Conflicting Desires

Chapter Four

Tripp

I watch Big Jeff, our bar manager, walk into his office and close the door behind him. I'm thinking of either striding into the office and asking for my paycheck, or sitting back and waiting for Big Jeff to call me.

I pretend to be working, wiping the counter with a cloth, while my eyes stayed trained on Big Jeff's movements through the window blinds.

"Creepy much," Jean, my co-worker, and best friend say, blocking my view with her petite frame.

I nuzzle her to the side with my hand as I stretch my neck for a better look before my eyes settle back on her.

Jean rolls her eyes. She balances her weight in her hand and, with a grunt, pushed herself up onto the counter. She puts her two legs on the other side of the counter, jumps down, and then joins me in spying on our boss.

"I feel like he will not give me my paycheck until I ask." I voice out my frustration.

"Then ask."

"I can't," I say, dropping the cloth on the counter. "I am on thin ice with him. You know with the-"

Jean interrupts me. "The coming late, your inefficiency, and your rudeness towards him" she completes with a smirk playing on her lips.

Jean's never been one to mince words, right from the time we met. We met almost three years ago when my bandmates quit on me. I walked into a bar to request a place to play as a solo artist and there she was; raven hair, small brown eyes, aquiline nose, and porcelain skin. This petite woman had her arms crossed on her chest, which made me nervous.

She told me to come and sing anytime, it was none of her business. Then when I requested the amount I was going to be paid for my service and she said, "Why don't you get an actual job here then you will get paid."

So I got an actual job as a bartender. We didn't hit it off at first. I thought she was a judgemental bitch. I still think she is, but I now like that about her.

"Oh, like you're perfect."

"What do you need the money so urgently for, anyway?" She asks.

"When don't I need money urgently?" I mutter.

As I speak my truth, my heart is a heavy stone in my chest. But it's a fact though. Living from one paycheck to the next, I know that one tiny default can cause a ripple effect of instability in my relationship with Audrey and our finances.

It brings my spirit down when I think about it or talk about it. I hate to think have given up on my dream, because sometimes in my teenage years, my dreams were the only thing that woke me up in the morning. That gave me the strength to go about my day and endure dreadful nights in my various foster homes.

I owe it to the person I was years ago that believed in my music and my ability to make it big and I owe it to her, Audrey. She never left my side, right from the night we met.

Before then, I was alone for as long as I could remember. My parents died in a car crash when I was 11. I had no other family members so they put me in the system.

Music was the only stable thing in my life until I met Audrey. She became a constant. I don't know how I got so lucky. Sometimes I feel like I am dreaming and I fear I will soon wake up.

"Since I have gotten my paycheck, maybe I can help." Jean offers.

I look down at her. Our eyes meet for the first time today and the first time this week. We had both been purposely avoiding eye contact since that uncomfortable incident that occurred last week.

Last week, Jean broke up with her boyfriend and she was heartbroken. As a good friend, I cheered her up. We both got really drunk. We were having so much fun, then in a blink of an eye her lips were on mine.

The next morning, I tried to talk to her about the kiss, but she played it off as if nothing happened. I was kind of thankful for that. It means that I don't have to tell Audrey since it's nothing.

Then I found out that she got back with her ex. I know she is making a big mistake because she is afraid of being alone, but I don't want to advice her. I don't want to get involved again.

"Yeah, I don't think so." I look away, being the first to break eye contact.

I don't think it's a good idea to borrow money from her. If Audrey finds out about the kiss and the borrowing of money, she is going to flip. Or she will not. I never can really tell with her. It sometimes feels like she has a lot to say, but she doesn't. That's scary.

"Come on, like this the first time you've borrowed money from me." She raises her eyebrows at him. "I am just trying to help."

"I know and-" I stop speaking as soon as I feel my phone vibrate.

I reach for my phone in the back pocket of my jeans. I take it out to see who's calling.

It's Audrey.

"I got to take this," I say, putting a finger up before I turn. "Hey babe, what's going on?"

"Hey, I just wanted to tell you I might come home late tonight. My boss needs me, she's just getting settled."

"Okay, don't stress yourself ."

"I won't. By the way, you have handled our electricity bill, right?"

Audrey had offered to pay for their utilities this morning, but I assured her I will handle it today. I don't want her to have to do it. There's a lot she does and there's just a little part she delegates to me, so I have to make sure I get it done.

When I asked her to run away with me, I envisioned a better life for her, for us than this. Despite my best intentions, it's become harder and harder to make her smile every day.

That's why I feel if I can do these little things right, she won't have to worry and she can be happy.

"Yeah," I lie.

"Okay then. Say hi to Jean for me."

"I love you," I mutter.

The line goes silent for a while before she responds. "I love you too." She hangs up.

She went silent.

This minor act is like a stab of pain in my chest. It's not the first time.

I turn to Jean. "You know what? I am going to take you on your offer."

"Well, too bad, I withdrawal my offer." She says with a smile playing on her lips.

"Fuck you," I put my middle finger to her face.

"I am kidding." She chuckles, slapping my finger off. "But you got to cover for me tomorrow. I have this thing with my parents."

"Your parents? Good luck with that." I mock.

She doesn't have the best relationship with her parents. They are not happy with their daughter being a bartender. All her siblings are doctors and lawyers. I have met them once, her family is a lot.

Our regular day drunk saunters into the bar, his loud laughter drawing all eyes to him.

"You attend to him." We say simultaneously as we point at each other.

"I said it first," Jean says as the man approaches us. "Plus, don't you need to appear busy for Jeff?"

He comes in every day and, after a few drinks, his voice booms with stories. The problem is that he repeats his stories and it's now boring.

Neither Jean nor I want to be stuck listening to the same stories for hours.

"Fuck off." I cuss.