I own nothing.

______________________

When I wake up, things are clearer. I can focus and everything seems brighter. I squint into the bright sunlight beaming in through the window. It's still open, and the breeze floats in and I shiver. Dallas is sprawled on the floor, a pillow over his head, half a burrito by his side.

I stand up and stretch, nudging Dallas with my foot as I make my way to the bathroom. Right off the bedroom, our tiny bathroom always smells. I wrinkle my nose slightly as I relieve myself, before zipping up and turning to the sink. Holding the edges, I stare at my reflection for a moment. My hair is long now, hanging limply around my chin. I shake my head, watching the greasy strands rebel against the motion. I run a quick hand through them, pushing them back. The urge for a good gel hits me hard and I run my hand back down over my face. Quickly, I turn the faucet on and splash water at my reflection. I hear Dallas shuffling around in the other room.

"It's too early to be alive," He groans, "are you the brat who woke me up?"

I give him a pathetic, toothy grin and he punches me in the arm. He grabs the burrito off the floor, shakes it a few times, sniffs it, and takes a bite. I watch, impassively. They aren't much worse day-old than they are fresh. Dallas sees me eyeing his burrito and hovers over it protectively.

"Go get your own."

"I think I just might."

We sit on the bed munching our burritos quietly for a moment.

"You're right." He says suddenly.

"About what?"

"Needing a job." I'm surprised, but I turn away from him, staring out the window. We're quiet for another minute.

"Go talk to Buck again." I finally say. Dallas snorts next to me and wipes burrito crumbs off his hands over my head.

"That little shit treats his men like crap. Thinks that just because he can lead a goddamn construction crew, he's suddenly ruler of the whole fucking world. I tell you, Pone, nowadays a guy gets one lucky break and he thinks it's all uphill from there. No, sir. No way in hell am I working for Merrill."

I just shrug. There's no point in reminding Dally how lenient Buck was with me, how many days he just sent me home instead of firing my sorry ass, how many times he'd slip me an extra buck when he thought I was "looking thin." One lucky break may make a guy confident, but it sure don't make him stingy.

"Well, if you won't go, maybe I will." I say, but we both know I'm bluffing. Buck was lenient and often generous, but he's a businessman now just like the rest of them, and hiring a loony just ain't profitable.

"Yeah, sure. Why don't you go over there now? Just march right up and ask for your job back. We all know how well you did last time." Dallas lets out one cruel bark of a laugh before leaning his head against the headboard and sighing. "I hate frozen burritos."

"Yeah? Get a job." I shoot back, frustrated this time. He glares at me.

"You're one to talk."

Boy, do I know that's the truth, but I just shrug and slide into my shoes, slamming the door behind me as I wander out onto the street.


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