Paris, and Other European Destinations (JJ x Rafe x Reader) OBX

New House, New Job

It was just your luck: getting placed under the same mechanic as JJ fuckin Maybank. God, how was this even happening? You were good. You worked hard all year despite the persistent displeasure of being in his class; bringing you to your wits end day after day. He had been insufferable! And just when you thought you could get away?

"I'll just find a different person to apprentice under," you decide, thinking out loud as your cousin, and only friend, listens to you rant.

"C'mon, he can't be all that bad."

You turn towards Jamie, rolling your eyes with an exasperated sigh; "you're right. He's just loud, and obnoxious, and has, quite possibly, one of THE most irritating personalities on planet earth."

"Give him a chance, kiddo."

You slump into the leather couch—the only piece of furniture Jamie's living room seems to have. "Ugh, I hate my life," you exclaim, stressing each syllable as if you were singing a song. "Why can't I be a kook with a trust fund?"

"Where's the thrill in that?"

"Oh shut up, Jamie." You hear him chuckling to himself as you turn to stare off into space, too wound up to feel anything but jealousy towards those who live on figure eight. "I have spent my life living in that shitty apartment, Jamie, with no money to fucking spare. We live next to the damn ocean and yet I haven't had time to go anywhere near it in almost a month. I've worked two jobs while completing this stupid college course, because the only thing I'm good at doing is fixing things and there's no chance in hell I'd pay—or even be able to pay—for something like a business degree."

"Well, I've heard the market's shit right now. Maybe you can break your lease and find a different place to live," Jamie suggests. You know Jamie has absolutely no idea about the housing market, nor did he believe you could actually afford anything else. But that was the only way he knew how to comfort you. "Hey," Jamie says, reaching out to pat your shoulder. "You're an apprentice now, which means you're close to getting an actual job. That's still a step forward—remember it."

"You're right," you sigh, your anger melting away as you turn to look at him. "I was just so relieved to have gotten through this course and then this whole thing with Maybank just felt like a kick to the stomach. It's just hard; feeling as though every good moment is inevitably dulled by something."

"Yea well, think of it as building character." You shove Jamie as hard as you can, which of course causes him to pull just as hard at your hair.

"Fuck," you yelp, shimmying away from him—getting ready to defend yourself. "You bitch."

"Oh come on, kiddo," Jamie chuckles, throwing his hands up in defence. "Let's just order-in to celebrate. I'll pay."

You let yourself grin then as he shows his wallet to prove he'll stay true to his word, and that feeling that had you on the verge of frustrated tears moments ago dulls to something much more manageable. "You had me at 'you paying,'" you sigh happily, leaning back into the sofa and let yourself relax. The bad were only moments after all, however all consuming they were; the type of moments that had you wishing you could just curl up into a ball and let your life spiral out of control. Moments that made you wonder why you even try at all when everything you do only introduces more you have to worry about. It was hard, especially now after loosing your dad. You weren't ready to be exposed to such a cruel world, to pay rent, to feel real resentment for those who just get to continue living their lives; as if they somehow owed it to you to feel that same struggle.

You fought every day to keep these types of things from controlling you; from leading you to become some bum on the side of the road.

Jamie was always better at it then you were, though he did have a good five years on you to practice. You had grown up with him; he was who would babysit you when you were younger, he had taught you how to drive. Now that you were 21, he still called you kiddo—though you had secretly grown fond of the name. He worked as a manager at the local bar, and his apartment had a gym inside of it, which he let you use when you wanted. As one one of the only girls in your program you found yourself at a bit of a physical disadvantage when it came to manual labour, but you refused to be that person who has to ask for help.