8 Chapter 7 - Ben's Waves

My puppet number two was a music man called Benjamin Norman, 25 years old.

Working as the leading vocalist and the guitarist of an indie band called - to my despair when I heard it - "Ben's waves". I wasn't at all interested in the other wooden scraps of the band, but Ben caught my eyes due to his style. Lanky and his skin slightly tanned, he had long brunette hair and ocean blue eyes. The freckles didn't take away his points at all from him, and as a matter of fact it added to his youthful vibrance. Chain shaped ear-ring - about 5 centimeters in length - that he wore on his left ear suits him very well and he fancied himself as a fashionista, although I could clearly tell from my experience with many men that he'd Google the latest recommendations of fashion to impress.

Ben admittedly was a good singer, no doubt about that (although I didn't quite appreciate his spam of vibratos and falsettos in every single verse), but for someone who tried so hard to stand out to be anti-establishment in his lyricism he sure did care about what other people cared about his music, which I thought still to this day; dull and boring (he doesn't know that of course). Regardless,he had a good body with just enough muscles to be appealing but not too many to be 'too much', and he was like a home dog that didn't bark when I would leave him alone for a few days without contact. Whenever I was feeling distressed with Haruki and other sub-puppets I'd occasionally reward Ben with a date to decrease my stress a little bit. If Haruki provided financial satisfaction, Ben was a kid that'd provide me with more confidence as I'm walking on the streets with this well carved mannequin.

"What's wrong puppy?" Mid-range tone was the sweet spot whenever I talked to Ben. Too high I reckoned would annoy him, too low didn't make me feel sexy enough and it made my throat sore after the ordeals.

"Ah, sorry, I- I just wanted to see how you're doing."

His voice was so clear, and it was shaking a little bit. I found all of that so cute. I guess it has been a while since I fed him my attention.

"I'm doing fine, it was a stressful day though. Lots of work. what about you, darling?"

I held my phone by sticking it in between my right shoulder and cheeks, having my right head tilted, shoulder pushed up. Walking towards the table in the kitchen, I brought out the nail polish from my bag.

"I just, I just made songs you know. I think this one is going to be a hit."

Typical. He says that after every dumb song he writes.

"I'm sure it will be. I believe in you!"

"Got it. D'ya want to listen to what I've got so far?"

This is why I leave him alone for a while before contacting him. He was a tiresome guy.

"Sure, oh my gosh- I'm so excited you don't understand. Go on, sing away."

Red is a bit too flamboyant. Maybe I'll change the nail colours to a bit of a shiny, clear sparkle.

"I made sure the chords were kinda simple because I wanted to focus on the lyrics. It's got quite a lot of minor chords, but I made sure the chord progression sounded warm, so it resolves really cool at the end. I'm also thinking of adding in a few 7s and 9s."

Damn. I forgot where I put the clear nail polish. The remover was in my handbag, so let's apply that first.

"I was thinking hard about what I should have the subject be, because it's got this jazzy blues vibe to it, but in the end I decided that it'd be cool to use metaphor on love you know? to describe unrequited love in a way a puppy would to his or her master."

Pinky to the ring finger, ring finger to the middle finger. Middle finger to the forefinger, and lastly to the thumb. I slowly applied the nail removers. I should have done it earlier, as some of the nail polishing were chipped away. I wonder why I didn't pay so much attention to them.

"It's kind of like, a puppy might love his or her master with all his heart but a master might not you know? Occasional petting, a walk in a park and some food could be all that's provided. I thought that was a good metaphor. What do you think?"

I blew on my fingernails. The breezy feeling provided by the remover hit my nails and the strong alcoholic smell hit my nose. I had a strange addiction to these sorts of smells.

"Awh. That sounds like such a perfect idea. Baby, you're such a clever boy. I'm so proud of you." My voice was kind of croaky, but I'm sure that's just a minute detail right now. He's already in his zone, and to be quite blunt, so was I.

He sang. Usual vibrators, usual falsettos on top of slow and steady chord progressions. It reminded me a bit of a knock-off Radiohead song, but whatever. I didn't really listen to his lyrics. I just don't listen to the boy in general when he wanders off about his so called themes and subject matters. They were boring to me, and as he danced through his rhythms, I just simply focused on what mattered to me most right now - polishing my nails.

By the time I was done with all the removal of the previous nail art on my ten fingers, he was also done with his music. The silence hit the phone for a while. Was he waiting for my feedback?

"...wow." I muttered, my voice now to a near whisper.

"It was so amazing that I lost my words."

"Really? do you really think so?" I could tell his voice was elated. I guess he thought his 'thematics' and 'lyrics' hit home with me.

"I think I'm going to hum the melody before I go to sleep. I don't think it'll leave my head."

Forgot already.

"Thank you," he giggled excitedly,

"I'll make sure to improve on some parts, especially the bridge section which I'm still working on."

"You do that then. Focus! You have to get on with your hustle, don't you?"

The best way to get rid of a musician out of your sight was to make sure you tell them to 'keep going' or 'you should record your stuff now!' with added arbitrary compliments. They were so easy to motivate. Just a little bit of stroking ego does charm in making them run.

"I will do that. I'll send you the sound file when me and the band record a proper studio version!"

"That's my boy right there." I faked a chuckle,

"You have a good night's sleep okay?" I picked up the phone from between my head and shoulders, to give the kiss at the internal microphone attached. That was my way of saying go away. It was a piece of bone thrown the furthest a master can so the puppy would take as long as possible to fetch it.

"You too...Alicia." He kissed back, in which I pulled off my phone from near my ears as a reaction. How vile. I didn't ask him to do that. Did he perhaps think he made a romantic move?

Well, just like that, he was gone. I guess he wanted to portray himself as a 'romantic movie protagonist that walks away after kissing the heroine'. Didn't work for me at all though.

After the phone call cut off, I was silent. More silent than before, I could hear my own breathing and even the heartbeat, and the room sort of 'fixing' itself into place with its ticks.

I wonder what I'm doing. It almost felt like even after my boring 9 to 5 I was still working, this time as a service agent that provides fake smiles and fake courtesy in order to satisfy my situation. It was one of them nights - which I have every now and then - where I'm reflective of myself and circumstances, where I ponder upon whether I was doing good for myself and others by living this way.

No. I'm sure I wasn't doing anything wrong.

From my experiences, from my perspective, I was giving my puppets what they want. My presence. My smiles. The illusion of 'me' that they want and crave. I deserved something back in return. It was only natural to want something back from them. I wasn't doing anything wrong. So, in a way, it's a win-win situation. Nobody could claim me. I will not be monopolised by anybody. I will take as many puppets as I pleased. But during the time I'll provide to the best of my abilities what they want from me. It was like a contract. It was work. Nothing less, nothing more, nothing wrong about it.

I sighed.

It was a cold ass night.

I wonder what that stupid bartender is doing right now.