3 am; joji miller

2.2

     My shift was about over at my new job. I pushed a piece of hair out of my face. I hadn't really done any cooking today, only learning and training. Zayn was very patient and actually a lot of fun to work with. I needed that, after the fight that I had with George.
  
     "So, your first day done. How ya feel?" Zayn asked, as we headed back to the break room to grab our things. He offered to walk me home, which I politely declined. But, he insisted, so I gave in.
  
     I had been given a uniform, so I grabbed my regular clothes and hung them over my arm to carry out. I still hadn't realized that I had left my phone at the hotel.
  
     We walked out the back door, and as soon as the door closed, Zayn pulled out a pack of cigarettes. "You smoke?" He asked, offering me one.
  
     I took it, thankfully. "Yeah, I could use one," I said, putting it between my lips. Zayn reaches over and lit it for me, then continued to light his own. We both inhaled deeply, then exhaled, letting out the deadly poison into the air.
  
     "You need it?" Zayn asked as we began walking in the direction of the hotel.
  
     I took the cigarette between my fingers, chuckling slightly. "Eh, yeah. This morning was a little rough," I said.
  
     "Anything you wanna talk about? I mean, I gotta get to know my new co worker."
  
     "Well, me and my..." I paused for a second. I didn't really know what to call him. "My friend and I got into a fight this morning. It ended with me storming out of our room."
  
     "Our room? Sorry I'm asking so many questions. You're just a little confusing."
  
     "Yeah, a little bit. We came here to, get away, you could say. We just need a little extra money right now. He's working on finding a job too. But, we got in a fight this morning and I'm kind of nervous to see him again."
  
     "He didn't...hurt you or anything, did he?"
   
      "No no no, he'd never. There's no way he'd ever hit any girl. He's too much of a sweetheart. No, it was more of an emotional, mental kind of fight."
  
     "Well, if you need a place to stay tonight, just call me. I'm always available."
  
     "Actually, while we're on that subject, let me get your number," I said. I reached for my phone. But it wasn't there.
  
      It was as if I was having flashbacks. It automatically appeared in my brain. My phone, sitting on the side table. We walked up to the front of my hotel.
  
     "Whoops, I left it in my room. I can just get it tomorrow," I said. I played it cool, but on the inside I was freaking out. George could see the messages. Or Scar could text me.
  
     "You sure? What if you need me tonight?" He asked, seeming genuinely concerned.
  
     "I won't, I'm sure that I can work things out with George," I said, giving a reassuring smile. He nodded, taking his hands out of pockets.
  
     "Okay, I'll see you tomorrow. Let me know how things go," he said, beginning to walk off.
  
     "I will, see you later," I said, waving, him waving back. I watched as he rounded the corner, and as soon as he did I bursted through the front door, to the steps, once again ignoring the elevator. Too slow.
  
     I sprinted up the stairs, finally reaching the correct level. I pulled out my key and pushed the door open. "George!" I called as I ran into the room. But it was empty.
  
     Instead of finding George, I found a note on our bed. It was obviously quickly scribbled down. I picked it up and looked at it.
  
      Meet me on the roof when you get home. George
  
     I looked to my bedside table, and my phone was gone.
  
     Shit.
  
-
  
     The wind was picking up as I pushed open the door at the top of the stairs. I walked out onto the roof, crossing my arms over my chest.
  
     "George!" I called out, over the noise of the wind.
  
     "Why?" I heard him say. I turned around and saw him on the opposite of the roof, looking over at the city. I walked up to him, but stopped a few feet away from him. He turned around to face me, clearly upset and angry.
  
     "George, I..." I began, but he cut me off.
  
     "Don't give me any shit excuses. Rose, have you been working with Scar? Were you gonna turn me in to them? Do you know what'd they do to me?! Do you know what'd they'd do to you?! They would kill you after you turned me in. They would make me watch them kill you, then they'd torture me, and eventually kill me. What the hell were you thinking?!" He yelled. I didn't blame him for yelling. I huddled back, looking down at my feet.
  
     "Rose!"
  
     "It's not like I wanted too!" I finally yelled back.
  
     "Then why do it?!"
  
     "Because George! They were going to kill my dad if I didn't get you back to the U.S.  They were going to kill him if I didn't get you back to that fucking airport! And I didn't know what to do because I can't...I can't make a decision like that!" I said. The tears began streaming down my face.
  
     "Why didn't you tell me!?"
  
     "Because! Scar was always listening. And if I did they'd kill my dad!"
   
     "Rose, you could've told me. I would've done it. I could've handled it."
  
     "No, George! You wouldn't be able too! You think you can but you can't!"
   
     "But you're choosing me over your father! How could you do that?! You hardly know me!"
   
     "I'm not choosing you over him. I was hoping I could figure it out!"
  
     "Rose, come on. We're leaving tomorrow morning. I can't let your dad die because of me!" He came towards me, grabbing my wrist to take me back inside. I jerked away.
  
     "No George! I can't let you do that!" I yelled.
  
     "Why?!" He yelled back.
  
     "Because! I...I..."
  
     "You what?!"
   
     "Because, George! I love you!"