I shove my sandwich wrapper in the bin next to my desk and then sit down and sign in. I can hear my boss in the next room. She's on the phone, probably to her drug dealer, but I can't quite tell, as she's drunk, so her words are ridiculously slurred. I don't think it's a good idea to do cocaine at the best of times, but it's definitely not a good idea to snort an entire line in one go whilst being drunk already, and proceed to take about five more shots with it. That's what she does, by the way. At least, that's what she was doing when I left for my lunch break, so she's probably even more high and drunk right now.

I log into the computer, and then check my phone. I have like a billion texts from Patrick, and Honey, too.

Patrick: How's work going?

Patrick: Oh wait, you can't really talk now. Sorry babe!

Honey: Hiya, sweetie! Still up 4 2nite?

Honey: I'll tak ur silence as a yes. Is ur boss being a pain? If so, poor U!

Patrick: Missing you...

I quickly answer them both.

Me: Yeah, still up for tonight.

Honey: Good. Looking 4ward to meeting ur boyfriend!

Oh, shit. Patrick doesn't know we rescheduled Honey coming over to today. She's meeting me after work.

Me: Work's good. My boss is on the phone to her drug dealer. By the way, I forgot to mention that Honey's coming over tonight. I hope you don't mind!

Patrick: Honey?

Me: My friend. (I consider putting "best friend" instead of "friend", but that makes me sound like a high schooler)

Patrick: Oh yeah. No, that's cool.

Me: You sure?

Patrick: Yeah. Now, back to work, naughty Lydia!

Me: Yes, sir.

Patrick: Sir?

Me: Oh shut up.

Patrick: :( So mean.

Me: Bye, babe.

Patrick: Bye!

I smile and put my phone back in my pocket. My boss trips into the room. I ignore her and pretend to be putting price tags on some old band posters.

"I'm juss... Goin' out to meet ssome peepul," she slurs.

"Ok." She gives me what I take to be nod, and then lurches her way to the door. I suppress a giggle and go back to putting prices on things.

By the time Honey arrives, at about ten to four, my boss still hasn't returned, but I don't care. She's probably passed out somewhere.

"Ready to go?" asks Honey, leaning against the desk.

"Yeah, just give me a sec," I say, logging off the computer and signing out with the time apparently being 4:01 pm. I may be leaving work ten minutes early, but my boss doesn't need to know that.

"How are you?" asks Honey.

"I'm good. My boss left like three hours ago, and she still hasn't come back. Oh well."

She laughs. "Not a very caring employee, are you?"

"Hey, in my defense, I'm tired."

Honey laughs again. "Are we going then, or what?"

"Ok, ok, I'm coming," I say. I grab my leather jacket from behind the desk, sling it over my shoulder and then follow her out the door. "I note, with some dismay, you've chosen to bring your car."

"What's wrong with that?" Honey throws open the door to her Mini and I reluctantly get in.

"I don't know if you've noticed, but this isn't exactly the safest car to be in. I kind of want to get home in one piece."

She sighs. "Look, just because the brakes are a little off, and the headlights and windscreen wipers don't work at the same time, it's not a dangerous car."

"Fine. But if Patrick calls my phone in an hour's time, asking where I am, kindly direct him to the nearest morgue."

"Hopefully it won't come to that." She starts the engine and I sink my nails into the soft fake leather of the car seat. Honey's car doesn't have any seat belts, which wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing, except the brakes are shot, and she's not a very good driver, either.

"So, how was work today?" I ask, desperately clinging on for dear life as Honey rounds a corner.

"It was okay. Well, the morning was. But in the afternoon, this old guy came in, and he was supposedly looking for a flat in downtown. He started asking me about it, but he kept leaning across the desk, evidently trying to look down my top, and then he had the cheek to drop a pen and go under the desk for it, and he just so happened to look up my skirt."

"Pervert," I mutter.

"I know, right? Some people are so dumb. So I told my manager about it, and he was all like, "Well, maybe you should wear less revealing clothing." And I was like, "Excuse me?" Do these clothes look revealing to you?"

I look down at her white blouse and her pencil skirt. "No, not really," I say, truthfully. "I've worn worse to work."

"Exactly! So I texted Tommy about it, and he said he'd sort it out."

"That's good." Oh, thank god, we're pulling in next to the house which contains my apartment. I get out the car and open the front door. I'm immediately overwhelmed by the sheer volume of post. "Oh great," I mutter, picking up all the letters that are mine, and then, after second thoughts, I grab all of Patrick's, too.

"That's a lot of post," Honey says.

"The postman hates coming here, so he only delivers like twice a week, and when he does, we get half the week's post at once."

"Hey, is that you, Lyds?" I look up and see Patrick leaning over the banister on his floor.

"Just about!" I yell up, and he laughs. I manage to get a hold on the post, and then drag Honey up the stairs to where Patrick is.

"I missed you," he says, and he kisses me. I hand him all the letters that have his name on.

"I come bearing bills," I say.

