In The Place To Be
Word Count: 3043
Warnings: Getting kicked out, drinking, thinking a pole is Jennifer Lopez, probably cussing knowing Zoe
Note: The fact that the reader is Bi is mentioned once
Another Note: This was supposed to be posted on Saturday to make up for not posting anything on Friday but Zoe and I were both doing stuff and we were too busy to post anything. Sorry!
It’s been a rough day. You were late to the bus, had TSA mess with your crap, juggling four bags (your only possessions now), and having your flight rescheduled for three days. Three. And the damn cherry on top? This was all after being thrown out of your home.
Yeah it’s been a bloody great day.
So here you sit at an airport, looking at the canceled flight sign two meters away. It at least the airport wasn’t too disgusting, you tried for optimism and failed as you saw the disgusting bland color of the walls. Oh and of course growling under your breath because you no longer have a penny to your name.
Or you had two-hundred dollars and a savings account but those you couldn’t spend that money on a hotel because god you have school, and then soon a rent. It’s gonna be a nightmare.
Water it is, you think as you stand up and haul your bags around beside you. Three days of staying in uncomfortable chairs, trying to sleep while simultaneously keeping an eye on your bags, and eating trashy airport food.
Life was looking great.
(Oh boy, and that was only the monetary stuff because no way were you touching the emotional stuff till you had access to a shower.)
After sitting down you managed to wrangle a notebook out of your bag to write. This chaos should be documented, shouldn’t it?
While your hand scrawled across the paper with alarming speed a man slammed into you with a cup in hand. “Aw hell, I’m sorry. Oh your shirt is wet and brown, here.” The guy scrambled for napkins at the counter you sat near. (Waitwasthatacoffeeshop-)