The Grant~An IT Crowd Fanfiction

Standard Break-Ups

Imogene's flight was slightly delayed, so she did not arrive in London until about nine o'clock a.m, and not at her friend Ginger's apartment until around nine thirty. She was rather excited to see Ginger, her friend from college, who had always been so much fun. Imogene needed a bit of fun. Her life had not been going so well lately.

Her last job as a library assistant was quite possibly the most boring thing ever. She'd been hoping, with all the books and everything around, that she would at least be surrounded by things she was interested in, but NO. She was not allowed to read at all during the day, and she could NOT wear her Stranger Things t-shirt to work, or Doctor Who. Not even Lord of the Rings, which was an actual book. And Rey buns were forbidden, too, if it wasn't Star Wars day.

That was the reason she'd quit. Or was fired. One of the two. Mrs. Halloway, her hamburger-shaped and overly strict boss, had told her to remove her three hairbuns at once. Imogene had refused, and therefore quit/was fired. That sounded like a new trend of some sort: quit-firing. A millennial fad for sure.

She reached Ginger's apartment in the and knocked on the door. Shave and a haircut, two bit. The door burst open and Ginger appeared in its frame, her blonde hair all tangled and sticking to her face, and her pink bathrobe covered in splotches of something yellow. This was rather surprising, as she was normally all done-up like a socialite.

"Hi, Ginge..." Imogene said nervously. "What's...going on?"

Ginger squinted her round blue eyes. "What time is it?"

"Uh..." Imogene lifted her wrist to see her watch. "It's about nine thirty-two."

There was a brief pause as Ginger tried to make some sense of where she was and what exactly was going on. "Imogene?"

"My flight was delayed," she said quickly. "I'm sorry I'm late."

"Oh, yeah. That's today, isn't it." Ginger yawned. "Well, uh, I guess you can come in. Make yourself at home."

"Thank you," said Imogene quietly, stepping inside.

The apartment, frankly, was not what she'd expected. Ginger had said that it was a nice place with decent furnishings, and that it was normally very tidy and well-kept. This chaotic mess couldn't be further from the truth.

The furniture looked decent—or, as though it had at one point. The nice white couch in the center of the place, facing the door and the TV, was splattered with stains, red and green and even chartreuse. The coffee table in front of it was covered in papers and empty bowls of what looked like popcorn and Cheetos. The kitchen area to the left was full of dirty dishes and takeout containers, all over the table and countertops, and the garbage was overflowing. There were blankets and pillows scattered throughout the place, as though the entire apartment was a giant bed. The TV was up practically at full volume, blasting a British game show.

"Where will I be sleeping?" Imogene asked.

Ginger frowned. When she said it, it was almost a question. "In the bedroom?"

"Oh," said Imogene nervously. "Wonderful. I like bedrooms."

"Me, too," laughed Ginger. "But they're better when someone else is in them."

Imogene frowned. Ginger must have been in one of her moods. She'd probably just broken up with her boyfriend...

Oh no.

"Hey, um," Imogene asked as nonchalantly as she could. "How is Xavier?"

Her friend flopped down onto the couch. "Xavier?"