the playlist project

TPP: The 1975’s The Sound

My friend and I stepped into the office five minutes before the last shift of the week begins. It’s hard to drag your ass to work especially when it’s almost weekend, but usually, a good cup of iced coffee fixes it.

Is that your playlist playing? The 1975?” She asked, and I nodded to reply as I take my first sip of caffeine, hoping it will start my pulse as I take my station.

I began setting up my desk as she sat just right in front of me and continued to harrass me about it. “Didn’t know you listen to that.”

What?” I said, not looking at her as I prep for the next nine hours of work. “They’re indie. Until the mainstream radio ruined it for them, though, but they’re cool.”

“I didn’t say they’re bad. I just didn’t think you’re into these kind of songs,” she continued. “You don’t even know what their songs mean, I guess.”

I was just waiting for the clock to tick seven until I time in. When it did, I do what I usually do – time in, pause, breathe and sit back – until a client comes calling in.

Good for me, though, because my favorite song of this band just comes on the stereo, and me and my friend couldn’t help but sing to its first few lines.

Well I know when you’re around
’cause I know the sound
I know the sound, of your heart

“By the way, is he coming to work today?” she asked, pointing to the vacant desk beside me. “Heard he might be sick? If not, can I move my station beside yours?”

I know he was sick but I didn’t want to give everyone the impression that I know a lot, ’cause I don’t, and especially when they put malice into everything. But who knows? Maybe the poor bloke felt a bit better.

“Don’t. He’s coming around in a minute, I’m sure.” I told her.

“Really?”

“Yup.” I said. “I think he’ll be here.”

“Okay.”

The chorus went on again, and I smiled as I recited the dreaded line. Well I know when you’re around ’cause I know the sound, I know the sound, of your heart.

I leaned forward and told my friend, “You know what, that’s impossible. You don’t hear hearts. I mean, how can we?”

Before she can answer, the chair beside me suddenly moved. “Hey.”

“Oh hey.” I turned around and glanced at the clock, it’s 2 minutes past seven. “Traffic?”

He shook his head in disappointment without looking at us. “Every single day.”

We all laughed then it’s suddenly quiet. Our eyes were all glued on our screens, waiting for the calls coming in. Then I felt someone poking me on my elbow and it was her. “You’re wrong.”

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

She looked into my eyes and whispered. “We hear hearts,” then she looked at you, then back to me. “You just did.”

I gave her a confused look. But before I can say anything else, Matt Healy’s voice slapped me into my senses.

“Well I know when you’re around ’cause I know the sound, I know the sound, of your heart.”

Well, crap.

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