andersson. Have a good time here in Hagrete.” No hints of expression or emotion even flashed across Benny’s face as he maintained his air of ‘Hey, I’m a really cool musician and you better not cross my path or I’ll sue you with a thousand lawyers.’
As it seems most musicians go. He strolled over to his taxi, fingers twitching slightly as he pulled the car door open.
Andersson’s fingers twitched simultaneously. He picked up his suitcase and walked into the secretary’s office, listening to the radio and waiting for some work to do. It wouldn’t take very long, he supposed, as Mr. Bland had ample clients, although he was the most boring accountant ever known to exist in Hagrete.
Sure enough, 22 notifications flashed on his laptop screen and soon he found himself typing so fast his hands cramped on three separate occasions.
He rubbed his eyes and released a monstrous yawn. It was only 10:12, and he already felt like he’d run a racetrack - on his fingers.
After a hard one hour and twelve minutes of working, he decided he deserved another coffee, and with a great deal of enthusiasm and rings under his eyes, he staggered over to the coffee-maker and poured himself a mug filled to the brim.
Andersson sighed, the rest of his energy transferred into that single movement. He was powered by coffee, and today was the day that he had run out. It seemed he would have to savour a single, tiny mug. Bleh.
Leaning back in his office chair, fingers twitching, he pondered his choice of being a secretary. Like many others, it was the wrong choice. He’d thought he’d have a typewriter. He had his boss’s old worn-down keyboard. He thought he’d have a fountain pen behind his ear. He had a faded ballpoint pen somewhere in the drawer that always got stuck when he tried to open it. He thought he would be wearing flashy reading glasses. He was wearing uncool, non-trendy contacts that always made his eyes dry. He thought he would have unlimited coffee. That one almost came true, but look at him now! Doomed to a coffee-less day.
He liked his job when he wasn’t doing anything. But at the moment, he was. Or had been, at least.
The tape in his mind automatically fast-forwarded to his brother. Coolest pianist in Hagrete, for the most famous cover band in Hagrete - The Aubergines. Constant practice at the thing you’re best at, being paid in millions for it, hanging out with three of the most talented people in Drenosgrete Valley. Designing cool costumes for your band to wear, being the manager and always having their backs. Going to amazing, secret meetings for the prestigious musicians of the world that you could only tell your sibling about. Being friendly, being social, being stunning, being plain INCREDIBLE. Andersson couldn’t imagine anyone thinking of him that way.
He’d like a day being his brother. The amazing Benny Bulsara! Not some secretary called Andersson Farrokh. (The Farrokh was him wanting a different last name so that nobody would exclaim in delight during a conversation once they learnt he was the brother of Benny, and then ask him more about his brother than him. It didn’t work, since they were identical twins, and that originally was the reason they figured it out, but Andersson wasn’t too smart, so how would he have guessed the real reason?)
Andersson decided to skip his second Lot (how they separated the time in his job, invented by Mr. Bland himself.) and go to visit his friend Frida at the apartment across from his office.
As soon as he stepped onto the street, he saw a few heads turn towards him, and speedily donned his face-shadowing hat. Walking at a steady pace, he turned and chanced a look across the road -
* * *
“Hey, Agnetha, I don’t think I can come to the meeting. My best friend just called, and she said there’s a kangaroo in her house, so I had to tell the taxi to redirect to Reptile Park to pick up a few workers to manage the situation. The whole operation, I estimate, will take about five hours. So, yeah, I can't come.”
Agnetha hesitated on the phone, then sighed and spat out a few words. “Okay. That’s fine. Sorry about that. Love you. Bye, Ben.”
And then hung up before her despair clouded her thoughts. Today had been the day, and she had finally summoned her courage, and then he couldn’t come. More waiting. Rage mingled with the despair inside her.
“Ugh, Benny…always something else to do, something else to manage, no time for me or anyone else, even his brother. Why? Why did I ever make him the manager?”
She slumped over on the dashboard of her car, and then propped herself up. Well, what’s done is done, and what was done was that Benny’s friend had a kangaroo in her house, and he had to help. So why waste time? It was time to go to the meeting anyway.
As her car finally started to purr happily, as it was an old car, she noticed a certain someone cross the road.
* * *
“BENNY! Oh my god! You said - nevermind! Come, what are you doing here in Hagrete? I’ll drive you to the meeting.”
Andersson held up his hands, fingers twitching, as the woman tossed her arms around his neck.
And then he recognised her as the one and only Agnetha May, the main singer of The Aubergines.
“Come on, honey, don’t just stand there! I was surprised too, you know…” the smile painted on her face made Andersson feel like he shouldn’t object in any way.
So he followed her to her car, and as soon as he stepped in, he noticed the obvious smell of mints and bubblegum.
“It smells good in here.” he said nonchalantly.
“Yeah,” Agnetha said, giving him a slightly suspicious look, “I have had a significant increase in the need for mints. I’ve run out of toothpaste, and the stores have had a shortage for some reason. I’m having some imported soon.”
He didn’t laugh, and for some reason this sort of ticked Agnetha. He hesitantly sat down in the seats, fingers twitching, and sighed in comfort. The car seat was so unlike his uncomfortable office chair.
“This is so nice.” he muttered.
“Hm?” Agnetha started the car, and it chuttered as the ignition rumbled to life.
“Haven’t you ever been in my car?” she said, and gave him a friendly smile, although she was really beginning to wonder whether this was her boyfriend - pianist - or not.
‘And yet it must be,’ she thought as she flicked her brown hair out of her eyes.
Andersson realised his mistake. He should’ve backed out of this the moment Agnetha grabbed him. Now it was too late, and to tell her would be crazy. It’d earn him a few - looks, that was for sure.
“Say, Benny, all that about the kangaroo in your friend’s house and such…was that true, or were you pranking me like you always do?”
Andersson was definitely taken aback. “What - wh - what are you talking about?”
She laughed, a rich, full laugh, as rich as plum cake or melted chocolate. “So you were pranking me. You had me worried there for a second.”
Andersson simply sat and stared out the window, wondering how on Earth he’d gotten himself into this situation.