Mistakes Made ✅

Chapter 7: Kick and Move

Abeela - srsly u r gonna get fired

Abeela - u better get ur lazy bum here to work!

Errol felt his eyebrows raise as he read that, the corners of his lips quirking into a small smile.

Errol - Miss me?

Her reply came within a few seconds.

Abeela - no, I just dont wanna be doing all the work while u lounge at home

Errol - As a matter of fact Im NOT at home. Havent paid the bills, no electricity. So here I am, at some chick flick coffee shop passin my time with the free internet.

Errol - overall, my life's pretty screwed.

Abeela - u and a lot more out there

Errol - Good to know Im not alone

Abeela - well now u r bout to be alone. the manager's currently glaring at me. kitcxhen dutiesvbye

Releasing a small sigh, Errol placed his phone on top of the table and took a sip of his coffee. He could feel his facial features constrict as the sour tang of the dark liquid bathed his tongue; he was never a huge fan when it came to coffees. But after the talk - the real talk - he had shared with Jordie a few days previously, he deduced he needed a rare substance to boost his system. On any other circumstance, a nearby bar would provide him with some nebulous remedies - supposedly so. He wasn't taking any chances, however. Besides, it was nine in the morning.

Having been about done with the conditions of his apartment, he had simply taken a stroll as early as seven earlier that morning, completely neglecting his shift at the parlour. For reasons even he couldn't seem to justify, albeit already having in mind that he was being rather impetuous on this, Errol didn't find it in him to spare a single consideration that this wasn't going to end well.

Sure, he could simply tick them off his fingers. He had gone from not paying the rent to not turning up for work. Now his rental car was at the verge of completely breaking down - like my life, he thought - thereby casting him into yet another layer of mid-life crisis.

Now he couldn't help but feel as if starting afresh would only fail to proceed, that he would always remain as this amateur, negligent new adult. Who would have thought that running away would be a decent idea into starting a new life, remote from where he grew up? Not that he was any big fan of his old hometown. Even the mere concept of it sent shivers running down his spine, the thought of home uncharacteristically obnoxious. He couldn't feel what everyone meant when they stated that 'home is where the heart is'.

Errol shook himself out of the trance, focusing instead on his sketch pad now. The entire page was still blank, left for the smears of graphite staining the margin. Didn't know you could draw, echoed Jordie's words in his head as he tapped the tip of his pencil on the paper, brooding, searching for a concept. Of course, hardly anyone knew he had a flair for drawing. He had been keeping that part of him all to himself, repressed within his own realm, only seeking for its serenity should he need it.

He doubted it would matter. After all, the artistic side of him just had to be the one that was never touched, never quite tainted with prolonged dilemmas. Like keeping a sacred rite guarded, Errol would prefer not to have anyone sticking their nose in. Even Shandee had never seen him draw.

Jordie has, though, he reminded himself, realising at once that the boy was one of the few people who had managed to notice his aptitude. Sure, Errol could still feel the ire bubbling up at the thought of Jordie, but the vehemence wasn't as intense as it was before. He knew he wasn't being fair for both of them, especially not when their viewpoints kept contradicting with each other, making it all seem impartial. Though, he supposed listening to Jordie was all that he needed.