"Hello?" Pt. 2

July 23rd 2016

Yee of little faith, those who thought something bad was going to happen!

Sarah, xx

~*~*~

"Sophie Clément."

"It's me."

"Hello, Me."

"You're angry."

"Am I?"

"I'm not sure. Are you?"

"No, I'm not."

"Oh. Ok."

"..."

"I went out last night."

"Right."

"And I got drunk."

"Mhm."

"And I deliberately didn't answer your call."

"Ok."

"Will you please just shout at me, or something?"

"Why would I do that?"

"..."

"..."

"I don't know. But having you shout at me would make me feel slightly better about the whole thing."

"Did you do something stupid that you need to be reprimanded for?"

"Not that I remember."

"In that case, I don't need to shout at you. I'm not your bloody mother. You're a grown man, go out, have fun, get drunk. Anyway, your day long hangover is more than enough punishment."

"How do you know I have a hangover?"

"Apart from the way your voice is  croaky and you sound like shit? My father called."

"I knew drinking with your dad would be a bad idea."

"And you still went out with him?"

"He called, said he wanted to get to know his soon-to-be son-in-law better, and invited me out for drinks. I could hardly say'no', could I?"

"Yeah, you could have."

"Then Jimmy could have hated me."

"Doubt that."

"How did your dad sound, though? Is he suffering as much as I am?"

"Nope. He's got a clear head."

"But he drank way more than me."

"He's fifty-five years old and he's Irish. He's had more practice at drinking than you have."

"My head is killing me."

"Mhm. Don't think I'm going to be sympathetic at all. You went out, you got drunk, you deal with the consequences."

"I feel like I'm dying."

"Your problem."

"I want to die."

"..."

"Scrap that. I already feel like I am dying."

"Again, that's all on you."

"Like you're a saint."

"Excuse me?"

"I heard about your sordid night out when you were seventeen."