stripper killer [matty healy]

four - pessimistic

pessimistic: (adjective) tending to see the worst aspect of things or believe that the worst will happen.

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a bright light shining through my eyelids caused me to mentally scold myself for once again, being too lazy to shut my curtains last night - then for ever thinking it was a good idea to have my bed near the window. i lazily throw one arm over my eyes while the other blindly searches the bedside cabinet for my phone.

the sound of something hitting the floor causes mild panic to flood through me, quickly replaced with relief as i lean over the bed to retrieve my - luckily, unbroken phone. it's 11:53?! jesus, my body must've been more tired then it had felt. as usual, i had no texts to reply to, so instead proceed to my check my voicemails, an unfamiliar number catching my attention.

"hello there, mrs blade. this is ann wretcham speaking, mr caldwell's assistant. i'm just ringing to let you know that unfortunately he will have to cancel his reservations for dinner tonight as his wife has fallen unexpectedly ill. either him or myself will be in touch soon to re-arrange. thank you."

i click off the voicemail, unsure how to feel. steve caldwell was one of my clients, and by clients i meant i fucked him for money. although i was glad that i no longer had plans with him today, i could feel the worry creeping up on me. part of me was actually depending on him. despite the fact he had a wife and three daughters and it should feel totally wrong - he was one of my preferred clients. he wasn't exactly ugly and he payed big money. plus, he didn't have any creepy fetishes, which was always a plus.

i decided to be pleased over my now - free saturday as i roll over in bed. attempting to go back to sleep, completely ignoring the fact it was now afternoon. if i fell asleep i wouldn't be able to dwell on the money related stress that was building up due to the cancelation. but, no matter how much i toss and turn, i fail - i'm awake.

admitting defeat, i drag myself from my the bed and pad to the kitchen, dialling my best friends number on the way. it doesn't even ring twice before the other end picks up.

oh finally, she calls. i was beginning to think you had fallen off the face of the earth!!"

"niall.." i groan, clicking the phone onto speaker mode while i make myself a coffee. "stop being so dramatic!"

"i'm serious! it's been like a whole day and you haven't texted." his voice cracking as he tries to act serious.

i roll my eyes and change the subject. "what are you doing?"

"right now? nothing. are you busy?"

no i'm jus-"

"great!" he cuts me off. "meet me at kiki's in thirty, bye!"

"niall, wait!" i call - but it's too late, the line has gone dead.

i take a sip of my coffee, a smile creeping up on my face behind the cup. niall was my best friend. we met at college after he transferred over from ireland. i was in complete awe with him because i'd always been keen to visit the country - so we immediately clicked and have been best friends since. i love him like he's my brother, despite how annoying he can be times. now being one of them.

i quickly finish my brew and head for a shower, deciding to skip breakfast - i knew niall would insist on getting food while we were out. it was inevitable.

by the time i've dried my hair, threw it into a sloppy bun, got dressed and applied minimal make-up, i'm already 10 minutes late. grabbing my bag, i head for the elevator. a grimace washing over my face as i cringe, replaying last nights happenings in my head. my foot began tapping against the floor as i grew impatient. what is taking it so long? hang on, what if someone is boarding it above?