Mr. Wayne's pacing around like he's waiting for someone to walk in. And honestly, it's the most fucking annoying, bulshitty thing on the face of the planet. If I was scared of losing my job, I'd be nervous. I'm just frustrated that he's doing it. And that I have to watch it.
I mean, at least he has reason to do it, though. Will's late coming in and I'm, like, officially 20 minutes late getting off. And my window to talk to Murph is real thin.
And he's now paying me overtime, which is great for me. Not for him.
"The fuck is he?" he asks. No one's here. It's 3PM and there's no one here. Wayne's gritting his teeth and looks ready to kill someone.
I'm exhausted. A 20-minute break at 1 doesn't make the day go faster. Starting at 9:15 probably doesn't make the day go any faster, either. But I'm dizzy and not in the fucking mood to listen to another bitch complain about some tosser she's been ghosted by.
My hands're shaking. I need water. "Wayne, can I just go?"
He hisses at me and puts his hand up. Like he's trying to stop a dog. "One more minute."
I wipe my face and tap my fingers on the bar. Some people come in. I don't remember their orders, but by the time I've looked at my phone, it's been three minutes. "Right," I sigh, pulling off my apron, "I'm done."
"You stay there, Maguire," Mr. Wayne spits, turning enough to glare me dead in the eye. "One more minute."
I grumble. "What happens if he isn't here for an hour?" I don't give a shit if people're here. I'm done. My shift's done. I want out.
Wayne looks at me. He doesn't say anything.
I slam my apron on the counter. "See you tomorrow, Wayne." He's about to say something when I spit back, "I'm officially here for more than 6 hours. Wanna pay me full time now?"
He sighs hard and walks towards me, grabbing my apron off the counter. "Sorry, Tom." Mr. Wayne nods his head to the back door. "You deserve to go. That bloody ginger chav's gonna get an earful when he gets in." He nods again towards the back door. "I'll pay the overtime, Tom, all right?"
I'd believe him if I wasn't so fucking angry.
I go for my phone when I get to the back alley. Murph's already messaged me. Several times.
Hey, where are you?
Goodness, you're working late today.
Let me know when you get out, okay?
Wow, you must be working late today. I'm heading into work now. I'll talk to you tomorrow morning, okay? :)
My gut tells me to call him. I could catch him by a few minutes before he gets to work. I don't care about the time. I've missed him. I wanna talk to him. Just for a minute.
"Hi, you've reached the voicemail of Murph O'Donoghue – "
"Fuck," I whisper, and try agin.
"Hi, you've reached the voicemail – "
"No, no." I haveta get a hold of him.
"Hi, you've reached – "
I can't listen to his voice like this. It doesn't feel like his voice. It's low and calm and kinda robotic and I can't fucking stand it. I wanna hear him. I have to hear him tonight. I just gotta.
"Hi, you've reached – "
No.
"Hi, you've – "
Murph, pick up.
"Hi, you – "
FUCKING SHIT, MURPH.
"Hi, you've reached the voicemail of Murph O'Donoghue. I'm sorry I missed your call, but leave your name and number and I'll return your call as soon as I can. Have a great day." And the line beeps.
I hang up.
"God dammit, Murph," I whisper. I wanna throw my phone. It isn't his fault but fucking shit.
Then my phone buzzes.
THERE YOU ARE! :D
Wow, you were working LATE
I have, like, a minute before I go back to get ready for a meeting. Call me :)
I call him.
"Hello," he starts. I can hear the smile.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry – "
"It's okay, Tommy. I promise. Besides, how many time have I apologized to you for working late?"
A lot. You do it a lot. "Still."
"You're okay," Murph chuckles, and I can imagine it. "Hi."
"Hey," I whisper. I wipe my eyes. "Can you stay on for longer?"
"...no. I have to go now."
"You said a minute."
"Wh – it's a hyperbole, Tommy. An exaggeration. I can't stay for literally a minute. I have to go back."
"I missed you."
He sighs. "I missed you, too. And I promise I'll wake up early for you tomorrow morning okay? I love you."
"But Pup – "
"OkayI'mreallysorryTommybutIloveyoubye." And he hangs up.
I squeeze my phone until I can't feel my fingers. Until they've lost their colour. That wasn't enough. That wasn't enough. That was bullshit.
I must be a fucking joy on the Underground. I don't know how I look but people keep their distance from me.
When I get back to the flat, Steve tries to ask me if I wanna go out. Myanswer is slamming the door in his face. And then I scream into my pillow.