HARD TIMES ━ lip gallagher²

02 | shim

☆

"GIVE ME A BEER," Amara demanded, sliding onto the barstool at the Alibi, and slapping a couple of bucks down onto the counter. Kevin raised a brow but did so, and filled the glass up before giving it to her.

"That kinda day, huh?"

"My boss," she explained after downing the beer. Kevin looked mildly impressed. "Frank, such an asshole. Guess it's the name."

Kevin cocked his head. "What'd he do? Do I need to go kick some ass?"

"Fucking mansplains everything to me, as if I'm not capable enough to figure it out on my own if I even don't know the facts already. Said that he'd been working there for sixteen years as if it was a bragging right—he's literally on the bottom of the totem pole, but yeah he's acting like working at that dump for so long is a good thing."

"I thought you liked it there."

"I do," she shrugged. "But it's a shithole. It's ran by old men who are still stuck in the 70's. I mean, you should've heard the shit he called my co-worker Collie today. He's disgusting."

Kevin replaced her empty cup with more alcohol. "Remember what Fiona did? How she turned Patsy's completely around? I think you could do the same."

Amara scoffed. "Calling me Fiona is a big compliment, but my boss isn't going to be exposed for being a heroin addict and skip town to leave the responsibility to fall on me. It won't happen."

"Fi thought the same."

"Fi wasn't planning on running the place," Amara shook her head. "I don't even think I could do it. I mean, fuck, I would love to give that sexist asshole a kick in the balls and fire him, but it'll never happen."

"Prove it to them," Kevin shrugged. "You know you're good. You've been good since you were little. Writing V and I those stories when you were, like, five, even then we were blown away. Prove to them that you're good. And let them know that you know you are. Feel me?"

Amara was about to reply, but Frank's booming voice stopped her, and she turned her head to see him hanging up a poster. "Let me ask you this fine gentlemen, which of these congressional candidates look like you?"

"That's a gay Latino man and a semi-hot black woman, Frank," Tommy retorted.

"Exactly," Frank nodded. "American men used to control everything. Look at a history book. We used to be the leading men."

"Yeah, that's why everything is shit." Amara muttered, sipping her beer.

"Now, we're marginalized," Frank went on. "I attended a congressional debate this afternoon, and you know what I experienced? Reverse racism."

Anger pooled in her stomach. "That doesn't exist you ignorant fuck," she called out. Heads turned her way, but she was only looking at Frank.

The Gallagher man did falter for a moment, before pointing to the posters. "It's all diverse gays and vaginas now. The tide is changing. And it's changing too damn fast, am I right?"

"I can't deal with this," Amara stood and slapped a ten onto the counter. "Thanks for the beer Kev." And she walked out of the bar.

☆

"I hate your father," Amara stated, flopping onto the bed next to Lip, who was reading something on his phone. "Would you care if I took a machete to his neck?"

"Be my guest," he sat up. "What'd he do?"

She sighed and pulled the blanket above her legs. "Same old shit. Still annoyed though. Did you find Xan?"