𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝟏𝟎𝟏 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐗𝐗𝐈𝐈𝐈

• 23 •

I got the job. It was easy. The old couple who own the homey little establishment were some of the nicest people I had ever talked to, but that's no surprise. They fit the role: gummy smiles, old eyes, warm voices, and greying faces. They love plants, go on walks, and are the type to randomly cut fruits to bring to their grandchildren in the daytime. We agreed that I'll start the next day, seen as Halloween is approaching and the cafe needs more hands for the holiday specials. Aside from me is a young woman named Phoebe who I had seen times before whenever I stayed as a customer.

There was no need to celebrate the little feat. The small job is just another responsibility on my back, but thankfully one that I can profit from. I guess that if a job doesn't have my heart, that's all I see it as: a responsibility—set of tiresome hours that I'll have to endure to put food into my stomach. I looked at the bright side. This type of job is very temporary. I have time to focus on my writing, and that's where my heart's truly at—writing. It's my stub to a better life, whenever the hell it's claimable.

I brought a nugget into my mouth. Everyone knows that eating fast food daily is bad for you, but it's not like I can cook. Cooking is one of the things that I never learned nor did I gain the will to learn. I can cook bacon, waffles, four types of eggs, fried chicken, and buttered fish. That's all. At attempt at anything beyond those will have our building burning to the ground. I don't think my neighbors would appreciate that.

If Ralph didn't suggest canceling my impromptu meeting with Adil, I wouldn't be alone right now. After Keenan left, I phoned my best friend as I waited in the coffee shop for Mrs. Burke. I had to get it off my chest. I had to tell someone. I couldn't talk to an employer with Keenan running around my head throwing glitters and singing fucking nursery rhymes. That man, that goddamn man, he does things to me without intending to. I'm pathetic around him, and I can take that sign in a good way or a bad way. I have yet to decide.

Ralph was on break so it was the perfect time to call. The story left my lips as soon as the man answered,. After three minutes of me blabbering and throwing the name Keenan with the word 'shit' in the same sentences, Ralph's first line to his response was 'Dude... Cancel with Adil,' to which I replied 'Why are you suddenly against Adil?'

My friend was filling the void in his throat, that I could tell by the paper packaging I heard crumpling along with the faint sound of chewing. He spoke, "I'm not. If their situations were turned, then I'd tell you to cancel with Keenan," a swallow, a burp, and a sip, "Gia, I always look at the moment at hand. I just feel like you don't need to see him right now just because he wants to see you."

I texted Adil after that. I think that guilt would have made me back out if I had given myself time to think. Here I am two hours later: eating cheap nuggets from a small bucket, ass on the beanbag in my balcony as I scroll through the chapter I am currently working on after inspiration struck me out of nowhere.

My loneliness did not last long. Four barbecue-dipped nuggets later, I found myself answering the door to a Janella in denim jeans and a white tank top. How can one look so amazing in simple jeans and a tank top? Sis has gotten the hang of it. I let Jan in, the usual smile on her face.

We settled on my couch. Janella looked calm and put together, as if she didn't just break up with a guy earlier today. She spoke, "Just here to tell you that I broke it off with him, and I'm surprisingly better than I expected," and it showed.

I did not hide my relief. Above all, I'm truly glad that Janella's feelings are more on the green side than red, "Well, that sounds great. I love how you're handling things, Jan," I shifted in my seat, the small size of my apartment randomly becoming a bother, "And yeah, he already told me. He dropped by."