Ok, so, I have a wedgie.
Not the most ideal situation to be in whilst being interviewed for a passport.
I've tried to subtly pick it out three times now, but first of all, I don't think it's possible to do so without anybody noticing, and I also have made no progress. I'm just going to have to wait until the end of the interview.
Pity we're only two minutes and thirty odd seconds into the actual interview. Not that I've been counting or anything.
"Do you have any pets, Mrs. Jacobs?" The male interviewer asks me. He looks like he could be in his early thirties, despite the fact that he has started balding quite a bit. He also has a few crumbs stuck in his medium length beard.
But there were two things wrong with the question he just asked me.
1. Where the hell is the relevance in that question? Pets? Seriously?
2. I'm 19 years old and unmarried. I think Miss applies to me rather than Mrs.
"I--um, no, I don't..." I reply nervously. Interviews like these always make me nervous. "But just to clarify, it's 'Miss', not 'Mrs'."
"Just another one of my many tricks, Miss Jacobs. You see, if you didn't pick that up, I would've been concerned and therefore suspected you of fraud. You better listen carefully - I have many tricks up my sleeve," he winks. Ew.
"Noted." I can't make eye contact any longer, so instinctively I look to my hands, which are placed nervously in my lap.
Now I can't help thinking back to just a couple of days ago, at Harry's house. I haven't seen him since, but we've been texting back and forth a little bit. To be honest, the whole night seemed so surreal to me, but, cheesy as it may be, I can still feel where he touched me and I can also remember how his lips felt against mine. That's how I know that it truly happened. Plus I have a tattoo - that he executed - as proper evidence. Minor detail.
I need to drink red wine more often if that's what I get as a reward.
"Miss Jacobs? Are you listening? I just asked you a very important question." The interviewer has his eyebrows raised in expectance. Oops.
"I'm very sorry, sir. I'm just extremely tired," I lie. I probably got about eleven hours of sleep last night. It was probably one of the best sleeps I've had in a long time. But sleeping in Harry's bed definitely tops it...
"My question was - and I will only repeat this once - why do you feel the need to have a British passport? Why are you going to Australia?"
"Because I live there! I lost my passport, and I need to get home!" I practically shout at the man, this is extremely infuriating. But at the same time, the more I think about it, the more this already feels like home. Well, maybe not home per se - it's just starting to feel like a norm. I don't even care that I'm living in a shit shack.
It's not like I can just stay here, though. I have family and friends across the world who I haven't seen in ages. I miss my mum so much, despite her crazy personality. I miss Cheryl, most of all though. I feel like I've really thrown her under the bus on this holiday. Part of it wasn't my fault. I'm just a magnet to these kinds of situations.
"I'm sorry Miss Jacobs, but it's my job to ask these types of questions." The man looks at me sympathetically, and now I know that I was too harsh. I can't help it. Not to make excuses or anything, but I'm due for my period any day now. These are usually my worst days.
So the interview continues for another 25 minutes and I try not to pick a fight with the weirdo. It seems I've done ok because he smiles at the end and says, "thank you Miss Jacobs. We'll be in contact with you as soon as possible. I know that you need to get home, but protocol is protocol, and it usually takes around three to six weeks to get a new one in--"
I stop him, mid sentence, because what the fuck did he just tell me?
"Three to six weeks?!" I clarify, a little too aggressively. I mean, I don't know what I had been expecting, but that just seems like such a long time. I'm starting to feel panicky. I can't stay in that hotel for that much time. Despite the fact that it's a shit shack, I can't afford it. And I know dad won't be keen on it either. I am 19 years old after all, with a semi steady income back home. I'm supposed to be able to take care of myself by now.
Speaking of 19 years old...
My birthday is in two weeks, so I'm basically guaranteed to be spending it alone. Fabulous. Just how I envisioned my 20th.
-----------------------------
Back at the shit shack.
Who knew a place like this could be so bloody expensive. It is London after all, I guess.
I toss an old plastic cup with the remnants of red wine into the nearby rubbish bin.
My phone has been buzzing for the past few minutes but I can't be bothered talking to anyone. It's probably dad - I told him I had my interview today.
Just as I'm about to strip myself out of my clothes (I can't stand wearing proper clothes when I'm at home, I always have to make myself comfortable), there is a knock at the door that scares the absolute shit out of me. "Room service!" The voice behind the door shouts, and confusion has taken over my thoughts.
This is the first time out of all the nights I've stayed here, that somebody has come for room service. I'm suspicious, but despite my doubts I open the door anyway.
Yeah...bad idea.
"Joseph," I greet the man, somehow not surprised to see him in the slightest. He always seems to pop up at the most random times. Or the most convenient times? I'm really not sure at this point. There is just something off about him.
"Hey Miller!" He holds out a cardboard box with some kind of fried food, and immediately I'm sold. Goddammit. Fuck me for being too obsessed with food.
"Come in," I tell him, guiding him through and closing the door behind him. He takes a long look around the room and I can see that his nose wrinkles a bit due to the off smell. It's funny, I don't even smell anything anymore. It's like my nose is immune to it now - that's how long I've been here. "I know," I say. "It's dodgy. But it's what I've got for the moment."
"No, no! I like it...it's cosy?" He's trying to be nice, well it looks like it. "You look hungry. Let's eat these fish and chips before they get cold, shall we?"
