Prozac

I

Zeke

"Zeke, I'm going to write you a prescription for anti-depressants." 

The doctor's lips were drawn tight as her pen flicked over the page, writing in that messy scrawling handwriting that so many doctors have. It was barely legible, but then again I was looking at it upside-down, so that couldn't be helping, either.

"We'll check in again in two weeks time, so make sure you and Mum book in that appointment with the receptionists." 

I chewed at my lip, managing to accidentally break skin. The metallic taste of blood flooded my tastebuds and dripped down onto the cream seats we were sat on.

"Fuck." I cursed, dabbing the blood away from my lip with my jacket sleeve.

"Language, Zeke!" My mother gasped, swatting my arm lightly.

Rolling my eyes, I continued to blot the blood to stop it from ruining the damn chairs further. Honestly, who's bright idea was it to put a set of cream chairs in a doctors office? It seemed to be some kind of sick joke.

"You are out of control, Zeke. I don't know what to do with myself lately; he's been getting worse. It all gets a bit too much-"

"This isn't a counselling session for you. I doubt the doctor wants to listen to this. They're just here to prescribe the drugs and move you along." I grumbled, standing up and exiting the room.

I pulled my jacket tighter around me, walking past the reception and out of the main doors. We were about a twenty minute walk from town, but I would rather walk the whole way than to listen to my own mother vent about me for another second.

She was probably picking up that damn prescription that I didn't want. She'll kill me for walking off when I get home, but I didn't really care. What did she expect when she spoke about me like I was the bane of her existence?

The walk had made me rather warm by the time arrived at the movie theatre. Shrugging my jacket off, I walked into the theatre and spotted my best friend, bored as hell behind the counter. He looked quite comical in his work uniform, his neon green mohawk defying gravity and so many piercings that a metal detector would probably just give up.

"Come to relieve me of my boredom?" Dave grinned, shovelling some popcorn into a bag and handing it to me. 

One of the perks of Dave working here is all of the free popcorn I get.

"You look mad. What did your mum do this time?"

"She tried to get me sectioned, I swear." I sighed, "She managed to convince the doctors that I was damn near suicidal so that they would give me some anti-depressant."

"And the bloody lip?" Dave raised an eyebrow.

"My own doing."

"Just ignore 'em." Dave shrugged, hopping up on the counter next to where I had taken a seat.

The theatre itself was a ghost town, so it really didn't matter that we spent most of Dave's shifts chatting and eating popcorn.

"There's this new worker, Elijah something. God knows why Bettie has hired somebody else. It's like she's in denial that this place is a money pit since that chain cinema place opened down the road. The kid, Elijah, it's like he's constantly in a state of panic, like really shy. All I did was enter the room and the dude nearly passed out; I only wanted to welcome him to the team."

"You're such a softy," I laughed, "People think you'll gut their children because you dress like this."

The 'this' I was referring to was the fists of metal rings, arms of band bracelets, chains around his ripped and studded crust jeans and his leather black boots. The rest of him was suited and booted in issued uniform. Bar the hat they're supposed to fit, which couldn't fit over his Mohawk, of course. 

"Look! There he is now. He's sweeping outside of theatre A." Dave pointed at a small guy with a far too big uniform on, "He's cute; think he'll like me?"

"If you tried to hit on him, the poor guy would have a heart attack!" I couldn't help but burst out laughing, drawing the attention of the guy, Elijah.

I caught him looking over at us for a second too long and sent him a wink from where I sat on the counter. The guy blushed and ducked his head down, sweeping quicker. Dave tried wiggling his eyebrows, which wasn't a talent he possessed, and I shoved him while laughing.

Elijah had floppy, dirty blonde hair and wore a pair of glasses that kept slipping down his nose as he worked, which he didn't even seem to notice despite the fact he was constantly having to push them back up. It made me smile every time he huffed and pushed his hair out of his eyes so he could fix his glasses.

"For someone who doesn't even work here, or watch any movies, you're here far too often." A strict, middle aged woman rolled her eyes as she approached us.

"You wouldn't have it any other way, Bettie." I grinned, jumping down and wrapping my arms around the woman.

I considered her more of a mother than my real mother.

"You're lucky that I love you." Bettie sighed, although she was smiling.

Bettie headed to the till, behind the counter we were sat on. She opened the register and counted through the money, looking concerned. 

"Clean this up." She pointed at the popcorn on the floor that I had dropped.

I jokingly saluted her, causing her to roll her eyes and stride off whilst I grabbed the broom, quickly sweeping it into the bin. The guy, Elijah, had watched the whole exchange with furrowed eyebrows. Obviously, he was used to the strict boss Bettie. I'd known Bettie since I was thirteen, so five years now, and over time I'd broken down her façade and found that she was a sweet motherly figure underneath.

"You're the only one who can get away with talking to Bettie like that." Dave was exasperated, "So you think you could convince her to get rid of this uniform? Red and white striped shirts don't really go with my green hair."

"I would but Elijah looks far too adorable in his uniform to sacrifice this experience." I mumbled, blatantly checking out the tiny guy who was obviously aware as his cheeks were bright red.

"Go ask him out if you've got the hots for him!" Bettie appeared out of nowhere and pulled me off of the counter I was sat on, "Don't just sit there and do nothing about it."

"Bettie, you know that's not my style." I grumbled, trying to sit back down, but Bettie wouldn't let me.

"Yeah, I do know. Your style is being single and pestering me at work. Stop trying to act cool and go ask him out!" Bettie pushed me away from Dave and her, towards Elijah.

I could hear her chastising Dave for complaining about the uniforms once again. 

Ambling over to Elijah, I noticed that he was still busying himself with sweeping, despite the fact that there's nothing left to sweep. Was it so that he didn't have to look at me approaching him? Even when I was stood right beside him, he still didn't glance at me. Not one to be ignored, I rest my hand against the wall right in front of him so that he had to look at me.

I smiled at him, my eyes twinkling with mischief, making him blush. He blushes very easily.

"Hi, I've been told your name is Elijah. I'm Zeke."

"Nice to meet you." He mumbled, his cheeks blushing an even deeper red. Absolutely adorable.

"Likewise. Could I get your number and maybe a date?"

 Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Dave pretending to gag behind the counter to try and throw me off of my conversation with Elijah. Elijah looked beyond shocked and very flustered; he could barely speak because he was stammering over his words so much. How cute. To make it even easier for him, I grabbed his hand wrote down my number and my name.

"Text me whenever you want that date."

I shook my head at the flustered boy and pushed off the wall, walking back over to where Dave was stood, smirking. I bid him farewell and decided I should probably head home. My mum would be waiting at home to kill me, I'm sure. Judging by the amount of missed calls I had from her, it would be a long lecture to listen to.