Thanks for the reviews. Here's the next part and it's Craig so was written by Jon.
Just one thing. The last chapter ended with Craig going into the gents, he didn't he went upstairs...oops.
PART TWO Monday 14th May Craig
I really could be doing without this today, a whole shift working alongside my idiotic step-brother as he attempts to woo just about any piece of skirt that walks through the door. He's doing it now, leaning across the bar, chatting up a couple of girls who've just walked in. They asked for a bottle of red five minutes back, they're still waiting. I mean there's no question they're hot, if I was even remotely interested in that side of things right now then maybe, just maybe it'd be me doing a whole load of drooling over the bar optics. But I can't be arsed with it anymore, and to be honest it's just plain pissing me off watching him make a complete tit of himself and leaving all of our customers feeling totally uncomfortable. He's already made one poor sod flee in terror by asking if her last name was Jacobs, 'cos you're a real cracker' he'd said. Which to be fair she didn't seem too fussed by… until he asked if she believed in love at first sight, then she fucking legged it.
"Oi, Darren!"
"What?" He's not even bothering to look at me, cheeky twat.
"I don't think their tits want any drinks mate, but you could always get that wine they've just asked you for."
"Wha… I… just one moment ladies, I'll be right back." Ha, look at him getting all flustered, serves him right!
And here he comes, to give me an earful no doubt… as if I care. Not sure I was expecting him to grab hold of my arm and yank me into the passageway though.
"Oi, will you get off."
"Just shut up and get in here now."
"What the fuck is your problem?" He's really pissed me off now, he didn't need to do that in front of the whole fucking pub.
"My problem? Your problem more like! I dunno where you got your face from this morning but I hope to Christ they gave you a receipt for it."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You've been in a right foul mood all day, I've had it up to here with you mate. In fact come to think of it I can't remember the last time I saw you crack a smile, your starting to look like that dwarf from that film."
"What bloody film?" Twat, if he's thinking what I think he's thinking I am going to lamp him one!
"You know, that film where the dwarfs all toddle off to work, and then all their little animal friends get together and have a house cleaning party… they all have a lovely time. I'm sure Steph's got it on DVD."
"Snow White?"
"GRUMPY! That's the one, Grumpy from Snow White."
"Oh very fucking original Darren, you ever thought of being a stand-up comic?"
"All I'm saying is, you need to sort yourself out if you're gonna work behind my bar. I'm not having you scaring away paying customers."
"ME scaring them away? Are you having a laugh?"
"Look, just get out there and plaster a smile on your face, is that really too much to ask?"
"Yes. Now are we done? There's customers waiting."
I'm just about to leave when he stops me again, grabbing hold of my cheeks and squeezing them like I'm two years old.
"Oi, what you doing?"
"You see this gorgeous little face of yours?"
"Get the fuck off me now."
"This is the face of Chester's Bonniest Baby 1989. Now if it was good enough for them judges, then it's good enough for my punters. Hop to it, Deano."
"Oh whatever, I'm gonna go and collect some glasses from outside, and I might not bother coming back if your gonna carry on like this."
I finally shake the idiot away and walk back into the pub…"Oh come on mate, I was only having a laugh"… leaving him to go and find his next victim.
I make my way outside into the sun, it's gorgeous out here and yet I'm stuck inside for hours on end… with Darren of all people! Although if I wasn't working I'd just be in my room anyway, Craig Dean the loner has officially returned. I don't care though, I got used to being a loner a long time ago. I just wish people would leave me the hell alone and stop asking questions that I'm never going to answer, stuff like 'What's wrong Craig? Are you feeling ok Craig? Have you still not sorted things out with John Paul yet Craig?' No I fucking haven't, I wish they'd just all keep their noses out of my bloody business.
I've barely got a foot out the door when I'm confronted with the last thing I ever wanted to see. John Paul, my ex-best mate, the person who once told me he loved me, kissing the twat that he calls his boyfriend. Not just a peck neither, a full on kiss with that absolute wanker. They'll be shagging next, over the fucking bench not caring who's around to see them. Just the thought of it is enough to make my blood run cold and my heart slow down, why the hell is he kissing him? I can't take this, I've got to get away from them before I do something I'll regret.
I quickly turn around and bolt through the entrance to the pub… straight into one of the hotties from the bar.
"Oi, watch out!"
Fuck, I've plastered the poor cow in red wine. She's been waiting at that bar for twenty minutes and now I've gone and chucked the whole lot over her. I don't stop to help though, if I did that then John Paul is bound to see me and I can't deal with being around him. So I make my way back behind the bar without a word, and I can't say I'm surprised when I see the woman re-enter with a face like thunder. She's about to give me a piece of her mind when Darren beats her to it.
"Craig?"
"What?"
"Oi, have you seen what your idiot barman has just…"
"Hang on a minute love, I'll be with you in two ticks… Craig, where are the glasses?"
"There weren't any out there."
"No I won't wait a minute, I'm covered in re…"
"Just wait a minute will you love, I'm talking… what do you mean there's none out there?"
"There's none out there, alright? Jesus!" Can the guy not understand English now?
"I'm not standing for this, I could sue you for…"
"Can you not put a sock in it for five seconds! I-am-talking! You know sometimes I wonder why I don't just turn gay."
"And what is that supposed to mean exactly?"
"Eh? It's not meant to mean anything Craig, I'm just saying it'd be a lot less hassle than having to deal with women like her... are you alright mate? You look like you've seen Casper."
"Err, hello! Are one of you going to answ…"
"Yeah I'm fine, why wouldn't I be?"
"Right then, well get back out there and fetch me some glasses then."
There is no way in hell I am going back outside to watch those two being all touchy feely and lovey dovey with each other. "I already told you, there's none out there!"
