Page 16 of Meet Me at the Metro

T H E O

To say that work has been utter shit lately would be an understatement.

In typical fashion, my manager, Rob, is being a fucking wanker. He constantly requests me to come in and cover extra shifts but always keeps me well past the bloody time that I’m scheduled to get off. It’s like he’s utterly oblivious to the fact that I’m a full-time uni student.

Either that, or he simply just doesn’t care.

The last thing I need is to be spending my time serving a bunch of old, drunk idiots all day. Yet, here I am…serving old, drunk idiots all day.

I should be sitting my arse down in front of a piano and practicing for the senior performance critique coming up at the end of the year because my mental health or wallet can’t afford to repeat this final year of my studies for a BA in music. Unfortunately, my water bill isn’t going to pay itself either, so I’ve got to prioritize my needs carefully. It’s the only reason I agreed to pick up this shift today.

My hands work quickly as I finish restocking the empty bottles of liquor and whiskey lined against the wall in front of me.

“Rob!” I call out as I finish topping off the final bottle of scotch and yank off the apron clung to my waist. “I’m going out for a fag.”

“You’re still on the clock, and you’ve already taken two smoke breaks this shift.”

He has a point; maybe I should take it easy on the cancer sticks, but also—with peace and love—fuck him. My nerves are shot.

“I’mgoing out for a fag,” I repeat, pushing through the bar’s backdoor.

The fresh, London air brushes against my skin, and I breathe it in, feeling some of the day’s tension release from my shoulders. I lean my back against the brick behind me, relieving myself of half my body weight while I yank out a cigarette from my back pocket.

As I stand and smoke, my thoughts drift to memories of when I first applied toGullie’s. God, I can’t believe how naive I was in thinking this place would be a promising job for a university student.

But you know what they say about hindsight.

The only positive attribute this tiny, greasy fish-and-chips-serving pub offers me is easy access to a wide range of alcohol and a reasonable living wage. Also, conveniently enough, the bar is only a stone’s throw away from Evie and Harvey’s place. That grants me easy opportunities to escape from many workplace situations and is actually how I came to meet both of them in the first place. It’s also—unfortunately—the way I came to meetherhad I not stopped by there after my shift the other night.

What afineintroduction I had withMiss Nora.

I find it amusing to watch her face scrunch up when I call her that.

Judging from the few short moments I’ve had with her, she appears to be just as much of a smart arse—albeit a much tamer one—as I am. At first, I found myself hating that, but now, sitting here thinking about it, I may find myself appreciating the challenge it brings.

I don’t necessarily enjoy arguing, but I can’t lie to myself and say that I don’t find it a little bit fun with her. It felt kind of good to get riled up by her—it felt refreshing to feel those levels of emotions again because, for so long, I’ve made myself numb to them. When she walked in, it was like all my senses were startled awake again.

God, that’s a little bit infuriating to admit—she’s infuriating.

And strong-headed.And forward. And… invigorating…

Bloody hell, I don’t know what it is, but something about her is so annoyingly invigorating, which is precisely why I can’t give her the time of day.

On top of all of her provoking attributes, Nora’s also just about the clumsiest girl I’ve ever laid my eyes on. This city really might just eat her alive, and part of me hates that thought.

She reminded me of amuchyounger version of myself—the curious and hopeful one. She seems so thrilled by everything this city has shown her, so enraptured by it all. So naive…

I can’t stop thinking back to a few weeks ago when she nearly fell on the train. I vividly recall the feeling of her waist in my hands and how she felt pressed against me. I remember the way she smelled in such close proximity, all sugary and sweet. I also keep thinking about the way her blue eyes, damp brown hair, and flushed cheeks became the only thing I wanted to watch the rest of the night if I had allowed myself to.

Shit.

No, she’s annoying. We’re sticking with that:annoying and unbearable.

Unbearable for the way she makes your cock twitch every time she’s around.

“Theo, get your arse back in here!” Rob shouts, and for once, I’m grateful for the abrupt distraction his loud mouth brings. “We have drinks to fill and stomachs to serve.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I groan, taking one last hit against my cigarette before reluctantly making my way back inside. The chatter of the pub fills my ears as I tie my apron back on and head to the bar.

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