Page 3 of A Highland Gargoyle's Lucky Star
Right now, jobless again, my options aren’t great. Sure, my parents would let me stay with them for a while if I needed to, but I was their late-in-life baby, born when they were both already in their forties. Now they’re retired and living out their lifelong dream of traveling the country in their RV.
I shudder at the thought of sharing that cramped space with them.
Only if things get truly dire will I go down that path.
I head to the back room where I keep my stuff stored in a locker and sling my backpack over my shoulders.
Jared sees me out of the building before he returns inside to lock up for the night.
Heaving an enormous sigh, I cast one last look at The Watering Hole and turn away heading toward home.
Like most sensible people in Chicago, I don’t own a car. I can’t afford one, and it wouldn’t be worth it anyway. The train system gets me pretty much everywhere I need to go and my feet take care of the rest.
From the bar to my apartment is only about ten blocks, so I normally walk it. I know it’s not always safe to be out on the streets late at night, but this part of town isn’t too bad.
Most of the time, I don’t have anything of value on me. If somebody wanted to mug me, they could have my empty wallet and backpack, and I wouldn’t be bothered. Even my phone probably isn’t worth much, considering it’s a good six or seven years old at this point, and wasn’t a high-end model to begin with.
Tonight I’m more flush with cash than normal, but thankfully the street is empty as I make my way toward home.
I sigh, my shoulders slumping. What a crappy day.
Getting fired was just the icing on the shit cake for me. The first blow had come when I’d woken up in the morning to yet another rejection from a publisher for the children’s book I wrote and illustrated.
I pull out my phone and like a masochist, re-read the email from my agent.
Dear Noah,
I wish I was writing with better news. The publisher I pitched your book opted not to make an offer. They’re looking for “something else.” Vague and elusive, I know. Your book is great. It’s why I signed you as a client, but I’m hitting nothing but dead ends here. We may have to shelve this project for a while and try again in a few years. Do you have anything new you’re working on?
Best,
Megan
This was honestly a bigger blow than losing my job at The Watering Hole. I’m used to rejections on all fronts, but it’s always more painful when it impacts your dreams.
I like to think I’m fairly intelligent, but school wasn’t really my thing. Standardized tests were the bane of my existence and a lot of the curriculum bored the crap out of me. The only things I did enjoy were my art and English classes. Drawing is one of the few things I’m really good at and picture books gave me lots of inspiration growing up. As I got older, I realized I wanted to make fun and inclusive picture books for LGBTQ+ kids like me.
But so far, no one wants to publishDynamic Dan and the Magical Rainbow Drag Coat.
Who wouldn’t want to read a story about a fabulous little boy who discovers a magical rainbow coat that turns him into various drag beauties whenever he wears it? It also gives him superpowers to help protect himself and his best friend from school bullies. Awesome, right?
Sigh.
I still believe in my book but my self-confidence is getting shaky. What I need is something to revive my optimism.
God, I really need to get laid.
That brilliant idea instantly perks me up.
How had I not thought of this before? After the day I’ve had, I totally deserve a good pounding that will make me forget everything.
Pulling out my phone, I send a quick text to Matt. We’ve had a casual thing going for the last month or so. He’s cute and low maintenance. I know he sees other people but I don’t mind. I’m not looking for a real relationship with him. Besides, he likes to have sex.
And often.
With lots of different people.
And damn if he isn’t really fucking good at it too. A first-class railing from him would help me forget about getting fired.
