She left me and I didn’t know what to do. After it happened I bought a meat pie, sat down, stared at a wall. I walked back home and searched for a book I could relate to but found nothing. I thought about drinking myself to freedom, but I had no money and wasn’t in the mood.

“Why does this always happen?” I cried to Vail over the phone.

There was a meat company looking for a copywriter and I called them and the guy on the other end of the line asked me what the hell I wanted and I told him that I wanted a bloody job. The guy asked me a bunch of questions and I lied a number of times, and after even more interviews and even more lies I had a job writing marketing material for a meat company. They paid me early, so I used what I made to pay Jude back for everything he’d given me. I sold all the shares I’d bought while with her and paid back half of my credit card. I signed up to the gym. During my lunch break I’d work on my book of short stories, and in the evening I’d run on the treadmill or learn boxing until I felt like passing out. There was some part of me telling me to relax, to drink, to go on a holiday, to focus purely on my writing, to find more women, to masturbate until my penis exploded, but I ignored it. In my car I’d put my speakers on full volume. I didn’t answer my phone and at night time, when I’d finally get home, I’d lie on my bed and try to read a book and after not being able to concentrate I’d stare at the ceiling until I’d fall asleep and wake up again at six to go to work and laugh at my manager’s jokes and make more money.