Have Some Soft Angst Ig????? - Tumblr Posts

“The way ye work me, ye owe me at lest minimum wage!” Anne complains—but she takes the broom and heads off, trusting Adelé to show up with a beer and a broom for herself. She doesn’t mind the distraction, truth be told. It’s easier to work through her shit with a menial task at hand to distract her otherwise. (Again: Adelé gets it.)

Anne leans her broom up against the back wall, taking off her jacket with Jack’s dumb flag patch to reveal her tank top: homemade merch of her own band, which she wore with pride. She pulls up her hair too, starting on stacking the chairs only when it’s mostways up in a bun.

“That’s one way to say it.” Anne shrugs, focusing on the task at hand. One step at a time. “Another way to say it is ‘I broke up with Jack and now him and Silver are pressuring me to leave the band.’”

Menial labor for free tough-love therapy is one hell of a bargain, at least by Anne’s admittedly skewed estimation.

“What would be yer call in my situation? Short of ‘murder Jack,’ you understand—can’t have two counts on my record or it starts to look like a pattern.”

Anne clocks the green and grins to see it. God less Adelé—she gets it. And Anne’ll get it, too, soon as these fuckers are gone.

She slaps a hand on the bar top and uses it to abruptly push out her barstool. The noise catches the attention of the lingering bar flies, turning their dull gazes onto the just-over-six-foot redhead in the leather jacket. They wouldn’t normally have cared…and if Anne hadn’t tossed a guy into the streets one-handed earlier, she doubts she would have, either. But she’s in a foul mood and most of the drunks watched her do it. They hurry to the bar to close out tabs while Anne stretches, drops Adelé a wink, and meanders to the bathroom to splash water on her face.

Getting high in the early morning hours sounds great; going back to crash in Read’s couch for another sleepless night does not. She barely even recognizes the woman in the spotty bathroom mirror, dark bags and the remains of yesterday’s eyeliner under her eyes. She looks rough. Feels rough. Is rough, but this of a different kind. Exhaustion.

The bar’s pretty well cleared by the time she renters it.

“Bum me a beer and I’ll help ye clean.”