fifteen

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i sat at the counter, pen and coffee in hand as i went through some of the bands paperwork

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i sat at the counter, pen and coffee in hand as i went through some of the bands paperwork. i frustratingly blew a piece of fallen hair out of my face as i scribbled words onto the notebook beside me. paul sat across from me, taking a glance at me every now and then. 

"please don't look at me." i grumbled as i pushed my reading glasses up the bridge of my nose.

"so i overhead your conversation in the studio the other day."

i put my cup onto the table and slam the pen down, lifting my glasses onto my head. 

"i had a lot of conversations yesterday, peter."

"it's paul."

"that's what i said." 

i take a sip of my coffee as he  scoffs lightly, nodding his head. 

"overheard you got fired."

"so you were eavesdropping."

"no i overheard."

"overheard on purpose."

"what? no. we were sitting across the couch from eachother."

"it's called minding your own business, patrick."

i grab the papers again and pull my glasses back onto my face as i start working out their finances for these last two weeks. 

"did you know these boys are three weeks behind schedule? we're really stretching this budget thin. anymore and they'll be paying out their own pockets soon."

"well, the boys are going to need an on tour physician. i know your already a nurse, so another year of schooling, and you'd be able to go on tour with them and get paid doing it. and again, it's paul."

i look up at him and put the papers down, biting on the top of my pen cap. 

"on tour physician? i've never heard of that."

"it's because nobody likes to announce that they have one. it makes the public think somethings wrong. but it's just a precaution. and also to keep the boys in top shape during their tour."

i sit silently in the chair, pondering the thought.

"a year of schooling?"

"at most. depending how far you got in nursing school."

"i'm registered."

"then probably about six to seven months."

i nod my head at him and continue with the boys paperwork. 

"who would i talk to about that? reid, i assume."

"yes. reid."

i hum as i stack the papers up, reorganizing the messy counter. 

honey // r. taylor *EDITING*Where stories live. Discover now