The days continue to pass until it is Monday again. Consequently, it is time to clean the sofas in the lobby. Joan or Jean or whatever her name is once again goes upstairs to clean the carpets. Hopefully, she doesn't use the vacuum on the top floor today, disturbing the guests who aren't forced to wake up before the sun has risen.

It occurs to me that one of the guests that she could awake might be Draco. He said he was only staying in the other hotel for a few days. He could be somewhere in these walls, and I wouldn't even know it yet.

He didn't try to steal me away this weekend. In fact, he makes plans for us this upcoming weekend. It will be the longest I've gone without seeing him. He didn't explain why he wouldn't be around, although I didn't ask. Inquiring does imply that I have some sort of idea about the permanency of our situation.

I don't.

Graham greets me again when the lift dings. His voice is the melodic one he uses for customers. When I round the corner, his spine is straight, and his head is held high. He relaxes upon seeing me.

"I don't know why I always expect you to be a guest," he says. "There is a lull between 4 and 6 every day since the night owls have come back and the early birds are still sleeping, or at least still getting ready in their rooms. At least, if Janet isn't on duty."

"Right," it's all I can manage before I begin to work again.

The sofas are filthy again. This time, I start with the wooden chairs, putting off the mess. The ground needs sweeping as well. I huff, even though I don't want to make noise. It betrays something about me to Graham that I don't want him to hear. After all, I have feelings.

"You coming to Vanish again, Friday?" he asks.

I almost laugh, "what?"

"Well, it seems Ali, Amanda and John made up," he says. "They didn't tell you about Saturday?"

No, they didn't. As much as I understand that they are closer than me, they used to make a more conscious effort not to leave me by the wayside. Yet, it seems they are without me more than usual. Maybe it's because they cannot text me. Really, it's because I am forgettable.

"No," I shake my head. I don't look back at him, hoping he will take the hint.

"Well," he does not take the hint, "John invited Ali out, on like a date, but I know he had no romantic intentions for the night. Anyway, she said no, because she just wants to be single, but you and I both know that it is to spare Amanda's feelings. Then, John asked them both to go to a party at Paul's, and we all went together, and nobody got in a cat fight."

"Good to know," I'm sure my voice is not as dry as I would like it to be.

"Anyway, we are going to Vanish on Friday, so you should come," he says.

"Maybe," I get on my knees to scrub the legs of the chair.

"Really," he presses on. "You still owe me a night of drinks, and I do intend to collect."

"I'll come if they ask me," I shake my head.

They won't ask me. They would've already done so if that was their intention. This way, I won't have to think about buying a different dress to wear or keeping my liquor at an appropriate amount to consume.

"I'm asking you," he says.

I turn around. He is looking at me with kind eyes.

"Thought you were married to the job," I ask.

"I am," he continues. "Doesn't mean I can't have an affair."

I roll my eyes and continue to clean, moving on to the fourth chair at the table. Soon enough, I'm all done. When I finally get up and move on to the sofas, Graham comes out from behind the desk and stands next to me. I continue to get out the vacuum while he taps his foot.

"What?" I ask.

"I just..." he pauses, before continuing. "Jane, I just want you to come out and have fun. Dealing with your two flatmates and my housemates who want to screw them is kind of a nightmare. You're tolerable."

"My friends aren't tolerable?" I ask.

He almost laughs, "when drunk? Absolutely not. They are sloppy. When you drink, you somehow become more coherent."

While Graham can say that I make more sense when I drink, he doesn't really mean it. What he means is that I'm less rowdy. He didn't see how incoherent I was when Amanda, Ali, and I went to the pub, and I got shitfaced. He didn't see me let Draco rake his hands up my body even though we clearly don't like each other, even as friends and certainly not more. He didn't see me panic so hard that I ran barefoot into the night.

"I'm not trying to sleep with you," Graham scratches the back of his neck. "You just should come and have fun with us. You seem miserable at work."

"Do you enjoy working at the inn?" I almost laugh.

"Well, you seem more miserable than you ought to be anyway," he says. He turns his back and heads behind the desk. "Think about it."

I hate that I do think about it. My body and brain have been punishing my soul for so long. Maybe I don't go to the library and pick out books not solely because of the headaches. It's possible I won't let myself be happy at all. After all, I haven't checked my email for an update on the dental position. In fact, it's the only job I have applied for outside of the inn while living in Inverness, and I think cleaning teeth would make me less happy than I already am.

For the rest of my shift, I ponder. It's been years since I've listened to music, and I used to love that. Really, I used to love all sorts of art, from sculptures to plays to architecture. Back before all of this, I did things that I liked. Now, I try to fill a hole inside me in any way that I can. The only thing that I have going for my body is that I'm not a chain smoker. My liver is probably shot, and I don't treat my digestive system well either.

When it is time to leave my shift, I change into clothes that I intend to wear for the rest of the day. I don't even really like the way the stuff I wear looks. The old me feels so out of reach. She is living a real life and I am her reflection.

Blaise in the lobby. I suppose that I should have expected him sooner or later, but it is still shocking. It's been nearly two weeks since we last spoke. He had said that he and Draco had anticipated leaving a week ago today. Yet, Draco has not left and neither has Blaise.

"Jane," he is sitting on the sofa. He looks up at the clock in the room. "You're late."

"I change after my shift," I explain, approaching him. "Also, I can't be late when I'm not expecting you."

"Let's go, shall we?" he asks.

Something flashes in his eyes. Like the night at Vanish. I recognize something in them, an emotion that I would recognize anywhere. It had been too dim to put a name on it then, but I can see it now. He is trying to contain his fury.

"Rain check?" I ask.

He peers out the windows, before looking back at me. He stands, so close. His body towers above me, "it's not raining, Jane."

"It's a figure of speech," I explain. "Did the private school Mummy paid for not teach common English expressions?"

His eyebrow twitches, "come on now. We are late."

"Jane," Graham's voice comes from behind me. I turn my head to look at him. He smacks his forehead, but gently. "I misplaced the key cards again. I'm so painfully daft."

"You are daft," Blaise points out. "Not just for misplacing the key card, but for thinking I would pretend that your ruse is real for a second time."

Blaise takes a step away from me, before holding the door open. He stands and waits for me to come, crinkling his nose. My feet move when I don't want them to move. They step back, further away from him and closer to Blaise.

"Be reasonable," he says. "I'm not going to force you to do anything you don't want to do."

"And yet, you are trying to make her leave," Graham snaps.

I glare at him, Graham not Blaise. He is going to agitate the man in the doorway.

"I'll talk to you at a later date, okay?" I ask.

Blaise closes the door. He shoves his hand in his pocket. The straight expression he was trying to maintain on his lips, and he falters. The lift doors ding, and a bunch of tourists come pouring out of the lift. They chat, loudly, filling the lobby. Blaise glares, and I turn to Graham.

He abandons the front desk and leads me downstairs. He uses our key cards so we can access the maintenance floor. From there, he pulls us into the break room.

"You can't abandon your post," I point out.

"That guy is fucking creepy," Graham ignores me. "Besides, Gerry is always ten minutes early. I'll explain to him when I come back."

"What?" I ask.

"I'm walking you home," he grabs a coat and a bag, surely the one that is filled with his clothing. "If that guy shows up again, I'm calling 999."

~~~~~

Lol haha. The next three chapters also get pretty groovy. Pretty funky, if you will. I'm hoping to keep pace with them coming out every other day. Hope you enjoy? Any predictions?