Take Me Home

I had my body slumped in the corner of the lumpy sofa in the living room. A box of Lucky Charms was sitting on my stomach as I sat staring at the exposed brick wall of the tiny rat hole of a flat I shared with my best friend. The only sounds filling my ears were the ones of the upstairs neighbors doing only God knows what, from the loud thumping I heard from above I imagined they were going some kind of tap dance. I was contemplating if I should tear open the box of imported sugary cereal or wait until Connor got home to share the wealth with her.

The thought of what I went through to afford the expensive cereal put a frown on my face and without another thought I tore into the box of cereal and shoved a handful into my mouth just as I heard Connor fighting with our door the only opened if you exerted enough force.

“Sup sexy?” Connor asked without any enthusiasm, looking exhausted from her job at the café a few blocks away.

“Nothing.” I answered sadly as I shoved another handful of cereal into my mouth.

“Lincoln, please tell me you didn’t spend rent money on that box of cereal.” Connor’s blue eyes looked at me in horror while I shoveled more cereal into my mouth.

“No. I had some extra cash.” I answered, watching my best friend unravel the scarf from around her neck.

“How?”

“Don’t worry about it.” I replied, holding the box out to her.

“Are you prostituting?” she asked with a smile, dropping onto our decrepitate sofa next to me. The cold London air was still clinging to her and it made me shiver.

“Always.” I laughed.

“Really, where did you get extra money?” she asked, all the light heartedness was gone from her voice as it usually did when we discussed money.

“I just…I sold something. It’s no big deal.” I tried to smile but I’m sure it turned out to be more of a scowl as I let my eyes drift to the empty guitar stand in the corner of the room where my ebony SG once sat proudly.

“Please tell me he’s in our room.” Connor’s eyes were narrowed at me. “Please tell me you didn’t sell your guitar.”

I didn’t say anything. I just shoved my hand into the box of cereal and let my head fall back. I slowly let the cereal fall into my mouth. I chewed and watched Conner shake her head at me in disbelief. That guitar was the last thing I had left that belonged to my dad, and I sold it.

“I can’t believe you did that.” Connor was clearly pissed that I had sold my one prized possession. “I seriously can’t even believe you right now. Why would you do that? You love that guitar!”

“It’s December, we can’t put off not having heat anymore. Our pipes will freeze and then we’ll be cold and fucked.” I pointed out, she simply shook her head and refused to look at me. “Besides, I never even played it. I took it to that one really nice pawn shop. I’m sure someone will find him and give him a good home.” I tried my best to make the best of the situation.

“Whatever, Lincoln. We would have figured something out. You didn’t have to do that.”

“What’s done is done. “ I said lightly. “We’ve got to be at the pub for nine.” I added on, letting her know what time we were scheduled to perform.

Connor groaned and flopped over sofa. “I hate the pub.”

Aside from our day jobs, I worked at bakery and Connor worked at a café, we would take our guitars anywhere and sing the songs we’ve spent every second of our free time writing. In essence, we were the perfect duo if you’re into acoustic guitars and slow, emotionally charged lyrics. Unfortunately, most of the patrons at the pub preferred loud club music that they could drunkenly grind against strangers to. Consequently, the pub wasn’t our preferred place to perform but they paid us and that was enough to keep us going back every Wednesday night.

We lived the glamorous life of struggling musicians, we did whatever we had to just to make ends meet but my God I fucking hated the pub.