"Three tickets for the ten twenty screening, please."
If only Vivian had felt some sting of doubt as she uttered these words to the admittedly dorky-looking employee, slouching lethargically behind the counter that Friday night.
"Front, middle, back...?" a monotone voice erupted from his sagging lips.
"Back - take us up the backside, chap!" Rafael exclaimed, his typically dirt-ridden words and signature smirk still unable to bear any impact on the pimple-patterned man. His remark received no reception other than a jab in the arm from Vivian.
"Middle, please," Vivian modestly corrected her best friend's boyfriend with slight embarrassment. Large, fleshy fingers punctured a couple of keyboard buttons.
"Eight pounds each," he drooled, unknowingly prompting for Rafael to jerk his body forward in protest, his angular face jutting into the booth invasively.
"Eight quid?! What a swizz..." Rafael paused as he swiftly adopted the employee's name from his badge, "Nathaniel, c'mon do this for me! Do this for my ladies here!" After an intense staring contest between the two, Vivian let out a sigh, withdrew three notes, pressing them onto the desk, grabbing the tickets, and hastily pulling an amused Rafael away and in the direction of the screens. "Keep the change!" she screeched over the top of Rafael's uncontrollable fit of sniggering.
"Jesus, what is your problem?" Vivian confronted the idiot Anna had lost her virginity to, "That guy was just tryna do his job."
"I've got no issues, his face clearly did," Rafael chuckled, "But anyway, thanks for killing that banter."
Deep down, both Vivian and Rafael knew they were almost polar opposite. At most, they could produce small talk or desperately stitch together some loose similarities in their lives, but all for the sake of Anna's happiness. Vivian didn't want to lose Anna. Rafael didn't want to lose Anna. If they were both intent on keeping her, the pair had to somehow submit to awkward conversations and uncomfortable meet-ups with one another: the cinema visit that Friday night being one of them. Another third-wheeling situation, Vivian thought to herself, as she paced down the walkway with Anna's supposed "love of her life" at her side.
"Where's my girl at?" Rafael huffed impatiently, shoving his hands into his red flannel pockets. It was lines like this that made Vivian realise Anna's boyfriend wasn't the most articulate, or respectful for that matter.
"She's in the loo, she said we should choose the snacks," she explained, half-laughing at his scruffy state. The unstable duo approached the Pick n' Mix, in the corner of the lifeless scope. There was nothing but a couple of screens, some machines storing food and drink, and some snacks arranged at the side, in site. After a minute of painfully silent browsing, Vivian broke, "Actually, I might just check on her. One minute."
The toilets reeked of piss and cheap perfume. There were only two or three cubicles, one of which Vivian registered was engaged. "Anna?" she said quietly against the door of Anna's cubicle. There wasn't a response. Or at least it couldn't be heard over a gentle hum of electrical heating. Vivian repeated herself, but still, nothing. A wave of worry passed her... Yet she was certain Anna would be somewhere near. Vivian preoccupied herself for a couple of minutes, as she addressed her mildly distressed, dark brown hair in the mirror. She'd thrown on a black jumper and jeans that evening, and applied a deep red lip, which contrasted to her pale complexion. Under the hypnotising hiss of the heating, she adjusted her lipstick, only to hear some shuffling from behind her. She slowly turned her back to the mirror, and poked her head to the crack at the bottom of the cubicle door. A pair of mucky Converse. Suddenly, a thump.
