How to Unkill Yourself [ruby da cherry]

There's No Motivation, So Hold Me Up

     It's been a few days since I've seen Ruby. We texted a few times, but I knew he was busy with whatever he was working on. At the moment, I was sitting on the couch using Eric's computer to try and find a job. The only thing I could really do was bartend, waitress, or maybe retail. All I know is that I didn't wanna just live and take up space at Eric's place without doing something with myself. And maybe if I made enough money I'd be able to help out with rent.

     After finding close to nothing online, the door opened and Eric walked in. "Guess what bitch," he said, not even waiting for me to say hi or anything.

     "What?" I responded.

     Eric put down his bag and dramatically threw the keys onto the table before shouting, "I just got you a job! You can thank me any way you want."

     "What the hell? How'd you do that?" I asked. He knew I was looking for a job, but I hadn't expected him to go and get one for me. Hell, I didn't have a clue how he would even be able to.

     "You know how I'm working on an EP right now?"

     "Yeah,"

     "Well, I asked my manager if I could bring in a really good designer who'd be able to take care of the cover art and maybe some merch. The answer was yes, so you'll be my new designer for this project,"

     "Are you serious?" I asked, really excited and a bit nervous. What if what I came up with wasn't good enough?

     Eric nodded. "Fuck yeah, I'm serious. You'll get paid this time and everything."

     I laughed, he always mentioned the ideas he "stole" from me, and it was funny to see how he still felt guilty; even after I told him I didn't care. I pretty much gave him the designs anyway. "Thank you so much, Eric. Really," I put his computer down and sprinted over to him. I stood on my tiptoes and hugged him, feeling like a little girl who's father just bought her a pony. Or whatever girls care about.

     "Of course. And besides, you're really good at what you do. Even the shit you gave up, you're good at," I let go of him.

     "Gave up?" I asked.

     "Did you see my note in your little book?"

     I had to think about what he meant for a second. And then I remembered; he read my poetry book. "Right, yeah, I saw it. I didn't wanna bring it up though. I don't really like thinking about that shit."

     Eric gave me a confused look. "Did something happen? I thought you jus' gave up writing them,"

     I shook my head. "Nah, my dickwad ex made me stop. Told me I'd never amount to anything, never get anywhere, you know the drill. He always said shit like that to me,"

     "Damn," Eric started. He looked at me like I was one of those animals in the ASPCA commercials. I hated that. "I knew he did shit like that, but I didn't expect him to discourage you from trying new shit. Fuckin' asshole."

     I shrugged, not really caring anymore. Talking about it really helped me feel better about the situation. "Yeah, he was a jerkoff. Ugly, too,"

     Eric laughed, saying, "He needs to fuckin' cut his hair and take those stupidass braces off, too."

     "You realize you both have the same length hair, right?"

     "Shush, we're making fun of him right now,"

     "Okay," I said, walking back over to the couch.

     "Remind me to send you the demos for the EP," Eric said. I nodded and logged out of his laptop.

     "Here, I don't need to use this anymore," I said, handing Eric the computer. He took it and walked down the hallway, disappearing into his room.