Fancy A Quickie?

Paris

It all started when I lost my job.

I said a few things to customers who then complained and management were being such bores about the whole thing.

Anyway, at the same time my grandad died and left money to me and my brother and of course, twenty thousands pounds to a twenty year old is the epitome of living.

I did a few holidays and whatever but I felt empty. I started drinking for something to do and it propounded the sense of wastefulness.

And then you dropped out of Uni.

You were clever and organised and fun but the sheer struggle of life ruined you. You stopped caring about learning as you realised it was pointless- you and the hundreds of other graduates would not find satisfying work or enlightenment; instead you'd be working in a cafe or a shop because there's no jobs for all the educated.

We were best friends since secondary school and seeing you give up on your joy and passion kind of made me give up hope, too.

So we went to Paris. I paid for it, of course, and the drinking and idleness continued abroad. Yet sitting on that balcony drunk at 10am a month into our new escape felt like heaven. It felt like the life we should have.

I don't care much for going home even though the money will soon run out, yet I can't bring myself to care. I'm on a mission to self-destruct and you are, too, making us the perfect platonic partners.

Hun, if you ruin your life I'm right there beside you, wrecking my own so at least we're in it together. Just promise me you won't sober up first and leave me behind.

Inspired by 'Paris' by The Chainsmokers.