"Oh for fu…"
"Craig there's barely any glasses on the shelves, they've gotta be out there. Unless the phantom glass snatcher of Hollyoaks has struck again, which frankly I'm finding hard to believe."
"Can I get some service over here please?" Fuck, where the hell did he come from? The twat from outside is stood at the bar waiting for me to serve him, and I can't help but give him my best filthy look as he waits for a response from me… AS IF I'm going to fucking serve him.
"You know what Darren? I reckon there might have been some glasses outside after all. I'll just go and check."
"Finally! Right Madame, how can I help y... Christ, what happened to you?"
"About time too! That idiot over there has just…" I walk away from the bar as she slags me off rotten, can't say I blame her, not that I actually give a toss. The only thing my brain is processing right now is that HE is in here, which means John Paul is out there on his own.
I wish I could say I had the bottle to go over and talk to him, ask him if he's alright, but I know I won't. I just wanna see him for a few seconds without that slimy dickhead slobbering all over him, so I walk out on to the porch and stand there, watching him with his back to me. That familiar feeling consumes me, a feeling I've been experiencing all too often recently, one that usually results in me raiding the cellar for bottles of Stella to take up to my room. I hate that we don't talk anymore. I hate that I've lost my best mate, the only real friend that I ever had. I hate that he seems to be coping with the loss of our friendship a million times better than I am. But most of all, the thing that I hate more than anything else… I hate that he's in a relationship with someone. I hate that he's got a boyfriend who he spends his time with - time that he used to spend with me. Someone who he kisses and no doubt does a whole lot more with. It's that thought that tears me up inside, it's constantly playing on my mind, driving me insane. And my family wonder what the hell is wrong with me? If only they knew.
I don't hang about, I probably look stupid just standing in the middle of the doorway and I really don't want him to see me. I pick up a bunch of glasses from a nearby table - to get Darren off my back more than anything - then I go back inside again. I don't even look up as I pass the prick with the ridiculous name as he heads back outside, the thought of smashing every one of these glasses off his fat head is way more appealing than it really should be right now.
The rest of the shift runs relatively smoothly, aside from the odd sarcastic remark from Darren, but to be honest it's going in one ear and out the other now. I've managed to completely avoid the lovers outside… well, Spock came in for re-fills but I just so happened to need the toilet at that point, funny how the urge came on almost instantly. But apart from that it's going alright, I'm actually starting to think I may survive this last half hour so that I can retreat back up to my safe haven.
"Craig, go and collect some glasses if you're just gonna stand there doing nowt. You've not served a single customer since you collected the last lot from outside."
"What the hell am I Darren? A barman or a bloody glass collector?"
"Comes with the job description mate, now run along and fetch the glasses, the manager has spoken." Urgh, why must he insist on putting on that ridiculous voice all the time? I'm sure he thinks it's funny… it's not.
"Manager? Ha! Darren you couldn't manage a wank, let alone a pub."
"Ahhh, was that Craigy cracking a joke? Well I never thought I'd see the day. Someone slipped you a happy pill mate?"
"It'll take more than a happy pill to sort me out," I mumble, not actually wanting him to hear my little self-admission there.
"Sorry what was that?"
"Nuffin, now how about I collect those glasses, eh?"
"Riiiiight." So I leave him looking somewhat confused yet again. I seem to be doing that a lot with people lately, leaving them wondering what the hell is going on. None of them can help me with this though, I need to sort it out for myself. And I will… soon. For now though I am more than happy to mope about up in my bedroom with my good friend Mrs Artois, the only friend I have.
I walk over to the far end of the pub, picking up half empty glasses and crisp wrappers along the way. Honestly I should be paid time and a half for this crap, where the frig is Freda the cleaner when you need her? Some bloody cleaner she is! All she does is sit on her fat arse all morning demanding cups of tea 'for the worker'. How a woman who stinks as bad as she does can ever pick up a mop is beyond me. I'm lost in my thoughts as I silently curse damn Freda, thinking up ways I can poison her tea in the morning as I stack the glasses and wipe away the beer stains from the table. I'm just about to reach for the tea-towel that I've slung across my shoulder when that familiar voice stops me dead in my tracks.
"Two pints of Fosters please."
I swear to God I nearly drop the whole fucking stack of glasses as I look up to see John Paul standing at the bar. I thought they'd have gone home ages ago, and now here he is stood in front of me looking… err… yeah. Just as I did on the porch outside, I am now stood in the middle of the pub staring at him. I can never take my eyes off him when he's around - not that he's around much. I can feel my eyes becoming damp as I take him in, and I know I seriously need to get a grip, but it's hard, you know? Really fucking hard. And no, I don't mean it in that way... although, there have been one or two occasions when I… no, forget I said anything. I just wish thing's hadn't turned out the way they have, that we hadn't wasted all these months not speaking, and with the way things are right now I can't see us ever getting passed it. The fact that this whole mess is all my fault just makes it worse, but what's done is done, I can't take any of it back now. I battered the shit out of my best mate just to save face in front of Sonny fucking Valentine and he's never gonna forgive me for that… I'm never gonna forgive myself.
My eyes lock with his for a brief second as he looks towards me, and in those few seconds I feel as if all the air in my body is sucked out of me. I can't do this, it would be so easy for me to go over there and apologise, beg him for forgiveness and get our friendship back to how things were… but it'd also be the hardest thing in the world, knowing he could reject me in a second. Where would that leave me, eh? So I take the easy way out, turning away from him to dump the glasses on the bar before making a beeline for the passage doorway and straight upstairs. I've got a few bottles stashed away up here from last night, and I bloody well need them.
Thank you for reading x