I found myself leaning back on the stiff, hard bench as I took a moment to rest. I placed my hands on the metal armrests - frigid as they soaked up the winter air, though one would scarcely believe it was the season of frost as the air was saturated with energy as the bustle of crowds, the echoes of tunes, and the warmth of multicolored lights filled the park.
As I looked around, my eyes could bask in the splendor of the frivolously outlandish structures and the zany yet intricate machinery that powered each eccentric ride.
Ah, indeed, it was quite a contrast to the unmoving freeze associated with October.
But we should begin somewhere else, to a moment more convenient for today's tale.
"I know we got the green light from Alex for this, but..." I remarked as we walked through the front gate, leaving our tickets by the booth and moseying past without worry.
"It feels like we're skipping work?" Myla continued my sentence, turning around and facing me with a slight smirk, "It's a rewarding job from time to time, no?"
"That we can agree on," I replied as we left the shadow of the gate behind us, with the morning sun's rays fading onto the scene and painting the canvas with bright hues of reds and yellows as we entered the park proper.
It has been a hot minute,
I mean a longish amount of time by that. Sorry, slang is weird.
Since I had last visited an amusement park. I mean, I was getting old after all. The thrillseeker within me was far from what he was all those years ago.
No, Bridger, looking for fun in your mid-twenties is a perfectly reasonable, if not necessary, expectation.
The idea was to put me, Myla, Fable, and Gale in a situation where we were forced to get along, and where better to be forced to act friendly than an amusement park? Aside from maybe a proper counseling room or a meeting with in-laws.
I'm kidding. Amanda's parents were sweetpeas, and she inherited every drop of their kindness. Also, I still call her father dad.
It wasn't a perfect plan - in all honesty, there were probably better ones, but it did give us a chance to see the two in the context of being a couple. Plus, it was most likely Fable's idea.
"By the way," I spoke once I had sufficiently taken in awe of the place, "Don't you think you should've worn more layers?"
"I'll be fine. We'll be moving around a lot, anyway." Myla replied, maintaining her prideful amble in her admittedly charming ensemble.
She wore a light gray sleeveless turtleneck accented with a plunging cardigan worn in a peculiar way. The navy blue article was tucked into her white pleated pants and was so loose and oversized that it fell off her shoulders and was almost down to her elbows. The quaint getup was tied together with a pair of boots and a low, messy bun, which bundled up her ashen locks into a mess of silver with a pair of round glasses atop her perky nose.
"Fashion over comfort, eh? I can respect that." I joked, giving my partner a grin as she stood a touch taller today.
"Like I told you, I'll be fi-fi-" Though it seemed the weather was already getting to her as she held back a sneeze.
"Right." I continued to grin, straightening my posture and turning my saunter into a brisk walk, "Let's get moving to warm you up then." And so we did.
Each step we took on the red-bricked road of the park felt strangely nostalgic, as if each square inch of the place held a distant yet resonant memory, gifted to the tens or hundreds of thousands of people who have stepped foot in this world of commercialized wonder.
On one side, you could hear the cheers of friend groups and families, and on the other, the sounds of heavy machinery that threw people into the sky as the smell of sweets coated the cold air. It was an experience not quite like any other.
I tucked my face into my red wool scarf, my stubble catching on the soft fabric as I took breaths through it - the dry air turning to warmth each time I exhaled.
"Bridger! Myla!" A voice shouted, even against the murmurs of the crowds - its distinct ring caught our ears as we shot our gazes toward the call, "Over here! Before the lines get too long, come on!"
"And a pleasant morning to you too, Fable." Myla sarcastically replied, though her stern voice would have you believe otherwise.
We walked toward the two, passing through the river of moving bodies that scrambled to each attraction to get to the bench they sat at.
"Any trouble getting here?" The young woman asked with a snow-melting smile as we arrived before her, "It's quite the drive from your HQ, isn't it?"
"A fair bit, yeah. But Myla manages." I answered as I pulled down my scarf to speak to her.
It seemed the two chose practicality over fashion as both donned heavy layers perfect for the season.
Fable wore a heavy, dirty white button coat under which I could vaguely see dress overalls and a long-sleeved shirt. The real eye-catcher, however, was her scarf - er, hat - no, uhm, hat scarf? Yeah, sure, her black hat scarf that snugly clung to her.