So we do, and it's probably the best thing I've eaten in a while. Joseph and I catch up, and even though I have my persistent doubts about him, we have a good time. He's almost like the brother I never had, if that's not too excessive.
That's way too excessive.
After eating enough to feed a small army, I throw down my napkin. "I've got to go to the loo, I'll be back in a minute," I tell him, and he laughs in response.
"You're sounding more English by the day!" He says after me, and I can't help but laugh because it's probably true.
But just as I sit down on the toilet, I hear him yell out again. "Miller, I'm really sorry, but I've got to get going! I've just got a really important call and it's an emergency!" His voice sounds as if it's getting closer to the front door - he really is leaving.
"Wait--" I half yell, trying to pull my pants up but failing miserably and falling on the floor. "Fuck," I curse. That's going to bruise.
By the time I get out of the bathroom, Joseph's gone, with no evidence of him even being here in the first place. There is one particular thing that isn't right. I'm one observant girl.
And my phone definitely wasn't facing upwards the last time I checked it.
----------------------
I hurry over to my phone and notice that I have quite a few texts. Why the hell was Joseph interested in looking at my phone?
The most serious question: did he find whatever he was looking for?
It seems like it. He bolted so fast that something definitely wasn't right. Unless he really did have an emergency to attend to...
No, that can't be it. I'm almost sure he looked at my phone.
So I check all my texts.
From Mum: Love you bae. xoxo
Yep, the stock standard text you would usually get from your mum on the daily, right?
From Dad: How was the interview? Xx
Great.
From Unknown: James i swear to fuckfng god i'll rip your head off if you hurt her again!!! Answer me!!!!
Ok, so I'm guessing that must be from Ondine, the girl who practically abused me the other day over the phone. She's mixed up our numbers yet again. But wait, she's sent me another.
From Unknown: i'm sorry miller was it?? my apologies, i mixed up the numbers again xox
From Harry:
Here we go. The last message. I don't know why I'm so nervous, I just have a weird feeling about it.
From Harry: The other night was fun. Are you free tonight? x H
All I can say is I've turned into a pile of giddy mush and a nervous wreck at the same time. Why do I get the feeling that Joseph was looking for that particular message, from that particular person? Right now, though, there's nothing I can do. He can't have done anything bad, so I'm just going to try and forget about it. And stay away from him. I know I keep saying that, but this time I will.
The message from Harry was sent to me over three hours ago, which concerns me a little bit because he probably thinks I don't want to go. I reply straight away.
To Harry: sorry for the delay, would love to! what were you thinking ? x
10 minutes of aimlessly staring at my phone later...
From Harry: Just after I sent that I realised that my mate's birthday is tonight! Would you like to come with me. xx
Would you like to come with me.
Would you like to come with me.
Hell to the fucking yes!!!!
This is the first proper time I'm going to meet his friends - apart from New Years, but that doesn't really count because I only really met Gemma's friends.
But although I'm excited at the thought of this endeavor, I'm always extremely awkward when it comes to meeting new people, as I'm sure that's already clear. Well, more awkward than I usually am. Ha.
-----------------------
Four hours and two glasses of white wine later, and I'm redoing my winged eye liner for the fourth time. I don't know why I chose to be some kind of artist on this particular night - I've literally never tried doing winged eyeliner before - but I can't give up now. It's one of those situations where you've got one eye looking great, but you can't get the other eye to match.
I thought the saying 'sisters, not twins' related to eyebrows, not actual fucking eyes.
Unfortunately though, I don't have much time to work on my makeup skills so I instead just decide to wipe off the eyeliner and slap on some eyeshadow and mascara.
I guess I'll just be playing it safe tonight.
Although the New Years debacle really scarred me for life, it's made me now always ask what the dress code for some kind of event is. In Harry's words, it's apparently "smart casual", which I don't truly understand the meaning of.
Does anyone even know what that means?
They are literally just two contrasting words that make no sense to me.
"Siri!" I shout to my phone that is sitting a couple of metres away. It makes that weird beeping noise. "What is smart casual?"
"Smart casual relates to the neat, conventional, yet relatively informal style, especially as worn to conform to a particular dress code."
"Wow! Thanks so fucking much, Siri," I mutter, my voice dripping with sarcasm. That dictionary definition was really a big help.
"Sorry, I didn't quite get that," Siri replies, and I scoff to myself.
The funny thing with that whole situation though, is that that was literally the first time I've used Siri. I'm not one of those people who just asks Siri everything and that's how I get my information. I hate myself.
Why am I like this.
Back to the outfit dilemma - I decide to lean towards the 'casual' part of 'smart casual' and slip on some black culottes, a cute little top with no bra (wow! How adventurous!) and my corduroy jacket. Plus my classic boots. Bit of an OOTD for you!
Done and dusted.
Come to me, Harry.
--\\-\-\-\\\----\-\\\
Ok, so, complete filler I know, but I wanted to get something up ASAP. Where is Miller gonna stay?? For three weeks at least?? And who knew Joseph would pop up? What is wrong with this guy, anyway? And what will happen at this shindig...
I hope you enjoyed nonetheless and I have big things planned!!!!! Stay tUnEd!!!
Please vote and comment if you enjoyed, legends!
Also I saw Dunkirk and it was the most amazing thing ever and Harry was pure genius. I also have a major crush on Tom Glynn Carney so he may make an appearance soon, we shall see....XOXOX