In Drunken Matrimony ✔️

Two - A Knock Off Banksy

I'm busting out chapters like I'm getting paid for it, so here's a surprise mid-week update.

Oʟɪᴠᴇʀ

"The blonde?" Monty asks, a shit eating grin plaguing his face after I toss aside the phone and empty chocolate wrapper on the sofa with a heavy sigh.

I lift an unamused brow in his direction. "Yes James; the blonde." Following the mobile, I sling myself beside it, rubbing a heavy hand down my face. "I thought the honeymoon phase was meant to come after marriage? She's a ball buster." I decide.

Felix shakes his head, handing me the Advil I asked for along with a bottle of water. "She's not busting your balls dude - she's probably stressed. Which, if I recall, is exactly how you were after your first marriage." He reminisces, shaking his hair free of the water that hangs heavy in his head of blonde curls.

"I'm going to start calling you Ross Geller." Zach comments through a chortle, earning him a pillow to the face.

I opt against validating such with a vocalised response. "What's the big deal?" I ask outwardly to anyone that holds a helpful retort. "I told her we'll get an annulment, but that's not something we can do now. She could've just agreed and let me have my breakfast - I can't plan a breakup on an empty stomach."

Felix, the logical - reasonable - one of the four of us, rolls his eyes at my despondent attitude. "To be as blasé as you; it really must be a gift Ol."

"It has its perks." Sitting myself upright, I swallow down the painkillers and take a few more hearty gulps of water, knowing my body is more dehydrated than the Saharan desert. "Although, I'm clenching at the idea of having to tell my mum and dad. I don't know that I've got any 'get out of jail free' cards left on me."

Zach reaches over, patting me on the shoulder in consolation. "You can crash at mine till you get it figured out." I nod appreciatively, sated simply by the fact that my mates have their lives far better put together than I do.

Zach, with his swanky two bed apartment in the town centre and a secured full time job in a car dealership. I suppose it's easy for him though - he earns a killing on commission, and the married women seem to have a thing for his bright eyes and straight teeth and well groomed complexion. Plus, he looks like Rege-Jean Page built something like The Rock. They all hope he'll give them a test drive for more than just that seven seater Volvo.

Then Felix who practically pisses out fifty pound notes. The kid might as well kindle his fire with bundles of cash because he's sitting on that much of a fortune. I mean, most of it came from his grandads inheritance, and it was apparently insensitive of me to suggest that he slipped him an extra dose of morphine to get an early pay out. Still, the guys got his life all planned out; a new mortgage, a girlfriend who I'm sure I've seen on the cover of a Playboy magazine - though at least he's not pining over my sister anymore, because he always had a soft spot for Charlotte. Come next year too, when he's graduated from Uni and has a medical degree, he'll be living in the laps of luxury.

I'd like to say Monty is more on my page, but I'd be a complete bullshitter if I did. Fair, he's not much right now, but he's already been scouted by a good number of teams and soon, the name James Montgomery will be chanted in a cheesy rendition of some song in football stadiums, because he's got the promise of the next greatest footballer. Right now, he still lives at home, training continuously in academy's and playing for his home team, but he'll be a midfielder for the Euros before long.

I suppose someone has to take one for the team and remain the irresponsible, impulsive, childish one of the group, and I claimed such title. Being twenty one and sofa surfing in Spain, working in pubs and getting the flirty eyes from pretty holiday makers isn't easy, but someone's got to do it. That, however, will now have to be put on the back burner considering I have no money, and a marriage I need to escape from: pronto.