Do You Get Deja Vu Too?

𝟬𝟭. 𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝘆 𝗧𝗼 𝗡𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗕𝗲 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗦𝗮𝗺𝗲

｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ✱. ｡✧*.｡✰ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ✱ :｡✧*.｡✰

~ September 2018 ~

( Isabel's POV, Age 12 )

I memorized every single tree stump and bush along the way, yet still not bemused of the plain sight that layed ahead. Did we really have to move from our former home sweet home? Sure, we're still living somewhere in Silver Lake, but I reckon the neighborhood won't be the same. Sure, we're even closer to the infamous Sunset and Vine and that's vividly convenient, but that's still no valid reason to move away from where I established all of my childhood memories.

I peered through the passenger side window and adjusted my earphones, listening to Taylor Swift's opening reputation track Ready For It?... In reality I really wasn't ready for it at all. I'm not very tame and it'll never be the same now. Once we arrived to our destination, my mom greeted the men unloading our boxes from the truck parked right across our new house.

Meanwhile that whole ruckus unraveled, I stayed well cooped inside the car and instead layed all my focus on some guy passing by repeatedly on his skateboard. The whole thing somewhat intrigues me?... Luckily my little sister, Camilla, wasn't there to witness it all, or else she'd probably start teasing me. Oh, you know how snarkfully playful eight year olds can get.

I shake it off- that damned, absurd feeling- and rush inside our new house. Perhaps then I could take my mind off this mysterious guy. I refuse to feel captivated by some dude who I don't even know and will probably never see again in my lifetime.

While unpacking all my boxes into my brand new room, I couldn't help but to once again peer outside at him, but this time he's surrounded by two other guys. One is sporting a t-shirt of The Weeknd and wearing thick-rounded glasses. The other has reddish hair and mainly gives off indie vibes with that guitar case in his hand. Now that I'm looking at the reddish hair one closer, he kind of reminds me of a younger Ed Sheeran. I'll nickname him 'The Gingerbread Man'. I'll nickname the other guy "The Weeknd Stan".

Now, for our main guy, he has that Harry Styles daydream look in his eyes, so I'll nickname him "Harry". Imagine if his name would really happen to be Harry, that'd be such a crazy coincidence. Not that I'll ever know of course because the odds of me approaching this dude anytime soon are quite low. I think even a One Direction reunion is more likely to occur than meeting "Harry".

'Harry' dribbled the basketball right around the parking drive way, shooting it towards the hoop that was heaved above the lampost. 'The Weeknd Stan' deemed away from the basketball, as if he had some sort of fear of sports. He continued to adjust his thick-rounded glasses as he slightly stepped away from the driveway basketball court each time 'Harry' tossed the ball.

 'The Gingerbread Man' stood there unamused, plucking the strings to his guitar to the tune of Ed Sheeran songs. I'm only now starting to wonder why 'Harry' even invited these friends of him over if they seem to despise sports. I don't blame them though, basketball is brutal. I've never had the opportunity to play basketball much due to my short stature of a mere 5'3 feet tall. 

I shrugged off the thought of encountering 'Harry' and his seemingly sane friends, and instead ran back towards the front porch. I plopped right into the cold, hard ground and let out a doomful sigh. What was I to do in a suburban town like this broad one?

Tick tock on the clock chimed my cellphone as I scrolled through my Spotify playlist consisting of all my favorite songs. It was the same playlist I had been listening to earlier before we got settled into our new house and unpacked our luggage and personal belongings. I chose out 'Never Be The Same' by Camila Cabello to set the unfazed mood of the moment. Sneaking in L.A. when the light are soon to go low is surely something, especially when I don't know a single thing about it.

I hazed around the unfamiliar setting, unsure of how to conceal these frantic, newfound beginnings. I've ultimately decided to pace around the utterly prodigal block and become acquainted with this fundamental area that is bound to feel like home sweet home someday.

'The Weeknd stan stood tall and waved from afar. I sheepishly smiled and waved back, pacing further and farther from 'Harry's' house. Being the socially awkward and insecure girl I am, there's no way I was ready to strike any conversation with 'Harry' and his crowd of friends. Sure someday I deviously plan to, but someday just isn't today. It's quite the shame.

~ The very next day ~

Oh, of course my very own mom instructed me to meet and greet our next door neighbors. I pouted in annoyance the whole time during breakfast, reluctant to embrace her orders of marking a good, lasting impression on those who live right next door. What would I even say? I'm the worst at cracking up conversation.

I grabbed my songwriting journal ambled outside, hoping my mom would be content with me at least stepping foot out from the house and into the Silver Lake madness that lies right ahead. There he was again- the skater boy- and in the broad 10 am daylight, he looks even more handsome than yesterday. Perhaps I'm jinxing a possible future One Direction reunion, but would whipping up a mastermind plan to meet this "Harry" be a tad too machiavellian?

No one wanted to play with me as a little kid, so I guess I've been scheming like a criminal ever since. You can't just rely on life to hand you scenario just like that. You ought to lay the groundwork and plan ahead of what could be if you make it happen yourself.

I paved my way towards the dented boardwalk and "accidentally" dropped my journal the very moment "Harry" skateboarded his way over. His eyes lit up and immediately stopped right before running my journal over.

He knelt down and picked it up, elitely handing me my journal over. " This must be yours? " He inquired?

" Uh- yes, I write songs there " I lightly chuckled of embarrassment.

" The next Taylor Swift I see " He joked.

I lightly gasped at his remark. " How'd you know that I listen to Taylor Swift? "

" Well, it's not exactly a secret with all the stickers placed across your Journal cover. " He pointed out, eyeing out the 3 inch stickers that read swiftie quotes like 'there will be no further explanation; there is only reputation' and 'loving him was red'. 

" Oh... " I mumbled in pure embarrassment. 

" So, you must be the new neighbor of mine that moved right next door, right? " He sparked a homely conversation. 

" Yep! " I timidly replied. I'm not usually like this but goddamn, this 'Harry' dude is causing the butterflies in my stomach to churn and my heartbeat to beat rapidly. It's so fucking cliche but it's the pure truth and I shouldn't deny it. However, accepting it doesn't necessarily mean telling him what I'm feeling. That'd be insane!

" I guess I'll be seeing you around then! " He spouted a farewell as he hopped right back into his slick skateboarding routine and roamed around the remainder of the block.

Well now I know for certain that after one conversation with him and I'm ready to truly never be the same.