The Game of Love and Losers

EIGHT

Song inspirations - Bittersweet symphony - The Verve, Everybody Hurts - REM

Dave drained the last dregs of lager from the can.

 It was the last can he had from the four he had bought earlier that day. Outside it was going into the evening, and through his window, the darkness seeped in, so that the only bright light in the room came from the television were some quiz show with its host and contestants provided the only other human company he wanted to be around lately.

It had been just over three weeks since he had lost his job, and had suffered the beating. Although the swelling and bruising to his face had gone down and faded, his morose mood had only increased with the situation he was left in. He crushed the empty tin can with his hand, as he realised, he wouldn't be able afford to buy any more lager for a while.

He wasn't sure he would even have a roof over his head the way things were going,  He had just about been able to pay his rent this month, even though, it meant he had to cut down on food and heating. He couldn't have a smoke because he couldn't afford the cigarettes, which made him more irritable than usual, and the reason why he was avoiding people in general. Then to top it all of Shauna and Peter would be flying off to Spain this forthcoming weekend to start their new life together, taking Mikey with them.

It hadn't helped that he had hardly seen Mikey over these last few weeks, because Shauna had been so concerned that the state of Dave's bruised and broken face might frighten their son. He also had to listen to her lecturing him about getting into fights, and managing to lose his job, making her feel even more justified that she was doing the right thing, and he wasn't a fit parent to be around.

Everyone seemed to be getting on with their lives just fine, apart from him, he was realising gloomily. He was beginning to believe Shauna was right, he was a loser, he couldn't keep a job, a family, or a roof over his head. What was the point of going on? He might as well go out and throw himself into the nearest river, no one would miss him or care that he was gone.

These dark thoughts continued to pervade his mind, seeming more appealing as the minutes ticked by, he was so just tired physically and mentally, to want to go on anymore, it was easier to just give up and give in to the crap that was thrown at him lately.

He was on the verge of dozing over on his sofa with these thoughts, the noise of the television droning in the background starting to fade, when the sound of his doorknocker banging loudly startled him back into his surroundings, making him open his eyes and peer around him in confusion for a moment.

Another loud knock now made him sit up straight, and swear as he wondered who on earth it could be at this time of the evening, he certainly was not expecting anybody.

He finally got up and went to answer the door. There was something familiar about the tall figure that outlined the frosted glass pane on the other side of the door, that made Dave hesitate before opening it. His first suspicions who he thought it might be, were confirmed when he heard the male gruff voice, "C'mon Dave, open the bloody door, it's freezing out here!"

He recognised it as his old army buddy, Mick Brennan, who he hadn't seen or heard from in over three years.

Dave now opened the door, filled with curiosity, just wondering how on earth his old pal had suddenly found him, and then suddenly decided to show up at his door, after all this time?

Yet there he was, as large as life standing there. He had put on the weight,  his fair hair was longer than Dave remembered, and he was now also sporting a scruffy blonde beard to match, but there was that same cheeky twinkle in his green eyes, as he stood staring at him expectedly, with that daft grin on his face.