TWENTY - THREE

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2013.
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SOMEWHERE in Melbourne, there is a small neighborhood where two houses face one another: one with its outer walls painted a light blue, and the other a light cream, and in those houses, two very different children were raised. Despite this, the two children in question found themselves constantly talking, running garage to garage, or sitting on each other's front door steps to do homework, with a little bit of messing around on the side.

In 2013, Maia was twelve, and Oscar hadn't come to see her for two whole days, which wasn't the end of the world, but still worrying nonetheless.

He hadn't come to school for a bit, but even when he was sick, he'd always make it a point to go see Maia in-person and ask what he had missed in his absence.

Again, Maia hadn't seen him in two days, meaning that he hadn't even come by asking about school either.

So, Maia, with her little side-bang and babydoll top, had decided to ask her mom if she could go visit Oscar across the street, and she was happily allowed to since her mom was just that cool.

She entered the Piastri household using the emergency key hidden in the dirt of a potted plant by the door, and Mrs. Piastri wasn't all too surprised by the unannounced visit, especially since she was the one who said she could use said emergency key whenever she wanted to come by.

"Hi, Mrs. Piastri!" She greeted, as she always did, taking off her pink converse at the door.

Oscar's mom, who was cutting up some carrots for a meal, looked to the girl with a smile as she put down the knife and wiped her hands. "Maia! Good to see you, Hon!"

She walked up to the girl to give her a hug, which was happily reciprocated with small arms.

"Is Oscar here?" Maia asked, holding onto the older woman.

Mrs. Piastri sighed, letting go of the young girl. "Yeah, he's upstairs in his room. Been in a bit of a mood recently, though. He said it was because of his cold so I let him stay home from school for the past few days but, I'm not sure if he's telling the truth," she explains. "If you want, you can check up on him. Just be gentle."

Maia nodded in confirmation. "Okay."

"I'm serious. I don't want to hear any of those crazy jokes you guys like to share when you're playing," she chuckled, returning back to her place at the cutting board. "Please."

UNTIL THE SONG WAS DONE, oscar piastriWhere stories live. Discover now