Chapter Five

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"I think you are wrong to want a heart. It makes most people unhappy. If you only knew it, you are in luck not to have a heart." - L. Frank Baum, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz.


     "There's the slut!" Axl said, as Nick walked in the office the next day.

     Nick looked confused for a moment, then glanced over his shoulder to see if Axl had been talking to someone else.

     "Axl, can you NOT use stupid slurs like that?" Ruby sighed.

     He ignored her.  "How many women was it last night?  Ten?" Axl punched Nick in the shoulder, as a sign of disgusting male camaraderie.

     Nick smirked and rubbed his shoulder where Axl had hit him, "Ten is a bit of an exaggeration."

     "Well, they do say the best way to get over someone is to get under . . . "

     "Please don't finish that sentence!" Ruby cut Axl off, holding her hand up to silence him.  She closed her eyes, as if that would rid her the image of Nick being under anyone.

     "You're late," Richard said, ignoring the comments about Nick's previous night's sexual exploits.

     "So?  I'm here now, aren't I?" Nick said, yawning.

     Richard's eyes flashed with anger, and he opened his mouth to speak.  I thought for sure he was about to tell Nick to get the fuck out of his sight.

     "Where do you want us today?" Brandon asked Richard, perhaps hoping to diffuse the situation.

     "Same as yesterday," Richard replied, looking pointedly at Nick.

     Nick and I glared at each other.  We were both clearly irritated by this news

     "Seriously?" he spoke up.

     "Does it look like I'm joking?" Richard said as if daring Nick to challenge him.

     Nick didn't respond, except to shake his head and run his fingers through his hair irritably.  We all disbursed to our designated stations for the day. 

     As Nick and I made our way to our shared desk, he was muttering to himself. "I can't believe I have to deal with this stupid bullshit again."

     "I can hear you, you know," I said, slipping my coat off, and hanging it on the back of my chair.

     "Then stop eavesdropping," he replied, without missing a beat.

     "Can you just keep your jerkiness to a minimum today?  I'm tired from all the drinking last night," I said, rubbing my eyes.

     "Amateur," he said.

     "If you mean I'm not used to going out, getting trashed, and having sex with multiple strangers every night, then yes.  I must be an amateur."

     He came to stand close to me, his face inches from my own.  I tried to take a step back, but he just moved closer.  I noticed he looked a bit more disheveled than he had the day before.  There were bags under his red, bloodshot eyes.  Once again, it looked like he had just thrown on some random wrinkled clothes before he had walked out the door that morning.  It seemed that his efforts to move on from his ex were starting to take a toll on him physically.  Despite his ass-hole behavior towards me, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness that almost seemed to radiate from him.

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