On the other hand, the young woman's other half was less ditzy, rocking, pun intended, a thick, black ribbed sweater, some denim, and a contrasting oversized and almost prismatic scarf that reached his waist along with a supple pair of snow white earmuffs atop his gold-tinged hair.
"...I feel underdressed," Myla whispered - doing her best to hide the slight awkwardness in her voice.
"If you mean fashion-wise, no. If you mean for the weather, yes." I replied, doing the same to protect my partner's pride.
Don't worry. This just means I'll make fun of her at a different time.
However, as I got lost in getups and gags, I completely forgot that our last meeting ended on less than agreeable terms, realizing far too late as I found myself awkwardly looking down at Gale.
"Uhm...Hi." These were the only words I could mouth as I shrank into my coat, my voice mixing with the cacophonous murmurs of the many passersby.
Gale stared into my eyes - his own baring hues similar to the winter clouds hovering over the park. I couldn't tell what he was thinking, perhaps because I wasn't sure what I was thinking either.
"Oh, hello." He finally replied, seamlessly transitioning from thought to a simple smile, "It's nice that you made it, though your partner seems to have forgotten a few layers." Gale quipped, surprising me as I thought he'd be in anything but a joking mood.
"I'm allowed to wear what I want, okay?" Myla shot back, sighing a small gust of cold air as she did.
"Why, 'cause you're cold-blooded?" I teased, leaning forward to meet her gaze and present my badgering smile.
Her eyebrows furrowing was enough of an answer, but she still spoke, "You do know cold-blooded animals stay away from the cold, right?"
But before I could reply, someone else beat me to the punchline.
"Sounds like something only a cold-blooded reptile would say." Gale added with an equally goading smirk, "It's fine, you're secret's safe with us." He finished, hiding his lips with his hand and speaking softly.
"Guys- Come on-" While it was a valiant effort, Fable covered her mouth to hide a laugh, prompting Myla to groan in defeat.
"Well then, good to see you two have already made up. Shall we all go home?" My dear partner added, giving her comedic duo a glare that could destroy bridges and turn gales frigid.
"Right!" Fable stood up, arms flared and scarf dancing in the wind, "We know why we're here, to make up and..." She turned to her partner, making a drawn-out mmm sound to coax him into continuing her statement.
"To apologize, yes, but I still-" Gale answered, but his better half was having none of his excuses.
"No buts, young man," The equally young woman interjected, placing her hands on her partner's slim shoulders, "Do it for me, okay?" And with an impeccable smile one would have to be mad to refuse, Gale caved as his expression turned to a weary smile.
It was a small interaction, but it told me something.
Gale would do a whole hell of a lot for his partner, even go out on a trip with someone he only met a few days ago after having a screaming match in public.
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"And as for you!" Fable called out to me, "Don't think I don't sense your hesitation either." It seemed someone was paying a far closer eye than I expected.
"Well- I mean, it's not like I'm opposed to this id-" But the woman in white pushed on.
"Myla, mind helping me convince this one?" She locked arms with my partner in blue, pulling her close.
"Fable - this is our job, that's more than enough-" Myla objected, though she seemed alright with being held as only her words opposed the request.
"Nope! You can do better than that girl!" The young woman insisted, her eyes and voice tinged with an eager flame, "What say you two?"
"Yes, please," I replied in an instant.
"Sure, I'm down." Likewise, Gale did the same.
Myla's visage curled and furrowed as we each elicited her ire with our request.
"Come on, use those charms of yours, sister!" Fable
The three of us waited in bated breath to see whether or not Myla was willing to act cute for the sake of her seemingly one weakness - her girlfriends.
"...Bridger?" I nearly jumped as she finally spoke, her ears shining pink as Fable planted her face firmly next to Myla's warming cheeks.
"Yes?" I asked, admittedly anticipating something adorable or at least funny.
"Do it or else." She said with no flair, sweetness, or even a hint of humanity for that matter.
And so, like the independent and god-given-life man I am, I reacted in the most reasonable and masculine way possible when confronted with an authority figure.
"Yes, ma'am."
"Perfect." Myla's stone face suddenly turned animate, "Let's go then." My partner added with the absolute sweetest smile as Fable dragged her away on the bricked path.
