The Saint Jones [Completed]

chapter 74: A Warrior

Today, we're one day away from the docking of The Saint Jones in Brazil, and today I'm in the kitchen, not working, oh no, I'm boycotting, but I just wanted to see what the others were doing during my absence, the chief in me needed to see.

So far I've seen good and ongoing work, everybody are doing their respective things and seeing such thing is reassuring. I may hate the owner and the administrators of this cruise but, my heart is with the workers I've been working with for years, they are my little family after all, they just aren't aware of that, yet.

I was about to walk out of the kitchen when I see someone in the back room, where all the foods are stocked in. I take a step back and stare at her back, a little smile forms on my lips. It's been a while since I last saw her, and how ridiculous this sounds right now, I mean, we are on the same damn cruise, however, since our last meeting, I don't think I've had a proper conversation with her.

My hand moves before I can even proceed it and I knock on the almost closed door. She turns around quicky from what she was doing, in a rush.

"Hey, I thought you threw yourself in the ocean," she mocks and laughs. I look at her and give her a small smile, then I detect the bottle in her hand.

"Bacardi, are you serious? I can report you right now, you're aware of that, right?" I say as I look at the half full bottle of alcohol.

She laughs a little and looks away, then she closes the bottle and places it in the corner, between the shelf where it was supposed to be and the wall. She looks exhausted and lifeless, her hair is a mess and her under eyes are claiming for urgent sleep.

"Morgan, drowning yourself in alcohol isn't the best decision."

She chuckles and wraps her arms around her chest, "what's the best decision then? Crying? Sleeping? Fighting? Besides, this bottle is expired," she points out towards the bottle which is sitting on the floor.

I sigh deeply and shove my hands in my pocket. I know this bottle isn't expired, not yet anyway, the Saint Jones never keep expired goods. But what I know even more is the fact that alcohol is no good, what will it change in the end? Except of getting addicted and sick from it, nothing will change. 

"You know Sether, not everyone has your life, you're privileged here, and you're aware of it. I'm not privileged, I never have been," she says painfully.

Privilege? I've never considered myself a privileged person, not in my life, personal or even professional.

"This has nothing to do with me, I'm talking about you, I'm not the one who's draining my future in the toilet, Morgan. This will lead you to nothing, nothing good."

She sighs and looks away, bitting her full lip.

"Anyway, I'll stop soon, I'm tired of all of these things," she say, looking away from me.

I really hope from the bottom of my heart that she'll do it because I really hold her in my heart, she's family and I don't want to see someone like her waste her life for no reasons. She's young, beautiful, energetic, talented, better used them all as a weapon to create her own life and experiences.

"Good," I tell her. She smiles at me, looking extremely tired.

"How is Justin doing?"

"W-what?" She staggers, eyes growing wide.

"How is Justin doing?" I say again, looking at her with a playful smile. Her face is everything, a mixture of shock and pure disbelief.

"H-how am I supposed to know, he's your best friend, not mine," she defends herself pretty well, she knows how to be convincing.