“Shut up,” I grit through my teeth, but Stewie doesn’t take the hint. He just tilts his nose in the air, crossing his arms over his spindly chest.
“I don’t like your attitude, Serenity. If you can’t take criticism, then you’re bound to fail in life. You’re just going to be a waitress forever, instead of pulling yourself up by your bootstraps.”
What is this, some kind of parental lecture?
“Shut. Up,” I grit through my teeth again. But Stewie ignores my warning, his mouth going like a motor.
“I mean, you can’t do anything right, not even the most simple of tasks. I don’t get how you’ve survived life, much less gotten a job. You can’t even make fucking popcorn! Does Harry’s know of your ineptitude? I’m surprised they haven’t fired your ass yet.”
Alright, that’s it. I slam my fist down on the kitchen counter. Of course, it’s fancy marble, so nothing happens except me injuring myself painfully. But I ignore the dull ache and glare daggers at my boyfriend.
“Well, I’d rather be a waitress than a lazy, fake video game player. You’ve never won anything, Stewie. Not even one of those big stuffed animals they have at the carnival, much less an entire tournament.”
He scowls.
“Fuck you, Serenity. How would you know? Maybe I’ve won some shit, but just never told you because you wouldn’t appreciate the sacrifice and hard work it takes to be in my industry. You know what? You don’t get it, and you’ll never get it. Get the fuck out of my house. We’re done.”
I swipe my arm across the kitchen counter and knock over a salt shaker, which falls to the grown before shattering and spilling everywhere.
“You bitch!” Stewie rages, spittle flying from his mouth. “Clean this up!”
I smile nastily. “You told me to get out, so that’s what I’m going to do. Maybe you can try cleaning up the mess yourself for once, asshole!”
We’re both yelling now, but I don’t care. Turning on my heel, I storm out of the mansion, slamming the door behind me. What did I ever see in that jerk? Stewie thinks he’s all that, but in fact, he’s just a loser teenage boy who lives on his dad’s money. Thank God we’re broken up. Maybe it’ll stick this time. Hell, I’m determined not to get back together with that piece of shit.
Huffing with anger, I realize I’m too pissed to drive. No worries. There’s a bar just a few blocks away, so I walk instead, leaving my car parked in the driveway. The entire way, I continue to steam. God, Stewie is such a fuckface. I’m still so mad about everything he said to me, and I wish I’d physically hit him because he deserves it. It would be unseemly, but at least I would feel better because inflicting physical harm is the only thing that would improve my mood right now. With that, I clench my fists and lower my head before stepping into the darkened bar.
2
Julian
* * *
Goddamn. I’ve heard some pretty intense fights in my day, but my son Stewie and his girlfriend take the cake. To be fair, Stewie and Serenity fight a lot, and it’s often over stupid shit, just like the squabble I overheard tonight about burned popcorn. Yet my heart goes out to Serenity because my son is a dumbass. Why would he get so worked up about such a small matter? Stewie’s a piece of work, that’s for sure.
A deep sigh escapes my chest. Where the hell did I go wrong? I love my son, but I’m not sure how I ended up with such an idiot for offspring. The problem is, I’m all Stewie has. His mother, my wife, died when our son was just a baby, and as a result, I was left to rear the boy on my own. Yet now, Stewie is twenty-two, and a fucking loser. Yeah, I said it. My own flesh and blood is a loser.
The TV downstairs starts to play again, which means my son is going to finish watching whatever movie they started by himself. That stupid asshole isn’t even going to try and fix things with his girlfriend, even though Serenity’s far too good for him.
An image of the curvy girl pops into my mind, and my body hardens automatically. Shit, Serenity’s beautiful with that lush body and deep brown curls. The way her ass shakes when she walks always makes me gulp although of course, I hide my reactions and do nothing. I don’t want to wreck my son’s relationship.
But my mind wanders to the first time Stewie introduced me to Serenity. To be honest, I couldn’t believe my son managed to land someone so gorgeous, given that Stewie doesn’t work out at all. Sure, he has my black hair and piercing blue eyes, but that means very little when you’re all of one hundred and fifty pounds. Meanwhile, Serenity’s a ten with those delicate features and plush pink mouth. She’s so far out of his league it’s embarrassing.