Then again, she doesn't look too fussed about this arrangement.
As I watched my other half get yanked away by Gale's better half, I took a whiff of the cold air and condensed it into a weary sigh, but it seemed I wasn't alone in this idea as my grumble harmonized with that of Gale's.
We looked at each other in slight surprise before immediately unlocking gazes and wordlessly tailing the two further into the park.
The first stop was the park's coveted funhouse.
Pedantism aside, there is little need for me to describe to you what a funhouse is. You get what you expect from reading the tin - a house of fun, or at least that's what it tries to be.
This particular house stood more like a castle drawn by a child, yet even so, from a glance, it did fulfill its namesake.
From the cartoonishly vivid colors that dyed each asymmetric pillar and wall with reds and yellows - to the moving floors and whimsical music, and most importantly...
"This goddamned line!- Oh, we're next." I swallowed my complaints as the metal gate was opened to us as the previous group exited.
We each gave our ticket to the operator and strolled in, preparing ourselves for the advertised fun of the attraction.
"You know these things are like glorified obstacle courses, right?" I asked the group as we navigated the maze of barriers into the house - the music growing louder with each step.
"I'm well aware, why?" Myla replied from in front, looking over her shoulder, "Worried your 'aging' body won't be able to handle a little fun?"
"No, I'm worried that if you enter a place literally called a 'funhouse', your very being might implode." I joked back as we reached the end of the metal fences and into the house's backyard.
And oh God, maybe I should've been worried.
"Starting off strong with the discs, huh?" Gale commented as he looked ahead with worry- his eyes spinning along with the floor itself.
A common sight in these places was rotating discs of multicolored nature, made to offset your balance and-
"The only thing you should be worried about," My thoughts were suddenly cut short as a young woman in white exclaimed, filling the cold air with energy, "Is making it to the end first!" Fable continued as she grabbed Gale by the hand and began running through the space - hopping from one disc to the other with incredible agility as her partner was practically hauled along.
At the end was a sharp turn where the two disappeared, leaving Myla and I impressed but not surprised as we turned to each other.
"Well then, after you?" I politely told my dear partner, gesturing at the revolving path with a courteous smile.
"Gentlemanly as ever, let's go then," Myla replied before hopping forward onto the discs.
I followed and was immediately greeted with a terrific hit of nausea as the world began to spin - my feet shaking as I struggled to keep my balance, flailing my arms around as I did.
I timed my jumps with each platform, executing some clumsy footwork as my inertia battled the urge to fall over face-first until I eventually made it to the end, Myla following closely behind as her feet touched the comfortably unmoving floor with a graceful recovery with her arms outstretched as she did.
I looked at her with a brief smile at our accomplishment before said expression was wiped clean off the face of the earth as I turned to my left and saw the next obstacle on our path.
"Might wanna pick up the pace, you two!" Fable shouted from beyond the rotating cylinder that spun almost hypnotically with its red and blue stripes.
"Fable..." Gale spoke through hurried breaths as a growing cloud of mist appeared with each exhale, "Can we take a moment to catch our brea-" His words were cut short as his partner's hand tugged him by the sleeve and threw him up further into the cartoonishly avant-garde abode.
"Alley-oop!" She exclaimed with childish glee as she followed her partner-turned-ragdoll.
"When did this become a race..?" I murmured the question as my eyes spun with the contraption before us - like a kaleidoscope taken tangible form.
"Who knows?" Myla replied, stretching her arms and legs as she took a stance low to the colorful ground, "All I know is that we have to catch up." She declared with cold conviction, and before I could stop her, she sprung forth into the swirl.
She got about halfway through the structure before the inevitable blunder happened - the trick is to go slow and steady.
Her balance began to waver as her earlier fleet-footedness turned into a shaking mess, with her hands reaching for the walls to regain her footing - an evident impossibility with the omnidirectional movement of the cylinder.
"Myla, that's not how you're supposed to..." I stopped mid-sentence to try and help her, placing my foot into the unsteady wheel and making my way toward her - though it was starting to look like a man who couldn't swim was trying to rescue someone from drowning.
I arrived at her back, only barely more poised, "Just steady your legs and-" But it seemed my warning was a little too late as when I spoke, she turned to face me and finally lost her foothold, causing me to flinch and close my eyes.
