"I've seen you in the hallway when you think no one's looking, giving yourself a Chinese burn"
Howard visibly cringed as his friend teased him. He thought he was quite careful about it. Why couldn't he keep his freakishness to himself?
"I don't do that" he replied, trying to look busy behind the counter.
"You do, everyone knows", Vince wandered off to the other side of the shop and was quickly busy twirling around admiring his new punk look. Howard realised with some relief that Vince was generally too absorbed in himself to give his neuroses much thought. He went back to the absorbing task of re-organising Stationery Village. Something about keeping it neat and regular and unaffected by life's ebb and flow comforted him when he couldn't do, well, you know.
The bout of teasing was quickly forgotten and Vince managed to encourage Howard to follow his lead and make a scrapbook of his favourite Jazz artists. He knew how to cheer Howard up when he was in another of his moods and he knew that Howard had genuinely enjoyed himself making the book although he would only ever grudgingly admit it.
Howard's black mood was back soon after they had the first customer of the day. He had once again failed to sell anything and been shown up by Vince, fluttering in and selling the customer four things he didn't even come in for.
"Cheer up Howard, he just wasn't up for elbow patches and jazz, the next one might be"
"Really?" he said with more than a hint of sarcasm. Howard sighed deeply "I'm just going to take the rubbish out".
Vince smiled at him as encouragingly as he could. He knew that Howard was a not so subtle secret smoker and would often nip out for a smoke under the pretence of 'taking out the rubbish' or 'having a good look at this under natural light'. He'd never told him he knew but Howard seemed so much happier and more relaxed after he'd snuck out so he didn't want to upset him by letting him realise he knew.
Once outside Howard leant against the wall, dizzy relief washing over him. He had such an urge to scream he didn't think he could keep it together any longer if he stayed in there with Vince. He pulled out his cigarettes with a shaky hand and lit up. He spent a couple of minutes with his eyes shut trying to concentrate only on the smoke and the feel of the light drizzle.
After a couple of minutes when the cigarette was burnt almost out he rolled up the left sleeve of his Hawaiian shirt to reveal dozens of old and new burn marks across his shoulder and arm. A legacy from years of 'taking out the rubbish' he put out the cigarette amongst them wincing only slightly as he did.
He smiled, feeling calmer than he had for days. He was more than happy for Vince to believe he was a secret smoker who gave himself the odd Chinese burn.