Real Life Sucks.

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Geoff stormed past the lamp posts covered in green tinsel. The chilly air felt like hundreds of tiny needles hitting his face. The ground was sprinkled with snow, making it hard for his shoes to grip the sidewalk. Children in winter hats passed by with their parents, probably doing some last-minute Holiday shopping. Geoff had done his shopping at the beginning of December, but now he didn't even want to celebrate Christmas.

He turned a corner and opened the door to a building labeled Lucky Tats. "We're closing in five minutes," the man at the front desk muttered while flipping through a body art sketchbook.

"Is Duncan working today?" Geoff asked.

The man sighed, closing the book. "Sir, I told you we close in five—"

Geoff felt an arm envelop his shoulder. "David, 'ts ok," a deep voice cut him off. "I was running behind on my closing work anyway."

David shook his head. "Duncan, this is the third time this week. I hope the boss doesn't find out about you slacking." He stood up and grabbed his olive-colored jacket. "By the way, we're switching shifts tomorrow. You're working 'til 4:00."

Duncan scoffed. "Dude, stop messing with me."

"I'm not. I have to take my daughter to her dentist appointment in the afternoon." David opened the door halfway, letting the cold air rush in. Oh, and make sure you turn off the bathroom lights this time." He shut the door and headed to his car.

Duncan rolled his eyes. "I never get to pick my damn schedule because I'm the youngest here. So much for sleeping in tomorrow."

"Aw, dude, that sucks," Geoff spat sarcastically. "I wish I had that problem."

Duncan raised his unibrow. "What's up with you?"

"Can we talk in your office?"

"Sure, but don't call it an office," Duncan grimaced. "That makes me feel like my job is boring." He led Geoff to the room around a corner. The door had a giant skull plastered in the middle, and the windows showcased tiny guitar and rock n roll stickers. "I haven't seen you in ages, man," Duncan began. "It's been months." He opened his mini refrigerator and grabbed a coke. "Want one?" He offered.

"No thanks," Geoff murmured, hanging his head.

Duncan popped open his can and sat on the windowsill after he pushed the tiny bobblehead displays out of the way. "What's going on? Tell me everything."

Geoff plopped down on Duncan's black client chair. "I don't know where to start. Should I start seven years ago?"

"You remember that far back?"

"Duncan, come on, man. I'm serious. Think about how old we were."

"Pfft. Sixteen? Yeah, so what?" Duncan said. "We've all done stupid shit back then. Are you coming here to confess something? Don't get me wrong; I'm the best guy to confess to because I'm not a snitch—"

"Bridgette and I broke up," Geoff blurted out.

The room went silent. Duncan's jaw dropped slightly. "Are you joking?"

"No, I'm not," Geoff groaned. "We broke up for good. It's been over a week, and I'm ready to move on. I have to keep going. Even if I wasted seven years of my life—" his sobs interrupted him.

Duncan got off the windowsill. He patted Geoff on the back. "What happened? What did she do?"

Geoff rested his chin in his hands. "She likes this other guy. His name is Liam," he scrunched up his face. "He loves to surf just like her. Apparently, they met a few months ago in July, but she didn't tell me until a couple of weeks ago."

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