29

19 9 0
                                    

The light drizzle hits my coat, dampening my hair and my cheeks as I make my way towards Timed Rhythm, my hands deep in my pockets looking for the keys. As I pull my hood down, I unlock the door with the entrance key before opening the door, the usual chime of the doorbell welcoming me. Dust sticks to my nose the moment I come in, and I sneeze loudly as I close the door behind me, turning on the lights from the control panel.

Bloody fucking dust, why can Jones never be screwed cleaning his damned place up?

Jones hasn't arrived yet, which is mainly due to the fact the store opens in forty minutes. I kick off my wet combat boots, slipping on a pair of sneakers that I always keep in the storage room, just in case, before taking a seat at the desk. My hands are icy cold from the rain as I fumble with the computer system before turning that damned old machine on. Tapping my fingers on the desk in a random pattern, I wait for the monitor to turn on, my teeth chattering from the wetness of my clothes.

Dylan promised me he would talk to Felix today, and I can't help being so damn nervous about it. I hear the door suddenly open, the chime filling in the room as my eyes dart towards the door, meeting Jones' gaze. His frizzy long hair is damp from the drizzle, just like mine, and he sighs before closing the door behind him.

"Some fuckin' weather, eh?"

"Hm, tell me 'bout it. Supposed to be our spring, seems like it's autumn." I say, leaning back on the chair.

"I know. Sucks ass." Jones says, taking off his coat and leaving it perched on its hanger. I laugh at his crude language, shaking my head.

"Why are you here so early?" I ask, finally able to log into the crummy piece of shit that Jones calls a 'computer'.

"Would like to ask you the same thing."

"Hm, you're as cocky as always, Jones."

"What happens when you're forced to leave your bed on a day as ugly as this one." he says, chuckling under his breath. "So, how are things going?" he asks. But I get the feeling he knows something, because I sometimes feel like he pities me by the expression in his eyes. Or maybe he's just depressed, who knows.

"Alright, I guess."

"Don't sound too convinced, Shan."

"Yeah, I know. Just tired of the same routine."

"Aren't we all. How's The Dime?"

"Shit, haven't been in a while."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, fucking Scott was talking bollocks about me to everyone. Nasty cunt."

"Fuck, for real? What'd he say?"

"That I'm a fucking whore and that I'm pregnant." I say, rolling my eyes. Jones snorts before exploding into a contagious fit of laughter.

"You? Pregnant? Fuck's sake!" he squeals, cackling like a hyena next to me. Surprisingly, I laugh with him over Scott's stupidity, although Jones seems to think the first part is true. "We all know you're more careful than that." he adds after he's calmed down from his hysteria.

"I'm done with his bullshit." I say, my laughter dying down. "Thought I could at least be friends with him."

"Shana," Jones says, "Scott Delonge has no friends."

"With a fucking good reason, too." I say, snorting.

"So, where have you been finding your men, then?"

"Not your business." I say with a smirk, making Jones chuckle. It's better to not tell him I've changed- it's not his place to know about my relationship with Dylan. He'd never understand my change, and hell, he might even think it's bullshit. He's one of those people that think it's not possible for others to change, so if I told him, he might even take it as a joke.

detachment ✔Where stories live. Discover now