FSE

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My name is Sean, I'm 22, a fox and single.

Bummer right? It's hard to hide the fact when I'm always seeing happy couples of all shapes and sizes on a daily basis. I'm not upset about being single but, it would be nice to feel loved like the holiday-makers do. Sunny south-east Queensland seemed to be the go-to destination for the surf and sand the minute the mercury got too high and being on the coast meant that furs from all over came to skirt the winter chill in their own country or just soak in the sea-breeze and relaxed atmosphere that the land down-under is famous for. For a small coastal town it can get pretty busy especially at this time of year. The influx of new tourists can sometimes bring new faces and a new light to this otherwise washed-up and sun-bleached place.

"Sorry." I say as I squeeze past yet another set of tourists engaged in mortal combat with each-others faces. They say something but my IPod's too loud to hear anything short of a hurricane. The door to the music shop I work at is wide open just as I left it. It's a slow, lazy Sunday and any would-be thief could do a hell of a lot better than stealing a bunch of battered old guitars or bulk packs of strings and picks.

I take my place behind the counter, drop my bag and barely start daydreaming before foot-pads and absurdly loud shouting startles me back to reality. "What's up man!?" if his voice had force it could've knocked me back through the concrete wall behind me. I looked up from the counter at the half-dressed skunk invading my peace. "What does it look like Seth?" I said in a less than enthusiastic tone, "A whole lot a nothing bro, in fact you look like you were just about to doze off. Good thing I came in here to wake you up before the old man catches you napping again." "You've got me there. So why the hell are you here again? That's twice today you've walked through my doors." I straightened up in my seat. "Strings man, I need another pack for Scotty's fender."

"You guys got a gig tonight?" I replied whilst getting Seth's order. "Nah dude. We're out and broke for another week."

" Sorry to hear that man. That seems to be common for you guys, maybe secretly your manager thinks you guys suck."

"Fuck you man! I know you're taking the piss outta me but you don't have to jinx it." Seth responded with a half-hearted chuckle. "I'm sorry dude. How can I make it up to you?"

Seth thumbed through his change to pay for the strings. "Tonight, my place, barbecue."

"Sounds good." I said as I took the handful of dollar coins. "You buy the beers." Seth said with a grin. "Fine, you can't drink many of them before you're slurring every word and stumbling."

"Again, fuck you."

" You wish man." I added before he walked out the door.

I saw just a glimpse of him giving me the finger as he rounded the corner. Seth was cool but a real definition of 'the starving artist' type, he tried though and out of his entire band he was the only decent guitarist and that's saying a lot. Nails on a chalkboard would be soothing in comparison to these guys, Seth's blend of melodic licks and fast, aggressive punk riffs was all that kept them afloat, the crowd loved him but their gigs had gotten less and less frequent and now Seth looked like he hadn't eaten a decent meal in days. I hoped for more than stale bread and canned food at tonight's barbecue.

My day had been brightened a little after talking to Seth and I figured I'd close up shop early and go to the beach to waste away the afternoon in the sunlight. I had been on my shift since 9 and it was drifting around 3 in the afternoon. I was certain my boss wouldn't mind if I left, Seth had been my only customer today so It wasn't like there was a mad rush.

I grabbed my bag and left through the back door locking it behind me. I put my bag on the passenger seat of my pick-up and drove up to one of the less populated beaches hoping to revel in the sun, sand and lack of responsibilities.

When I got to the parking lot I looked down the stairs and saw a group of furs playing volleyball. I didn't want to be in the way so I opted to drop the sides on the tray of my truck and bask like a lizard in the afternoon heat. I put my IPod in my ears, rest my head on my bag and started to relax.

Thoughts began to manifest as they always do when I start to unwind. Pipedreams about my future and scenarios and that led to more anxiety concerning the path that laid itself before me. I always thought your twenties was when you settled down with a family or whatever. My parents weren't like that, my dad always said to cruise through life. 'One day you'll be cruising with the only things that really matter in the palm of your hand and everything else will fall into place'. I always wondered if they think about me. I moved out at 18 when they decided on a change of scenery and moved inland to the countryside. I always preferred it here with the few friends I had so naturally I chose to stay. They didn't seem to mind considering my sister chose to avoid the country as well, I guess they thought she'd take care of me should I get into trouble, truthfully though I haven't heard from her or mum and dad in a while. It's for the best I was always independent, I still don't relish in the fact that I'm practically alone here.

I came out of my daze and began paying attention to what was playing in my ears, speaking of which what the hell am I listening to? Why would you add 'heads up!' in the middle of a solo? Then it hit me.

The volleyball I mean. I had long since trailed off and was just starting to get ready to leave before the sharp sting of a Wilson nameplate struck me between the eyes. I heard heavy breathing so I sat up expecting a brick house of a guy to be expecting his ball back or he'll beat me into a red-furred pulp.

You can imagine the shock when my eyes met the emerald greens of a slender and slightly girlish framed racoon half winded from the run and judging from the red spreading across his cheeks, embarrassed.

"Hey are you alright? I'm so, so sorry. I went for the dive and hit it straight backwards. I called out though I'm not surprised you didn't hear me." The racoon said as he tapped his ears mimicking having headphones in. "I.. it..it's okay buddy. I tried out for volleyball in high-school so I'm used to being hit." I stammered out rubbing my forehead. He laughed and a calm demeanor replaced his still flushed cheeks. " I see, so you know how to play? We're short a player if you wanted to join in."

"Yeah.. well sort of, I'm.. I mean I'm not very good and besides it'd be weird playing with someone I don't even know the name of." He recoiled a little at that statement and it barely registered that I may have been slightly forward. "Haha! True. Well let me start. Elliot, at your service." He bowed slightly and offered his hand. "Sean, pleased to meet you Elliot." I took his hand in a light grip that he shook firmly rattling the last of a sleepy Sunday out of me. "So, what do you say? It's the least I can do as an apology."

"Sure! Why the hell not? I was starting to drift off up here anyway."

"Great!" The little raccoon shouted as he grabbed his ball and threw it back to the others. He motioned that I was coming and the other furs started to talk amongst each other, I could only guess what they were saying and judging from the uneasy movements, what they were saying wasn't particularly good. Nevertheless I took my shirt and shoes off leaving them in my car with the other things I didn't wish to have covered in sand and started down the stairs. I didn't care for what the others may have been saying, Elliot was excited and his energy was a little infectious