"...And hold out your..?" I continued my sentence but abruptly stopped for the second time as I felt a weight fill my hands and, "Arms?" And upon reopening my eyelids, my partner had landed into my clasp.
I could feel her tiny fingers grip tightly on my forearms even through the thick coat, and her warm breaths and wintry fragrance stuck to me with each passing moment that I interlocked with her as I looked down onto her amber gaze.
And while it could've been the dizzying spin of colors messing with my eyes, I'm sure I could make out her face take on a rosy hue - not that I was immune to such a reaction either as I felt my face fill with heat.
"...Let's take things slow, okay?" I managed to eke out as our eyes remained locked, small nods being the only response my partner could muster.
The way her hair gently sways, her soft skin through my gloved fingers, and we've spent way too much time without taking a step, haven't we?
I was a tad slow on the uptake, as when the thought crossed my mind, we remained frozen in place before consequently losing both our footings in our impromptu embrace and falling over like idiots - luckily straight out of the cylinder and onto the sheet metal flooring.
"That went well..." I commented, standing up and dusting myself off before holding my hand out to my partner.
"Well enough." She replied through a casual guise as I pulled her up, and she recomposed herself - luckily seemingly unscathed.
We both turned to our side and saw a set of uneven stairs that moved up and down, climbing up with little difficulty as the funhouse turned house of horrors finally threw us a bone.
However, once we reached the top, we were greeted with the final challenge of the miniature circus, one that made me reflect on whether this experience was worth the physical and mental headache.
"Mirror maze...Of course." I mumbled as I stared into the many Bridgers before me.
We began to navigate the transparent labyrinth slowly and steadily, doing well to avoid colliding with the glass by holding our hands out as we moved. We made some leeway into the maze, making it to...Uhm..? Halfway? Yeah, sure, halfway before we spoke of something non-trivial enough to be noteworthy.
"Still no sight of the two, huh?" I asked, staring into the near and distant photo-duplicates of myself moving in synch with my steps, "We've been roaming for a while, no?"
"What? Afraid we might lose the race?" Myla asked, her cold tone masking whether or not her query was sarcastic or matter-of-fact.
I turned to face her as she was surrounded by perfect multiples of herself from each side - a nightmare in most scenarios, but here it was a constant. I placed my hand forward, dragging it along to the side to see where to go next, and as we turned the corner safely, I continued our dialogue.
"Nope, you seem more enthusiastic about that, in all honesty."
"I'm allowed to enjoy myself, Bridger." She remarked with lowered eyebrows on the mirror in front of us, "Whatever the case, we'll see them sooner than you think." She added, and as if responding to her verbal cue, a young woman in white came into view, materializing from out of thin air - meaning it was just her reflection.
This assumption was given further credence as she paid no mind to us being a dozen or so feet to her left.
Her lips parted as she began to speak, the volume of her words and her reflection's distance mismatched, "As long as we hug left, this'll be a breeze, right, Gale?-" Though one could still easily confirm it was indeed Fable as she walked straight into a glass, producing an oddly satisfying conk sound as she did.
That looked like it hurt. She must be in a lot of...pane. What? Where's that annoying sitcom laugh track when you need it...
"Owie..." the young girl mouthed, caressing her noggin as she did and prompting her partner to rush to her aid.
Conk.
...And now they're matching.
But before I could sigh in disappointment, the pair that were now on the floor bruised and hurt showed no signs of pain but instead...laughter.
They shared a chuckle, smiling at each other with a warmth that felt like spring had come early, placing their hands on each other's scrapes, helping each other stand up - the simple action resembling a coordinated dance. And with a small kiss to the forehead of Gale's better half, the two guided each other to the exit, hand-in-hand.
It would be even more romantic if they didn't bump into another wall just five seconds later...
I turned to Myla once the pair were out of sight, equally enamored by the interaction as her lips curled ever so slightly.
"Guess we should go after them then, eh?-"
Conk.
"Pfft..." As much as she tried, the halls echoed her reaction, telling me exactly how she felt.
"...I heard that."
"Apologies." That's what she said, but the tiny smile turned into an overt grin on her pale face betrayed any requests for forgiveness.