After a long day, I finally returned home to my apartment, the McCartney Complex, with the monkey by my side. 

My body ached, and my brain thumped. 

How did I even get here? 

I franticly searched every pocket until I was reminded of my situation. I left my damn car keys at the pet store.

Great, Just Great. 

Fan-fucking-tastic. 

It’s too late to return at this hour, and who knows what Yolanda could have done with them. Probably something crazy like throw them in the trash. Luckily, I had an extra apartment key under the mat.

I fumbled with my keys as I was towered over by a silhouette casting over me. I stared at the shadow and worked my way up. 

There stood Lily Applebum, my next-door neighbor. Fuzzy boots, frilly dress, curvy, well-stacked, a beaded necklace, and a paper bag over her head. I can’t remember why she wears it, but I never asked, and I didn’t mind. 

“Bonjour, Lily,” I said, my voice sounding rough before I cleared my throat. 

Lily didn’t look at me directly, instead fidgeting with her dress.

“Oh, bonjour, Mr. Florence,” she replied, her voice muffled slightly by the bag.

With that exchange, we went our separate ways.

…

Pause.

It wasn’t something I gave much thought to, but now, amid everything that’s happened, I began to wonder if it was normal to live so close to Lily for so long yet not know much about them? 

Probably not.

I shouldn’t be obligated to get to know her because we lived close. But this may very well be the most interaction we’ve ever had for as long as I can remember. It always seemed to be a simple hello and goodbye, which always seemed right. That’s not to say I didn’t want to delve into something deeper, but something tells me that I should keep my distance.

Yet I stood there, wondering what my next move would be. I wanted independence and space, yet I also wanted to connect with more people. I have a hard time talking to people sometimes, but getting to know them better goes a long way. 

I let the monkey into my apartment, and he ran back and forth in circles, getting his hands on everything it could see. Then he stopped and climbed me like a mountain, its tiny hands gripping my shirt like a little alpinist. He made it to the top on my shoulder, feeling proud. 

The apartment was junky. The bed was unmade, my dirty clothes were scattered everywhere, the dishes piled up in the sink, and the air smelled stale. I used to keep this place in better shape, but ever since I was fired, I haven’t had the energy to do much about it. The weird shit with Yolanda and the long walk home didn’t help much.

The monkey quickly grew bored and hopped off my shoulder to run around some more. I needed to keep him busy, so I turned the television on and put on Greta Cheeda and the Cheese Gang, a dumb but cute little cartoon about a mouse and her friend group of talking cheeses. 

I heard a knock on the door.  

It can’t be…

“Hi, Mr. Florence. You wouldn’t happen to have any sugar on you, do you?”

“Yes, ma’am, I do.”

“Oh great! You know what? Let me just grab something real quick.”

She disappeared back into her apartment for a moment. 

My heart sank immediately after I grumbled to myself as I was put in such a compromising spot. 

What’s her angle? 

Lily reappeared like a magician, holding a small tray with teabags, two mugs, and spoons.

She stared at me with her beautiful doe-like eyes, waiting patiently. I didn’t want to be rude, but I didn’t want company either. The silence made things extra awkward. Damn it, Florence, just go with it. She's just trying to be friendly.

"Are you... sure?" she asked, appearing to wait for me to invite her in.

"Of course. It's just a little messy."

The inside of my apartment wasn’t the most welcoming sight. Lily tried to stay optimistic when she could sense my disappointment. “Hey, it’s fine. Don’t beat yourself up over it. I don’t mind at all, really. Although it could be cleaner in here."

...

 "So, we've been neighbors for a while now but we never really talked. I know it’s not usual to feel obligated, but I want to get tp know each other a little better."

...

The monkey came from the bathroom after flushing the toilet. I might have to check that out.

“Uhh. Excuse me for a moment, Lily.”

I whispered to the monkey, “Hey if she tries something, you know what to do. Use what I taught during our walk.”

He nodded and pulled out a pocket knife. 

As I moved to check whether he had ruined my bathroom, I heard some rummaging around in the living room. When I returned, I found Lily sitting cross-legged on the couch, a wrinkled grin peeking from her paper bag face.

I had to do a double-take to see if anything was stolen. Surprisingly, the place appeared a lot less cluttered. 

