A Saturday Night Story

Jeannie wasn’t happy about this at all. In fact, she thought this was the stupidest thing they’ve done so far.

“Can you be quiet please?” Tyler whispered loudly.

“I didn’t say anything!”

“Then stop thinking so loudly, I can hear you complain over the radio.” He countered back. They halted in a dimly lit street.

“Because it’s totally okay to wake someone up in the middle of the night to vandalize public property.” Jeannie dragged; her voice came out slightly muffled from the mask suffocating her. He got caught before, and she’s sure it’ll happen again.

“Firstly, this is art.” He began to paint the building in a shade that could be red or pink; it was difficult to tell in the dark. “And if you’re too scared why didn’t you say so first?”

“Because you didn’t tell me I was going to spend my night guarding you as you paint a masterpiece.” she mocked.

The next few minutes of silence were soon broken with a symphony of sirens. The one, both of them were familiar with. A look of horror crossed their faces, and all hell broke loose in Jeannie’s mind.

“I told you we were going to get caught!” she screamed frantically.

“Shut up! I have a license,” he paused for a moment, “which I left it in the dorm room.” He cursed himself for being careless while picking up to paint cans.

“What are you doing? Leave them here and run.” Jeannie panted. She pulled off the blue kitten mask in desperate need for oxygen.

 

“These are expensive paints. I’m not leaving them!”

In the cold night air of London, Jeannie’s asthma was catching up with her panic. The police were in the next street, and yet Tyler isn’t prepared to start sprinting for his life. This can only mean one thing – they’re going to spend Saturday night in jail.

“Hands up!” The police pointed were ready with their handcuffs. “Stop looking around. You can’t run away from this anymore. We’ve caught you this time!”

Brian rolled his eyes, they always say that. But the next day he’s continuing his business. He knows he can get away easily.

“Where are the drugs? Where are you hiding them?”

Brian shrugged innocently. After a long search of his bag, pockets all they’ve found was a wallet with too many pennies, a half-eaten sandwich, and keys.

“Perhaps we received wrong information, sir?” The man asked,

“No, it can’t be. He is the guy we need. Take him in for interrogation.” The officer demanded.

***

“Well, we got out of that. You can calm down now.” Tyler said.

“Ok, we got out; it was no thanks to you though. If Jeremy didn’t bring in your artist license, we would’ve been there all night.” Jeannie was still annoyed. A little relieved but still annoyed.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized for what felt like the hundredth time. “I’ll be careful next time.”

“Next time?” She couldn’t believe the guts Tyler had, “After everything that happened tonight, you think there’ll be the next time?”

“I think you’re just overreacting.” He rolled his eyes.

Jeannie huffed, she had nothing to say.

As the clock chimed into midnight, they walked away in beautiful and calm silence.

“That is it for Saturday Night's Story! Thank you for listening, have a great night!” I signed off the story.

It was an odd one, I thought. Where did Brian come from in Tyler and Jeannie’s story? I went over the script quickly and realized it. I sighed, hoping that my confident voice was good enough to cover the fact that both stories were mixed up. “A Wild Night Down the Artist Street” met with “The Beginning of the End of Brian Adams.”