Plus this happens a couple of hours after Wrath...Sorry I'm doing a Star Wars and fucking up the numerical order :P
Next up is Pride (Vanity) which I've been looking forward to writing so I'll try and make it a good one!
xx
Envy
Hating other people for what they have
Another boring day in the shop, Naboo has gone off to a Shaman meeting and Howard isn't speaking to me at all, my head feels like it's being split into two with a saw and my knuckles are swollen and constantly stinging. The bandage round my fingers have made them feel cold and lifeless, I tap the counter gently with my numb fingertips and flick through a magazine idly. My eyes go out of focus on the text so instead I look at the pictures, the glossy pages shine in the light making me tip the paper slightly to see the photo properly.
I can sense him stood near me, just out of my eye line. Last time I glanced he was stood with his back to me leaning against the counter, he hasn't spoken to me since he stormed out of the bedroom screaming at me to fuck off. I haven't bothered to say anything to him either; he hasn't even said anything about my wrapped up hand. I know he's seen it though, he was starring for at least five minutes. The bell above the shop rings sending shocks to my delicate head increasing the headache slightly, I look up from my magazine, Howard's head lifts too towards the door where a young lady has just walked in. Her hair is amazing, tied back with bangs hanging down near her eyes; her fringe lies across her forehead to the side perfectly. In the light the strands glisten red but her hair colour appears a black or dark brown at least. A pair of sunglasses sit on top of her head, the sun had disappeared behind a cloud ten minutes ago flooding the shop in shade and cold. Her green eyes sparkle under the shop light, a pair of lightning bolt earrings jingle and clang together as she enters. Her clothes make her look sophisticated even though they are a pair of skinny jeans, some converse and a low cut V-neck top which stretches down past where the pockets of her jeans should be. I notice a pink band that sits on her wrist, a charity band probably.
I sit up expecting her to wander over to me with a dazzling smile but instead she heads straight to a stand of old records, Jazz records. My own smile fades, the pain in my hand comes back a split second later and I sit back in my seat, chin in my good hand flicking back through the pages. She can't be very cool if she likes Jazz but I keep finding myself glancing at her every so often just to see if she looks my way.
Which she doesn't.
She picks up a record and turns in our direction asking how much it is, I shrug half-heartedly but Howard wanders over to talk with her, I feel a strange pang in my stomach as he does. This is strange, the tables have turned and I don't like it.
She laughs at his jokes, smiles at him whenever they catch eye contact, he shows her Jazz vinyl's, she gathers a few up in her arms and flicks through them, she reads the back covers while he blurts out random boring old facts about Jazz. She loves it all though, but she shouldn't. She should be talking to me; we should be chatting about Gary Numan, clothes, accessories and shiny things.
He pulls a record from the rack and flips it over in his hands saying it's a very 'rare LP'. Unfortunately for me he puts it on the record player and together they listen to the music, talk about the artist and even scat along with it.
My headache worsens with the awful genre that makes me feel physically sick, why is he doing this to me? Putting me through this torture when he knows I am allergic to Jazz, when he knows this girl should like me and not him. He glances over his shoulder at me, my chin still in my hand, my eyes stuck on the two of them, my skin appears paler on my arms, my headache turns to dizzy spells. I glare at him when he looks again but he gives me a blank look and turns back to the girl.
With my head in my hands I watch them constantly, they've changed the record now to more Jazz, they've been talking for at least twenty minutes now and had even danced together to one of the records. Eventually they stop and she turns to him and asks him one thing, one thing she should be asking me.
'Do you want to go for a coffee sometime?' Yes, I'd love to but obviously I'm not good enough for you. You want the Jazzy Northern freak instead.
He nods, says he'd love to and cheekily glances back at me again with a slight smile on his face. I scowl at him, he knows he's pissed me off now.
'Here's my number.' She grins handing over a piece of paper she has just scribbled on 'Give me a call and we'll arrange something, yeah?' he nods dumbly and smiles at her, she picks up one of the records and brings it over to the counter with him following 'I'll take this please.' She smiles warmly at me, a smile that almost appears like she feels sorry for me.
I just stare at her still with a scowl on my face and my chin in my hand, Howard coughs to try and get me to react and take her money, I don't move, don't bother. Why should I? She's his girl, not mine. She doesn't want my attention so why should I give it her?
I hear Howard sigh, he takes the money from her and apologises for my behaviour, I stare at her, stare her out making her feel nervous and uncomfortable, I can see it working but when she looks at him and smiles her nerves melt away, I can tell. I should have been the one to do that; I should be the one to make her feel comfortable around Howard Moon, the Jazz weirdo.
'Thank you' she grins then glances down at me, her smile drops and I say nothing but stare and tap my fingers against the counter. She glances down and notices my hand is bandaged, I nod my head in Howard's direction ever so slightly, she notices and thinks he was the one who messed my hand up. Her lips part a little into the formation of an 'o' as Howard walks with her to the shop door and wishes her a good day, he mentions about coffee and she warms up again and grins, nods and leaves with her stupid record under her arm.
When he shuts the door, he turns to me and scowls deeply then heads into the back of the shop.
'Watch out Vince, your eyes are turning green.' He mutters at me as I stare down at my magazine still with a frown planted on my face at actually not getting the girl for once.