The story of a lonesome ol'Jerome
Downstairs
*Harriet’s POV*
I can’t fucking sleep. Or, rather, I just don’t want to go to bed. I’ve had terrible insomnia lately. I know it’s getting late, it’s almost 6 am, and even though I have tomorrow off, a small part of me feels like I should try and adhere to some sort of schedule. But I was still all souped-up from seeing the Brides. They were peachy-keen!
I heard Vetgirl get home, she sounded upset, she was crying as she went up the stairs. I stood up, but then suppressed the urge to go check on her. She had always been friendly to me, but given me the ‘hands off’ vibe.
A few minutes later, I heard her smack her bathroom mirror, and my heart reached out to her. Goddammit! I wanted to go up there, say something, offer to be there for her, make sure she was ok. I realized I was chewing a little too hard on one of my lip rings. I know that some people are just loners and want space, but it’s so hard to hear her when she cries and do nothing…
I wonder what she’s like, what is bothering her? I know she’s a veterinarian, because she has bumper stickers from the vet school she went to on her car, and every now and then I see her with scrubs or a stethoscope on, if she wears them home from work. I know she has a lip ring that she wears outside of work, and smaller tunnels that she hides with work-appropriate earrings. I also know she likes some cool music, based on what I hear coming out of her car before she rolls the window up, when she’s parking.
My thoughts are interrupted by an angry yell from upstairs. I have to do something to let her know she’s not alone! I get the broom, and gently tap the ceiling. I hope she knows what I mean…
I decide I’d better get to bed. But one quick look at Tumblr first… I just love Ezra Miller, I can’t wait for Madame Bovary to come out, though it’s going to be over a year! How will I survive! And BVB’s new album is coming out in a few months! Man, I love leopard geckos! And… the fuck? Vetgirl is on my Tumblr… I investigate further.
A few minutes later, Vetgirl is Gwyn, and I have a slightly better idea why she is crying. But I don’t have her number, I don’t know her last name, I don’t know where she works. All I know is where she lives. But I have to do something. Andy is my hero. And not just mine. And my gut tells me that Vet-, I mean, Gwyn, maybe, she could be happier if she made a connection with someone. What the fuck should I do? What could I do?
4/15/17