Metanoia // George Ezra Fanfic

Expect Better

It was a bad day.

Two of the writers at Alabamafluent decided to come upstairs and yell at me because "I was bothering them too much." It made me furious, and when I was furious, I wanted to cry. I hated that crying was my immediate reaction to being angry. I never felt like I had many big emotions, but when I did have big emotions, they would always spill out of me in the form of very salty tears. 

The worst part is that I was just doing my job.

I'm sorry that you don't like how I edited your piece, Tyler. If you don't like it, then maybe you shouldn't use phrases like "moist ointment" in your writing, Tyler. Any other human being would edit that out, Tyler. Believe me, you are not the normal one in this situation, Tyler. 

Tyler is the worst.

George sidles over to my desk around 3:30, half an hour before our work day is done, with a look of sympathetic concern on his face. He leans over my desk a bit and whispers, "How are you?"

"I'm fine." I lie, choosing not to look at him. I know that my makeup is completely ruined, which sucks, because I actually put on eyeliner today. I left my apartment this morning looking fine as frick and feeling good about myself, and I knew that I did not look fine anymore and I certainly didn't feel good about myself. 

I was in a bad mood, and I didn't want to take it out on George. 

"If it makes you feel any better," George says quietly, "I think Tyler was bang out of line."

"Thanks." I whisper, barely audible. 

"I also think that Tyler fell outta the nasty tree and hit every branch on the way down." George whispers.

I finally turn to look at him, seeing the corners of his mouth twitching up ever so slightly and a smile resting behind his eyes. Feeling a smile creep onto my face, I chuckle a little, "Where on earth did you hear that?"

George grins, still whispering, "I live in Alabama now, Everly. Picking up on some of these southern phrases is quite easy."

"What will your English friends say if you move back one day and say something like that?"

"They'll probably make fun of me for a while." George shrugs, "But, I make fun of myself all the time, so it won't be anything new."

I shake my head, looking back at my laptop, "Well, I should get back to work before I have to leave. Thanks for the laugh, though."

"No problem." George winks, "Always happy to cheer you up. Are you going to be okay after work?"

"Maybe." I frown slightly, "Probably."

George nods, looking thoughtful. Slowly, he makes his way back over to his desk across from me. 

    *     *     *     *     *

When I get home, I decide to go for a run. It's a chilly day, but I still decide to wear only leggings and a sports bra to go running. My feet pound against the pavement as I sprint through town. My gym coach in high school used to tell us that the best cure for a crappy day was a good laugh and a long run. 

George had already made me laugh earlier. Now, it was time for the long run. 

For forty-five minutes, I clear my workday from my mind. This works for a little while, until other intrusive thoughts start to cloud my mind. My mind wanders to how much has changed in the past few months. 

I met George. That was a good thing. Samson and I broke up - also a good thing, although sometimes it still doesn't feel quite so good. I had a birthday. I lived one more year, which was something I didn't want to take for granted. I got this internship with Alabamafluent. If it went well, things could be different for me for a long time.