"Oh, fantastic. I'll put these right where they belong," he says, and then leans over and literally chucks them inside his flat. "I really can't be arsed with those right now," he continues, kicking the door shut.

"Patrick, this is Honey, my friend. Honey, this is Patrick." Patrick gives her a nervous smile and she shakes his hand.

"Nice to meet you," she says. She's probably picked up on his awkwardness already, but she doesn't say anything.

"How was work?" asks Patrick as we go up the stairs to my apartment.

"Oh, you know. My boss was high and drunk." He laughs.

"Sounds like my kind of job."

"Very funny. And he doesn't get drunk," I add to Honey, who just looks quietly amused.

"Much," he says.

"It's your own grave you're digging, buster," I threaten. Patrick and Honey laugh, and even I have to join in, too. I unlock my door and go inside, and then go to the kitchen area and start making coffee.

"So, what do you do?" asks Patrick. Honey looks confused.

"What?"

"What do you do? For like, a job?"

"Oh! Yeah, I'm an estate agent. Not the most exciting job in the world," she says, blushing.

"Except for the assorted perverts you get along the way," I comment. Patrick gives me a weird look.

"Huh?"

"Oh, I kind of got a weird guy coming in today who tried to look up my skirt," says Honey. He pulls a face.

"Nutter."

"Totally!" Me and Honey say in unison.

"By the way, we seem to have run out of biscuits," I say, passing Honey a cup of coffee. She gives me a grateful smile.

"Yeah, that might've been me," says Patrick, looking sheepish. He looks so darn cute, but I'm not letting him off the hook.

"Bad Patrick! Go and sit on the naughty step!" I say, pointing to the door.

"I'm a grown man, you can't really tell me to go and sit on the naughty step. Plus, there aren't any steps in this apartment."

"Oh shut up. Sit on the metaphorical naughty step, then. I don't care."

"You're the boss," he says, siting down on the edge of the sofa.

"What do you do then?" asks Honey as I sit down next to Patrick.

"I... uh, I don't work. Because of my anxiety."

"It's really that bad?" Honey sounds skeptical. I don't blame her. i was, the first time he told me that. But then I witnessed one of his panic attacks.

"Yeah, kinda. I... I have panic attacks a lot." Patrick looks at the floor, and she instantly senses his unease.

"I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to sound rude..." she starts, but he cuts her off.

"No, it's fine, really."

"I'd try and say that I know what it's like, but I really don't." Patrick laughs.

"No, not a lot of people do. But it's okay. I'm okay. I'm not, like, going to start going all crazy or start panicking right here. I tend to have, uh, triggers."

Honey nods. "Yeah. I get you." She bites her lip, and then says, "Do you, you know...?" She makes a slashing motion on her wrist. Patrick and I understand her immediately.

"I used to." He holds out his wrists for her to see. "Not any more, though. Clean for six months."

"That's good. Whatever it takes to keep clean, too."

"Can we talk about something happier, now?" asks Patrick.

"Oh! Yeah, I'm sorry!" Honey blusters.

"It's ok," he says.

"Yeah, when you meet Patrick you tend to talk about depressing things a lot, without really meaning to," I say.

"Hey!" cries Patrick.

"It's true!"

"You don't have to say it, though!"

"Ok, ok."

"Do you like literature?" asks Patrick. Honey looks confused, so he elaborates. "You know, books, that kinda thing."

"Oh, yeah, it's cool, I guess."

"Have you ever read..." he begins, and then he jumps up. "Ooh, sorry, I'm buzzing." He pulls out his phone and sighs. "It's Pete."

"I thought you weren't talking," I say. He gives me a cute little smile, suddenly all sunshine and rainbows.

"Yeah well, times change." He answers his phone. "Hey Pete... No, I thought you had it... Wait, what?... Isn't it meant to be, like, your most prized possession?... Okay... Now? I'm busy!... Oh, wouldn't you like to know!... Seriously, bro, I'm not telling you... All right... Yeah, I'll open the fucking door. What do you expect me to do, make you wait outside forever?... Do not bring that up now!... Yeah, sure, give me a minute." He hangs up and looks at me. "I'm really sorry, babe, I need to go. Pete left his notebook in my apartment and apparently it can't wait until morning."

"It's ok," I say. "So you're friends again?"

He gives me a cheeky little grin, nods to Honey, and then he's out the door. Honey gives me a look.

"What?" I ask.

"That is so cute! I am, totally shipping you."

"Thanks. But wait, you're not a high school fangirl in disguise, are you?"

"Har har. Very funny. No, I just think he's cute! He's also, well, amazingly normal."

"What were you expecting? A homicidal maniac? Oh no, wait, he actually is. He's also schizophrenic and an insane rapist." I deadpan.

"Well, judging from your history of boyfriends, it could be anything."

"Hilarious. My sides are splitting with laughter."

Honey smiles. "I'm just glad you've found a guy who really, honestly, cares about you."

I stop smiling. "Yeah. Me too."