Making his way heavily up to the top of the stairs, Brannon reached up to drop his aviator sunglasses down from the top of his head to the bridge of his nose just as he pushed his way through the door. His elbow pushing the handle as he leaned most of his weight into it, Brannon stepped out into the rooftop.
Fuck, it was bright.
Scrunching up his nose as he furthered his way along the graveled rooftop, letting the door close behind him, Brannon gave a curious look around.
You see, he hadn't expected to see anyone else around. As far as Brannon was concerned, this was his secret hiding spot. Never mind that random people always found their way out onto the roof too. He still considered it his spot. Or one of his spots. He liked to hang out all over the place. But that was beside the point.
Reaching back to tug the obviously very back issue of Ladies Home Journal from his back pocket, he rolled it up in his hands, holding it close to his chest as he hesitantly took a few more steps toward the woman. He was just about to speak up when Adelaide turned to him first.
Using the rolled up magazine to motion toward her, he shrugged, "I---" he drew out the syllable longer than normal, really. Tilting his head from side to side, he considered the question before continuing, "I try not to think too much about it?"
If they were being honest.
"A couple of months ago I started thinking about that Odd Couple remake and whether or not someone would have still been letting that train wreck air on television, today. I cried a little too." He shrugged.
"And then, Orange Is The New Black. I mean, what? Do they just keep jumping from prison to prison? What happens when they all get out? Are they going to all get out?? Jesus."
Was she really crying about TV? Or had it been something else? You could never be too sure, these days. Emotions were high and people cried about everything and at any given time, too!