Metanoia // George Ezra Fanfic

Work Goals

Salty air fills my lungs as I step over to the ocean side. Far in the distance, I can see Emma, Ollie, and Miguel sitting in the same spot that we left them. George stands next to me, silently watching the waves roll in. 

"So," George says in his thick accent, "what song were you thinking?"

"I don't know." I sigh heavily, feeling nervous, even though we are so far away from anyone else now, "It's hard for me to pick favorites, you know? I like lots of different artists and songs."

George nods, sticking his hands in his pockets, "I get that. I'm the same way."

I look at him with a pained expression, "Do we really have to sing? I don't like singing under pressure."

"If you're really uncomfortable, then no, we don't have to sing." George says softly, offering me a kind expression, "It's just a game, after all. It's not meant to be taken too seriously."

I let out a breath of relief, "Oh, good."

George turns to face me, "I know I've already thanked you a couple times today, but I wanted to thank you again. It really means a lot to me that you would care enough to plan a trip like this so that Ollie and I could do something we really wanted to."

"Of course." I nod, stepping deeper into the chilly ocean water, "I couldn't let you all walk to the beach, could I? You'd miss, like, a week of work." 

George laughs, "I suppose I would."

The wind blows suddenly, and my hair covers my eyes as it is swept askew by the wind. The sound of it fills my ears, so the wind and waves become a natural white noise. I groan, pulling the hair band from my wrist and attempting to sweep my hair into a bun. I'm sure it's a very messy bun. 

George chuckles at my feeble attempt to fix my hair, "What are you thinking about?"

"I'm thinking about chopping all my hair off," I grumble, "because my internship makes me feel like I'm going through my midlife crisis."

"That is such a mood." George nods knowingly, "I'm glad we get weekends off." 

"Me too." I exhale my salt filled lungs, "I'm just ready for life to slow down, you know? I've been going to school for years. And now I'm doing my internship. And then I'll get a job. And then I'll work until I die. What a waste of a life."

"It's only a waste if you aren't doing what you love. Don't you love writing?"

I take a deep breath, "I love writing. But, it's always been my therapy, you know? Now my therapy is retail."

George shrugs his shoulders a bit, "Well, it doesn't have to be that way, you know. I think you should do what makes you happy."

"Yeah, maybe." I ask him, feeling weird about bringing the mood down this weird side street, "Does the beach make you overthink too?"

He pauses thoughtfully, "Yeah, a little bit. Also a little nostalgic, even though going to a beach like this isn't something we do in the UK very often."

"No?" 

"Nope." He says, turning away from me to look back at the foamy water, "But, I bet you if people just came out to admire the beach and listen to the waves that they would live a lot differently."

"They probably would. Too bad traveling and admiring beaches doesn't pay the bills. If it did, that would be work goals."  

"We should travel more often." George turns back to look at me, his eyes sparkling, "What do you think?"

I look at him skeptically, "Travel where?"

"I dunno." George shrugs, "Let's just take a trip. Not too far away, so we can just take a weekend trip. We could stay in an Air B&B, eat somewhere new, see something different. What do you think?"