Far from the Usual

color? fun for 10am.

for the hell of it.

today was a normal saturday. you woke up around 9:45 just as the sun was beaming bright. turning on your routinely playlist consisting of music joe introduced you to, songs you loved, and whatever else suited your fancy for a sunny saturday morning. you sang along whilst making your daily cup of coffee, dancing around as the water boiled, and heated itself.
 
after a few minutes, your brew was prepared to your personal perfection as there was a knock at the door.
 
you opened the apartment door and exposed a casual, yet proper woman. you had seen her in photos around nick and joe's apartments, she looked like a matriarch. some sort of royalty in her own respects. "umm...hello?" you spoke reluctantly. she eyed you after you gave her the informal salutation. "you must be [y/n]. i'm denise." she smiled politely. "yes. would you like to come in?" you moved to the side and allowed her to enter the flat you shared with demi. denise stepped in and headed for the couch, placing herself on the cushion. it didn't take you long to figure out why she was here. "could you give me a moment?" you politely ask. she nods and lets you out from her line of vision while you disappear into demi's room.
 
there lay your roommate, sleeping soundly, so peacefully. you'd hate to wake her up. "demetria! i hate you!" you grabbed her pillow and began hitting her with it, waking her from her slumber. "ah!" she yelped. "sh!" you hush her, keeping her from bothering denise out in the living space. "you called their mom on me!?" you grit. "denise is here? already? she said 9:50." demi yawns. "it is 9:50!" you snap. "you called nick and joe's mother on me!? you snitched!?" you grimace, hitting her again repeatedly with her pillow. "make yourself presentable and go out there with me." you digress. "hell no!" she refused. "she's not gonna know anything when she leaves!" you revolt. "well, i will! that's why she's here! to get all the crap you've been doing with her sons out of you!" the songstress gave out. "you're worse than i am! you're using her!" you snap. "and she knows it!" demi grabbed her pillow out from your hands and turned over. "i hate you." you say again before going out to properly meet your match.
 
you enter the living space again and give mrs. jonas a convincing smile. "demi seems to be unavailable." you sigh and grab your coffee. you needed the caffeine. "no, i'm here for you, or at least, that's what demi invited me for." she shrugs as you sit down. "so why did demi invite you all this way for? beside me, of course." you glance at the tan liquid in your 'sleeping beauty' mug. "she had mentioned something about you, joseph, and nicholas." denise straightened out when using her sons' full names. "that's a very long story, denise, and it's too tiring to even think about." you shake your head. "then why would demi mention it?" the mother asked. "demi's trying to get it out of me and that's why you're here. i promise not to waste your time, so if you'd like to leave, i'd understand." you nod kindly. "why don't we just have coffee and get to know each other then? i came all this way for you and demi. i'd rather not let my invitation go to waste." she smiles. "okay? what would you like?" you ask before getting up to go over to your coffee machine. "decaf, 1 sugar, and light creamer." she says. you nod and prep the maker and grab a mug for her. "coming right up." you smile. "so where to start?" you glance over at her eying a photo on the end table by her armrest. "why don't you tell me about this photo of you and these people around you." she says, holding out the picture frame. "oh that?" you say uncertainly. "those are my friends from back home. we were hanging out one night in my bedroom and had a dull moment until i pulled out my camera and took random photos. " you smile at the memory as you glance at the image. you get back to the machine and pour her a cup of the decaf before making it to how she likes it. "that sounded like you were very social." denise laughs lightly. "what about your family?" she asks. "oh, my parents are divorced." you begin. "i have a sister, but we don't speak to each other anymore," you add. "and my dad remarried this wicked witch from the bible belt." you cringe. "do you have any brothers?" she asks again. "my step-brothers cut me out from the picture when i rebelled against their mom and her wretched ways of religion." you walk over to denise with her cup of coffee, handing it to her. "thank you." she mutters and sips it. "well, you're welcome into my family, if you'd like." she adds with a chuckle. "so why don't you and your sister speak?" she shifts gears into something more serious. "we never got along. i mean, she's my older sister and we fought a lot until we both just went our own ways." you shrug. "what about your mother? do you talk with her?" mrs. jonas looks to you. "sometimes, maybe once a week when she's not busy with work." you sip your coffee again before your phone goes off. "oh, excuse me." you smile politely and answer your phone. you glance at your caller id and see that it's nick. "hey, can i call you back? i have company." you say softly. "i just wanted to know if you'd wanna go out to lunch?" he asks. "i'll get back to you. catch you later, okay?" you reply as you glance at his mother drinking her coffee. "sure." he sighs. "love you, bye." you sign-off and hang up. "sorry about that. it was a friend." you lie. "oh, that's alright." denise nods and sips her coffee again. "you were saying about your family?" she adds to restart your conversation. "right." you nod and sit down again. "and my evil step-mother, helen." you begin. "she's a very devout old-school baptist. she hates almost anything and everything not right in the means of following The Word." you roll your eyes. "how so?" the woman asks. "she hates me because i'm following my catholic roots." you say. "she hates that i'm okay with gay marriage and people of different backgrounds." you continue. "what about your dad? isn't he catholic too?" she asked before sipping her drink. "no, he was methodist, but let my mom raise me catholic, and now he's baptist just like helen." you nod and drink down the rest of your coffee. "that seems unsettling." denise concludes as a knocking at your door occurred. "i'll get that." you nod one more time and answer your door.
 
it was joe, in a fine tuxedo, on one knee with a little black box in his hands, presented to you.