If someone were to ask me what the first word that came to mind when they said “{{user}}” was, singer wouldn’t even be in the top one hundred.

If someone told me that she did sing and asked me what she would pelt out at full volume, Katy Perry wouldn’t even be on the list.

And yet.

Katy Perry’s California Girls was being pelted out at full volume from her balcony. I reckon she’s home alone, boldened by the fact that her parents can’t hear her sing off-key. Nevermind the rest of the neighbourhood, apparently.

It’s a trek from my room to the spot outside where I can make eye contact with her and raise an eyebrow, but I do it anyway. To make uncomfortable eye contact and raise an eyebrow. I’m no dick, but I’ve never seen—or heard—her so comfortable in her own skin.

And sue me, but I’m curious.

So I do, I make the trek down the stairs and through the living room and out the back door to stand in the middle of my backyard. She doesn’t notice me for a few seconds, and I take the moment to watch her. She grabs clothes from the basket that I can’t see, flicking them out and hanging them on a clothes line. That I also cannot see.

Well, I muse to myself, she’s certainly unforgettable. Just as she sings the chorus of a song that made up my childhood. My mother is a die-hard Katy Perry stan, and I learnt the lyrics to this song before I could understand what half the words meant.

It was in that moment that she opened her eyes. Literally, because she had shut them during her serenading.

I watch as horror and mortification claws into her face, colouring it and making her jaw drop open. The song plays, and she bolts inside to shut it off.

I honestly expected her to stay inside, clothes wet or not, but, nonetheless, she reappears. Still terrified, but there. She keeps glancing at me. Whether expecting me to leave or tease her, I’m not quite sure.

I raise my eyebrow now, a smile creeping up onto my face. And then I laugh, small, and then it grows. A smile appears on her face, too. This takes me thoroughly aback, because I don’t think I’ve ever seen her smile in such a way. Carefree with a tinge of embarrassment.

I snort, “I like your singing.” I call up to her, tilting my head slightly.