Authors notes: Yes, I used the name Kathryn on purpose. And I apologize any of the money or anything is off, I'm not British.


Chapter Two: The Cheap Beer.

Naomi

"Jesus Christ." I say as yet another man presses up against me on a busy subway. The pole I'm holding on to wasn't much of a support, but a quite literally pain in my chest. I'm in London, trying to make a living off of a nine to fiver at a near dead coffee shop. It's late, but I couldn't tell you what time it is to save my life. Its been hours since the shop closed, but I had been sitting there for a few hours for the peace. There's no such thing at the small, communal apartment I'm living at.

There are two other women, three cats, and a man and his son sharing 2 microscopic bedrooms and a tiny kitchen. The girls are lovely, Danielle and Kathryn. Danielle tries so hard to keep everything balanced, but she never can. She has crying fits when things don't go right, and I seem to be the only one who'll help her out.

Kathryn reminds me of Emily, so much that it's painful. Her dress is different, but that's practically the only physical difference I can find. Her hair is darker, and she's slightly taller and thinner. She's not Emily. I have to keep telling myself that.

I've been lost, so lost since I left Bristol. I've been trying to start over completely, but its so fucking hard when I can't stop worrying about Emily. I wonder if she's alright, if she's fairing without me.

Fuck, her mom must feel victorious. She kept telling Ems that I'd only fuck her up. Christ, I hate that bitch. I feel bad for the fitches. I mean, Katie, Rob, Ems… They all have to put up with that psychotic bitch. Maybe something happened to her; maybe she's become a vegetable.

I'm laughing to myself, out loud. People are staring, some are laughing at me, and the crazies are laughing with me. I decide I don't want to go home quite yet, so I'm getting off at the next station.

The train screeches, and I step off the train after nearly getting pushed onto some business man's lap. I'm sure he would have liked that. I've never seen much of London, just the area I work and live in. I take the escalator up to the streets, its dark. I peek into a shop window to see what time it is, 12:48. Christ, it's a lot earlier than I thought. I dig my hand into my bags outside pocket, trying to decipher how much money I have on me from my tips. I finger apart a few One pound coins from the rest of the change. I count about 7. I feel a few bills, and pull them out along with the coins.

"27 Pounds." I sigh. I try to find a near by bar, but I'm completely lost. I hate London, I miss Bristol. Old, familiar, home Bristol. But I couldn't go back. Not after all that's happened, not after abandoning everyone. I don't think I could face everyone. I kind of wish Freddie was still alive; I think I actually had a friend in him. Everything seemed a little bit easier before he died, and even easier before college. I'm wandering the dark uptown streets.

I finally find a decent looking bar, I walk in. I order a pitcher of their cheapest beer. I sit at the empty two-seat table near the door. After a glass and a Half, I see my room/bed-mate Kathryn walking through the doors of the seedy bar. I wave her over, smiling. I don't know her that well, so I decide we'd acquaint ourselves over a few pitchers of beer.

"You hear alone?" I ask her as she stits at the other side of the small table.

"Yeah, I had real shitter of a day. I figured I could drink myself into the arms of some stranger." She laughs absently, "But hey, you're here. Maybe you could make me feel better."

"Maybe, but I've had a shit day too." I sip my cheap, cheap beer, "We might need to cheer each other up."

"Yeah." She sets her hand under her chin and smiles at me. She's staring thirstily at my nearly full glass.

"Its cheap, but you want some?" I ask her. She nods, "I'll go get you a glass then." I rush myself over to the bar tender, asking for an empty glass. I'm glad Kathryn ended up here tonight. I've been so alone in London. I reach the table to find her drinking from my glass.

"Thirsty, were you?"

"Heh, yeaaaaaah." She breathes, only hardly taking the glass from her lips. "Keep that one, you know, for you."

I laugh at her quietly. "Of course." I stare at her through the dim lighting, analyzing her face. She looks too much like Em, I have to get out. I can't let this happen.

"So, I don't think I know a thing about you, Naomi." She begins fingering the tips of her hair, but not flirtatiously. "Well, I mean, I know your name and shit. I know you work at a coffee shop and that you give a fuck about politics, but that's it. I don't even know where you came from."

"My mum, clearly." I reply immaturely.

"S'not what I Meant." She sipped her beer. "Christ, this shit is cheap isn't it?"

"Sorry, I'm kinda short on cash." I gulp mine. "Living of of two pound tips, y'know?"

She laughs. "You never answered my question, Naomi."

"Well, Kathryn, I'm from Bristol. That satisfy you?" Hello, sarcastic exterior. Its been a while, hasn't it?

"No, it doesn't. I Do honestly want to make an effort to know you." She sighs, "You seem… alone."

Memories of Emily saying similar things are rushing through me.

I know you, Naomi. I know you're lonely.

It's as if she was whispering it in my ear. "Well, I'm not very good at making friends."

"What about a boyfriend?"

"Try again, I'm gay." I think that was the first time I was able to just say it like that. Congratulations, Kathryn, you've opened me with very little effort. Maybe it's the cheap beer. "And I had one, but I ran away."