TWENTY-TWO

HENRY

: okay, here's the deal. i have a hangover. who knows what that means?

: doesn't that mean you're drunk?

: no. it means i was drunk yesterday.

- school of rock, 2003

In the wake of everything that had happened (me dumping Isaac, being rejected by my father, Sherlock on hiatus, etc) I had a new life motto.

Life is shit.

Uplifting, I know.

But it kind of helped, in an odd way, as I sat on the sofa in just a blue t-shirt, drinking beer from the bottle (I never drank beer from the bottle; take this as a sign the apocalypse is coming) and warbling along to Morrissey.

"Good times for a change

see, the luck I've had

can make a good man

turn bad"

I was interrupted by my phone ringing - just as we were about to get the chorus. Typical. Fucking typical. Don't you just hate life?

Looking down at the screen, I whimpered slightly as the word SHANIA stared back at me. Shania had now bounced back from her break-up and was back to reading Eleanor Marx biographies and chatting up millionaires in clubs - or whatever it was Shania did with her life. anyway, I doubted she would be sympathetic. She'd always hated the smiths.

"Hey, Shay," I said quietly, once I'd answered.

"Henry, you bastard," she said, her voice low and urgent. "You need to get to work. Now, preferably. Unless you want to get fired."

I sighed. "I don't know. maybe i do want to get fired. Maybe it's what I deserve. maybe having a job is pointless and boring and destructive anyway, a cog in the capitalist machinery -"

"Oh, shut up," Shania sighed. "Is that what I was like after my break-up? Actually, don't answer that. Just get your arse to work, okay?"

"Okay," I mumbled, putting the beer on the table and stumbling to my feet.

"And Henry?"

"Yes?"

"I hope you're okay, babe."

❄

I staggered into work about twenty minutes later, smelling like strawberry shampoo and hangovers. I looked (and smelled) like I'd just crawled out of a bin, but I figured that seeing as I'd been the only one with any customers over the last month, I'd be okay.

Of course, that customer was my ex-boyfriend. Who I broke up with after my Dad rejected me. Permanently. But you've got to focus on the good things, right?

"Henry," Aaron Smith caller, striding towards me with a slight frown. Other than that, he was actually kind of handsome. In fact, if I hadn't been so heartbroken, I might've pulled out some of my pick-up lines, because Aaron Smith was smoking.

"Aaron Smith, sir," I replied, trying to keep some of the misery from seeping into my voice, which was little more than a croak.

"A - are you hungover?" he asked, his frowning deepening.

(I know I'm supposed to be miserable and everything, and I am, but am I the only one who gets turned on by hot people frowning?)

Swallowing, I said, "Yes, Sir. Just slightly."

Aaron Smith frowned. "You know, Henry, I can't have this in the workplace."

From her seat, Shania glanced up, frowning. I frowned back at her and then turned back to Aaron Smith. "Aaron Smith, please. I'm going through some emotional stuff, and it won't happen again, I promise -"

"No, it won't," Aaron Smith cut me off.

"Oh, good," I exhaled. "I really am sorry, Sir, and it is pretty deep stuff -"

"Because you're fired."

❄

"Aaron Smith is hot," I whimpered later that evening to Shania, who was watching me get drunk and sing along to the Smiths (again). "but he fired me."

"I know, babe," she said, patting my back.

"And I du - dumped Isaac!" I shrieked, so loudly we both flinched.

"I know, babe," Shania said again.

"And Dad's a fucktard!"

"I know, Henry," Shania snapped. "God, you're boring when you're drunk."

"I know," i hiccoughed, taking a swig of beer. "But you know who wasn't? Isaac. I miss him, Shay."

She sighed and grabbed the blanket from the other sofa. "I bet you do, Hen. But I think that's enough beer and Morrissey for one day, yeah?"

"No," I mumbled. then I got back to missing Isaac.

❄

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