5: The Gangster Delusion

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And heeeeeere is another update, beauties! :) This chapter isn't necessarily as eventful as others have been and I've been really hesitant to post because I don't know if I'm 100% happy with it, so I just decided to screw it and YOLO. Shit goes downnnn in the next chapter, though, which will be up in a few days, so watch this space for that! Have another picture of gorgeous Griffin (Roo Panes) to the side, too, because his smile could light up a town :P Hope you enjoy, and I would love to know what you think! Lots of love, River. (Dedicated to Anjali, for being Laina's soul sister :P)

5: The Gangster Delusion

Sleep was being an evasive little bitch.

It was half-past two in the morning (or late night, depending on which way you wanted to look at it), and I was lying flat on my back, staring up at the eerie shadows on the ceiling. I was still reeling after work.

It was safe to say that my conversation with Griffin had completely ruined my day beyond repair. My teeth had been gritted for more hours than not, my jaw aching because I had spent several hours going about my daily activities with it stiff and angry and unable to make my expression neutral or anything that didn't resemble a scowl. Even Emilie shot me slightly frightened looks over the course of the afternoon from her desk.

And now still, my mind was whirring, burning with questions that I didn't even particularly want an answer to. I couldn't stop thinking about what an icy bitch he had been to me, although at the same time, I was aware of the fact that I kind of deserved it for being the one to snap at him first.

But still, the wanker. What a wanker! An audacious wanker, at that. A complete tosser, which I supposed was a bit ironic, considering I had been the one tossing and turning for four hours, unable to drift off to sleep because my brain was wide-awake and going round in circles.

Lewis hadn't come over this evening, either, driving down to his mum's in Dorset for her fiftieth birthday, which was probably another reason I could attribute to my lack of tiredness. I had been trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in for so long that my sheets were tangled up in a mess with my legs, but I didn't have the energy to untangle myself from them even though I was feeling a bit too hot, too tired from lack of sleep.

I was still grateful we had reached the weekend though, because I wouldn't have been able to get out of bed and go to work without at least six hours of sleep if it was a weekday, although I was meant to be going out for a coffee and lunch with Freya later today.

How dare Griffin act so high and mighty when he hadn't acted particularly professional during many of our conversations, either? He created double standards when it suited him, and that was what riled me up the most.

In that first staff meeting, he'd been whispering in my ear and giving me stupid nicknames, equally as guilty as I was of unprofessionalism.

It was also partly the shock of him saying something like that which irked me. When I had been working at Light My Match, everything about it had been so relaxed and casual: we'd all be cracking jokes constantly, so much so that going to work every morning felt like I was on my way to hang out with friends instead of going somewhere I was paid to be.

It was funny how the banter-hating prick (although I supposed that I hadn't been particularly banterous) had so easily made me never want to turn up to work again. I should have just stayed at my old job.

My hand twitched, itching to slap him. Instead, I had to settle for turning onto my side and tucking my hand under my own right cheek, glaring into the darkness angrily even though it was straining my eyes.

I wondered if I could hire some sort of gangster to punch Griffin in the face on his way to work on Monday. Not to kill him. Just maim or seriously injure, maybe. That would be quite satisfying.

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