“You really should get a housekeeper, you know,” Lily said, twirling her spoon around in her cup.

“Right, but…., it’s my stuff, you know?” I replied, switching my voice to a more serious tone.

Her smile fell, and she bowed her eyes to the ground. “I was just trying to do you a favor,” she said, her tone softer, almost defensive.

“I  appreciate it, but—”

“—it makes you uncomfortable,” she finished for me. “I didn’t mean to overstep, Florence. It looked like you needed a hand. And stuff like this comes naturally to me. It’s almost like a tic.”

I sighed, running a hand through my curly hair. “Look, I’m grateful, really. It’s just… I’m dealing with a lot right now, and having someone else go through my things makes me feel…exposed.”

She nodded slowly. “I respect that. I apologize for intruding.”

The monkey scampered over to me, his tiny feet clacking against the floor. He looked up at me with curious eyes, as if he sensed the tension in the air.

I couldn’t help but smile at the little creature. “Hey, what’s up, little buddy?” I murmured, bending down to run my fingers through his soft, warm fur. I’m glad that he was a comforting distraction that broke the silence that had settled uncomfortably between Lily and me.

She cooed at the creature, saying, "Aw, look at this sweet little baby wanting to join the conversation.” 

The monkey froze up, panicked, and hid behind me, unfamiliar with the giant stranger.

I was a bit nervous, not just for the monkey’s sake but also for her finding out what was really going on, so I told her, "Yeah. Don't tell the landlord, though. This is a pet monkey I brought with me.”

“Oh no, you don’t need to worry about that. Your secret is safe with me.” She leaned in a little, lowering her voice to a short whisper. "Besides, I’ve got my own dirty laundry. We all do, right?"

“Huh. Okay then.” I chuckled nervously.

“Where did you even find him?” she asked, genuinely curious.

“Oh, I got him from one of those rare on-the-side-of-the-road free monkey spots. It’s a here-today, gone-tomorrow pop-up type thing.”

Lily laughed. “That’s rather off the wall, but I have seen and heard stranger things from this state.”

“Haha, yeah.” I glanced at the monkey, now cautiously peeking out from behind me.

Once I figure out what to do on the Yolanda side of things, it will be easier to tell her the truth when things settle.

"So, Lily," I said, attempting to steer the conversation. Since you’ve brought over tea, I wanted to return the favor by grabbing us some alcohol, if you don’t mind. I have some vodka, tequila, wine, and whiskey with whiskey and wine. " 

She started to become wishy-washy with her decision. "I would love to, but I don't think the landlord would approve. The rules state that we couldn’t have drugs or alcohol on the premises…ah, what the hell. I don’t want to spoil this evening. Wine would be good." 

With his curious little eyes, the monkey pointed excitedly at the television, where Greta Cheeda and the Cheese Gang were still playing in the background.

“With cheese, please!” she called out as she started to watch along with him.

As I poured us both a glass and cut the cheese, the atmosphere shifted slightly, and we got loose with each sip.

“So, Mr. Florence, what’s your story? I mean, you seem like a nice guy, but it feels like there’s more to you than meets the eye. For instance, why do you wear that metal funnel on your head, if you don’t mind me asking? It’s quite unique.”

She waited on me, probably thinking I’d eventually crack and open up to her. She looked almost like she was trying to figure me out. For a second, I wanted to lay it all out. But that would mean admitting more than I was willing to.

I had to start somewhere, so I went as far back as possible with my metal funnel hat.

“Ah, this old thing? It’s got some history to it.” I adjusted the funnel, “I had this back in Grade school. It was a rough period. I was the outcast of the school. Everyone else was trying so hard to fit in their own groups. So I figured, why not embrace the weirdness of individuality, you know?”

Lily’s mouth went agape as her curiosity piqued. “Oh really? You wore a funnel to stand out?”

“Yeah. I mean, who else would wear a funnel on their head?” I laughed. “I got a lot of attention from it—some of it was good, even supportive, while others were brutal. At best, they called me Tinhead. At worst, it was a string of slurs with ‘metal’ somewhere in between. But you know, maybe the world has gotten more insane as time has passed, and some guy wearing a funnel is the least weird thing you could see.”

