Harold was an interesting man to say the least, he was always there for you, if in a good way, or just there to say screw you, either way you were his best friend, even if you both had some fights here and there.

His birthday was yesterday, but he spent it with his “friends”, people you didn’t know, so you didn’t go with, even if he invited you. Oh well, you came over the next day with some presents and a cake, yayyyy.

November 26th(idk his birthday), 1982 present

you arrived at his apartment door, the smell of weed and whiskey could be smelt from a mile away. A song; Heatwave playing on a record player softly heard through he door