“You opted to do extra work?”
“Yes.”
“Even though you’ve been working all week?”
“Yes.”
“Even though you’d rather not have Jaffa Cakes ever again if it just meant that you didn’t have to see other people practicing to be Elphaba when yo-”
“Yes! Now can you shut up? I’m trying to write this!” I snapped at Chris as he went on and on about the stupid cleaning job that I had to go to in a few hours’ time.
At the moment, it was five am and both of us were struggling to sleep. Chris wouldn’t tell me why he was having trouble sleeping, but if the dark, bruise like, circles under his eyes were any indication, he hadn’t been sleeping well for a while. As a result, we were once again hanging out in the lounge with Nutella on toast and hot chocolate. This time, however, I’d set an alarm on my phone for seven, when I’d have to start getting ready to be at the theatre by nine.
I wasn’t playing video games with Chris this time around either. Chris was seated in a beanbag in front of his TV as he played through ‘The Simpsons: Hit and Run’ game, which he told me was a classic game which couldn’t be bypassed. He also revealed to me that this was at least the twentieth time that he’d played the game through, and he still adored it. I, on the other hand, was lounging on the sofa with my laptop as I attempted to write my angry, dream dedicated, blog post.
Chris grimaced at me in a melodramatic manner. “There’s no need to be rude, your highness. If you continue like that, then I’ll have to eat all of this toast all by myself.”
“Bread makes you fat,” I smirked to him as I put the last of a slice of toast into my mouth.
Chris actually paused his game to spin round to look at me. “Bread makes you fat?!”
I half-smiled at him before returning to my laptop to write that rant. I knew now that Chris hadn’t actually bought bread for a while because of hearing about how bread makes you fat. He claimed that it wasn’t just the Scott Pilgrim reference that we’d both shared only moments ago, but he still hadn’t bought it for a while. Apparently, it was only when Lucy and I brought some bread home from when we went shopping almost a week ago, that Chris started eating more bread. Chris was almost enlightened when he was rekindled with his love of bread and how you could make sandwiches, toast…and how that was about it. He even commented that if the most exciting thing in his life right now was eating bread again, then he must be a weird ass person. I agreed immediately, but not only for his love of bread.
The breakfast that Chris and I had just had was actually using up the last of the bread. Chris had complained enough about it to make me say that I’d go and buy some more later today. Why, if all he did during the week was play video games in his pyjamas, could he not go shopping himself? It honestly baffled me. But then again, Chris hadn’t ceased to surprise me yet.
*
Friday 12th September 2014
6:03am –at home
‘Follow your dreams.’
‘If you keep trying, your dreams will come true.’
‘Someday, I hope all of your wildest dreams come true.’
For the lucky ones, their dreams become reality. Yay, people accomplish things! Congrats to you! *slow claps* For everyone else, that dream can be crushed within mere seconds when your dreams are ripped away from you when you’re a hair’s breath away from it. And that feeling is the worst bloody thing EVER.
YOU ARE READING
Procrastinators on Stage (Chris Kendall/crabstickz fanfic) *unedited*
Fanfiction(Book 3 of the Procrastinators Series, set in September 2014 -but can be read independently from the series-) "Relationships end. Relationships end in three ways: you split up, one of you dies, or you get married. There's a two out of three chance t...