She tilted her head, a smile creeping onto her lips. “I’d have to admit, it’s kind of awesome. You wear it with such confidence.”

"Yeah, I wore it for so long. It’s just who I am now.” I scooted in closer, lowering my voice with a smirk. “But you…what’s underneath that paper bag? I bet you got something worth keeping a secret? 

She laughed lightly, the tension flowing further. “You know, it’s funny. Under this bag, I’m just a regular woman. I used to get a lot of attention, but ever since I started wearing this paper bag over my head, people just assumed I was ugly. Then I realized that one judges what they don’t see."

"I feel you. I spent years hiding parts of myself. But I can see that you're real, inside and out.” I glanced at her, hoping I wasn’t pushing it.

Her cheeks flushed slightly, and she looked down, seemingly flattered but hesitant. “That’s sweet of you, but I’m 32. I mean, that’s old for someone like you, right?”

“You’re not too old for me. We’re both adults just trying to figure things out in this strange world.” I replied, shaking my head.

As the conversation went on, we both began to share different snippets of our lives—our hopes and dreams, interests, and fears. In the end, we learned from each other that we were two lost souls who suffered major losses in our lives, both in the family and others close to us.

And with that, the night has gotten older, and everyone seems to be winding down. 

As Lily stretched in her chair, she glanced at the monkey, who had finally calmed down and curled up on the couch next to me. "Looks like your little friend is tired," she said. We both chuckled, though deep down, I wondered if it was more than his exhaustion. I didn’t want to think about what Yolanda’s experiments might have done to him.

"Yeah, he’s just sleepy."

Tipsy Lily swayed a little as she stood up, clearly feeling the effects of the gas station wine. “I think… I might’ve had a teeny-tiny bit too much,” she giggled while slurring her voice.

I started to wobble around but caught my balance. “Yeah, I’m feeling something coming on too. But don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

Step by step, I used all my remaining strength and wrapped my arm around her waist. “No, no, I’m good,” she mumbled and stumbled.

“Come on, I’ll walk you back to your place,” I said more confidently than I felt wasted. “Can’t have you collapsing in the hallway, especially in this place. I think I saw a rat run past out here.

For a moment, my muscles tensed as I felt a burst of strength, and I scooped her up in one swift motion. I was surprised by how easily I lifted her—like she weighed nothing at all. 

It felt natural.

“Whoa...where’d you get all that strength?” Lily remarked as she blinked at me. She looked surprised but didn’t pull away.

“Uhh, lifting boxes at work?” I said, throwing out the first random excuse that came to mind. 

She grinned softly, resting her head against my shoulder. “Ma parole...I didn’t think you had it in you, Mr. Funnel Head.”

I smiled along with her, although I still didn’t understand where that surge of energy had come from, even with alcohol in my system. 

I messed around with her keys until I finally opened the door. “Here we go. Home Sweet Home.”

Still loose with her balance, Lily looked at me with an unsteady smile. “Thanks, Mr. Florence... it’s nice to know someone’s got my back,” she murmured as we reached her room.

“Hey… any time.” I nodded, feeling relieved that everything went well. “And call me Foil.” 

“Alright, Foil. You have a good rest, you hear?” she responded with glee.

"I'll make an attempt," I said with a forced chuckle.

For the first time in a while, I felt like I’d let out everything I needed to, even if it was to a stranger. I hadn’t expected to open up to Lily like that—hell, I hadn’t expected her to even walk into my apartment. Maybe that made it easier. I returned to my room and saw the monkey lying on the couch. I flopped onto my bed, staring up at the ceiling. 

Today had been a day. A strange one. But not bad. Not bad at all.

The monkey, rubbing its eyes, peeked out from my door and wanted to climb up with me until he saw a rat scatter around in the room and was stirred up.

“Hey, no!” I shouted, stumbling as the monkey bolted after the rat. “That’s not Greta the Rat, leave it alone!” 

The rat slid under the bed, with the monkey hot on its tail.

“C’mon, buddy!” I called out, scrambling after him. “It’s not worth it! You can do better.”

The monkey hesitated before finally retreating from his hunt, climbing back onto the bed beside me. I stared down at him, running my hand across his furry face. 

If only there were more days like these, then only time would tell.