Chapter 70

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Chapter 70

 

Nick’s P.O.V:

 

 

There was a lull in the crowd down my end of the bar, so I took the opportunity to rest my head against the scarred wood, closing my eyes in an attempt to shut out the rest of the world. Unfortunately, I couldn’t close my ears, and the loud music and jarring bass continued to resound through me.

My eyes had barely shut when I felt a sharp poke in my side. I flinched and stood up straight, rubbing my now bruised side. I shot my taloned boss a glare before returning my attention to the waiting customers.

I didn’t even need to wait for my barely five foot boss to berate me. I knew exactly what she’d say. I had to at least pretend like I was in some way sociable. Her words, not mine.

I couldn’t help it that I was tired all the time. I suppose I couldn’t complain though, considering it was my own fault. I specifically asked for the late night shifts; the longer the better.

I’d never been this dedicated to a job before, but it was for all the wrong reasons. I usually drifted from job to job; a couple of months here and a couple of months there, but I always grew bored…sooner rather than later.

This time, the odd hours suited me. Working in the bar gave me an excuse to go out almost every night without having to spend money and feel obliged to get drunk. I was constantly on my feet and I usually didn’t have time to think beyond whatever drinks orders the next customers were screaming at me over the music.

It didn’t always work though. Sometimes, the thoughts wormed their way through the barricades I’d erected around my heart. It was usually on those days that my boss practically stabbed me with one of her claws.

The truth was, I couldn’t handle sitting at home by myself, wondering for hours where Shannon was and when she’d be home, before going to bed alone – again. If somebody had told me even a year ago that I’d hate the thought of having a room to myself, I probably would have laughed in their face. I’d always enjoyed my privacy. How quickly things could change.

Shannon barely talked to me anymore. She treated me like she would a customer at the café or a stranger on the street; polite but distant. It hurt worse than angry silence ever could. So I threw myself into other things in a feeble attempt to ignore how my life seemed to be crumbling around me.

I spent my nights working and my days in the gym – even Mark refused to join me anymore, saying there was only so much working out he could do. I didn’t even have the routine of going to the hospital to cling to anymore. Ever since the fight with my father, I hadn’t seen either of my parents. It was harder than I’d ever anticipated it to be.

I rarely ever went to class anymore and I knew I was only one step away from being kicked out of college for good, but though my teachers pretty much hated me – charm would only get you so far, and mine had long since run out – they couldn’t do much because I always handed my assignments in on time.

I felt like I was drifting through life, everything around me monochromatic. It was utterly draining.

I pulled a pint for a customer, tilting the glass to just the right angle to get the perfect amount of head, my thoughts far away, my actions automatic. I remembered a conversation I’d had with my boss a few weeks ago, soon after I’d started at the bar. Well, it was more of a tirade on her part.

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