Yeah Boy & Doll Face

She asked me to drop her off in an unfamiliar downtown setting, a place I’d heard a little about before; it wasn’t exactly ghetto, but I could imagine it wasn’t the friendliest place on Earth after dark. I headed home after that, feeling the decline of my mood provide an excuse for my hangover to return with renewed force.
Admittedly, the caffeine shot had helped, but I didn’t really feel like another - I didn’t feel like much at all; maybe a Liam Neeson movie and hair of the dog to nail the headache.

Parking Mike’s car outside my apartment, I texted him to take his key and made my way to my room. He texted back a minute later, telling me he, Jaime and Tony were already halfway here. I smiled and shook my head: over eager little shits. Probably were desperate to tell me about their nocturnal adventures and the climaxes those entailed.
Hah.

I washed and changed out of my walkofnotmuchshameafterall clothes, back into a faded old t-shirt and skinnies before popping a couple of aspirin and washing it down with lukewarm beer from yesterday afternoon. By this time, Mike was hammering on my door, yelling profanities and demanding painkillers.

“Cool it, lady, the neighbours probably think I deal crack or some shit.” I chuckled, letting them in and giving each a brief hug.

“But you don’t - you do meth.” Tony stated loud enough for my neighbours to conveniently overhear. I punched his arm and closed the door behind them.

“Last night was insane,” Jaime laughed, collapsing on the sofa.

“Yeah, I heard Tony hooked up.” I said.

“You heard correctly, my man.” he replied from the fridge, where he was helping himself to beer with Mike.

“Apparently you had an interesting time last night too.” Mike added casually. The other two looked up at me automatically. I stared at them blankly.

“I what?”

“Hey, now, don’t be shy, big brother,” Mike said smoothly, walking over and guiding me to the sofa. “Tell us everything.” I made an attempt to escape, but the three of them pounced on me and pulled me to the sofa.

“I’m calling the cops!” I yelled. Jaime smacked me with a cushion.

“Spill!” he demanded.

“No!”

“Fine. Then I’ll have to accidently drop your vinyl collection out the window.” Tony replied.

“OK, alright! I’ll tell you!”

*

(Yasmin’s POV)

I climbed the stairs and unlocked the door to my flat; the deadbolt was broken and no one had replaced it yet, so my flatmate had left a doorstop wedged under the door on the inside, meaning I had to give it a little kick. I got in eventually though, and placed everything as it was behind me again. Shuffling into the little kitchen, I dumped my bag on the countertop and sighed heavily.

“Yasmin? That you?” my flatmate Kay called.

“No, honey, it’s Joan Jett.” I called back, popping some paracetamol and swallowing it with a glass of water. She poked her head around the door. “I left the Blackhearts outside - thought it might have been a bit much.”

“You’re alive, then.” she stated, coming in and filling the kettle.

“It’s all I can ask for.”

“It’s all I need to know.” she replied. “Where did you get to last night?”

“Well, deary, I had an adventure, believe it or not.”

“I don’t believe anything you say with that accent of yours.”

“Your Americanisms, love.”

“Your Englishisms, hun.” I chuckled at her sour mood and took the coffee mug she handed me: my distinctly dry sense of humour was rubbing off on her. “Before you tell me, you should know Liam’s left like a bunch of voicemails. He sounds pissed.”
Wincing at the mention of my manager’s name, I puffed out my cheeks and put down my mug.

“Alright,” I said, “let me call him back first.” She nodded understandingly and side-stepped to let me out of the kitchen. The landline was in the living room, and the digital numbers told me that Liam was indeed very pissed: five missed calls and four messages.
I didn’t fancy listening to him shout down the line via voicemail, then call him to be shouted at some more, so I ignored the messages and called him directly.

“Yo.” I said when he picked up the phone.

“Where the hell are you, Fakhri?!” he demanded immediately.

“Listen, Liam-”

“No, I’m not interested! You just fucking disappeared two hours before our shift ended - don’t expect to get paid for leaving me shorthanded!”

“Dude. I shake my arse for a living. You were not shorthanded.” I said calmly.

“Whatever. That’s no excuse. I want you in on time tonight - for your entire shift, or you can find some place else to shake your junk.” he snapped.

“But I-”

“Eight o’clock sharp.” He cut the line and I put the phone down. Kay was watching me from the kitchen.

“What’d he say?” she asked, giving me a sympathetic smile.

“That he can fill in for me tonight on the condition he can wear my black catsuit.” I said. She shuddered dramatically and I winked at her.