Post Austin

3

"Girl I dunno." Brenda's voice resonates around the small apartment.

I have told Brenda everything that had happened. And now she doesn't know what to say to me, it's a lost cause.

"I think you should do something that you're not gonna regret. I just want you to be happy babe." she gushes.

I owe it to myself to atleast try, don't I? I am a free spirit and this could open a lot of doors for me in the future, being Post Malone's Beerbong holder is a big opportunity.

"Just tell me one thing," Brenda asks, "What exactly does a beerbong holder do?"

I sigh, "well, I'll be accompanying him to parties and everywhere he goes basically and I'll remind him of appointments, I'll always keep his glass full, close his tabs, clean his vomit if necessary, roll his joints, and basically anything he needs." I sum it up.

"So basically you're earning double my salary for being Post Malone's friend?"

"Triple," I correct her.

"FML." she exclaimed while rubbing her temples.

"You really think I should do it?"

"It's a great opportunity," she skillfully avoids my question. A true statement nevertheless.

I chew on my bottom lip before scrolling to his number in my phone and clicking on the envelope icon.

When do I start?

I sigh and put my phone away, not really thinking he would reply me instantly.

My phone buzzes in my pocket a few moment later.

I'll pick you up in the morning. G'nite lil mama.
Austin.

Holy shit.

I'm moving in with Austin.

That's terrifying.

Brenda was working nightshift so we said our goodbyes already, I promised to call regularly and keep her in the loop.

I couldn't sleep though and ended up tossing and turning through most of the night. I don't know if I have slept or not but before long the golden rays of sunlight is streaming in through the window.

I take a quick shower and pack the last things into my bag when I heard a vibration on my bedside table.

I'm pulling up in 10, you up?

Butterflies erupt in my stomach.

Good morning to you too, I'm making my way down now.

I pocket my phone and sling my bag over my shoulder, I'm wearing my faded black jeans paired with a oversized green mickey mouse sweater with my worn red converse.

I head out the door and before long I'm entering Post Malone's car.

"Hey baby girl," he leans over and hugs me before starting the engine.

I am taken aback by his actions and his smell, he is wearing last nights clothes and the smell of tequila is masking his natural musk scent. He hadn't slept, that much is obvious.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

He gives me a lopsided smile, "I'm terrific, how 'bout you?"

I side-eye him, "you haven't slept at all have you?"

He shrugs, "I'm good though, don't worry."

He lazily lounges behind the wheel, driving a little too carefree for my liking and he senses my tension.