Don't Break The Rules

Chapter 1 - Sleep At Mine

"You need to get your butt up!"

A sudden splash of freezing water immediately woke him from his sleep. His grandmother stood over him with a bucket, and she glared at him before walking towards the door. "You have an interview."

"No I don't—"

"Yes, you do." Before she closed the door, she said, "It's with Morning's."

Morning's was where he previously worked before Connor divorced him. No surprise that Joe sprung from his bed and sprinted after his grandmother, finding her in the kitchen brewing some coffee. Still water dripping from his hair, he asked, "Did you ask them to interview me?"

"Yes," she narrowed her eyes, "I did—"

He frowned, extending his arms out. "Why would you do that?"

"Because the only thing you've been doing now is getting drunk, coming home late and stealing money from my purse, you filth."

"I haven't stolen anything—!"

"Don't you dare lie to me!" She raised her cane in his direction, advancing towards him. "I can be old but I'm not stupid. Ever since Connor broke up with you, you can't stand on your own two feet. As if he had been there your whole life."

That caused Joe's heart to sting again and his arms fell back down to his sides. "I told you not to mention his name anymore."

"Your mother would be ashamed of you. She didn't die for you to become this way."

Joe's panting suddenly relaxed and he stared at his grandmother's glinting eyes before she turned away with a scoff. He had been doing absolutely nothing with his life but never recognized how much it hurt his grandmother. Which was partially why he had lowered his head and started walking back to his room, searching for which clothes he was going to wear for the interview.

It was his grandmother that drove him; she was evidently livid, gritting her teeth and scoffing almost every other second. Even Joe thought she'd reach over and smack him upside the head. It had been a while since he had an interview, let alone wore a suit. His fingers were trembling against his seat as his grandmother glanced towards him disappointingly.

When he reached the building, the courage he had a few seconds earlier vanished, and he sat within the car, cold sweat beginning to moisten his palms.

His grandmother's lip curled before she shoved his shoulder. "Get out! Go get yourself a damn job! I got you the interview, so don't mess it up."

Joe stared at the building, slowly shaking his head. "I can't do it. They're all going to laugh at me—"

"You're not staying in my home if you can't."

His eyes faced her worriedly. "Grandma, where else would I go?"

"I don't care! I rather you be homeless than disgrace our family name any longer. I'm over these immoral behaviours, Joe."

Her eyes were filled with a fury he hadn't witnessed before, and Joe, although stressed, stepped out of the vehicle and it veered off before he could even close the door. He stared at the sign on the building, glanced at either sides of him, and without an inch of hesitation, he reached inside his pocket, lit a cigarette and walked away from the building.

There was no chance he was going to return to work for them. This job had been his entire life at one point and they made him leave without even caring about the situation he was undergoing. He had lost his husband, and his empty apartment was all he returned to on a daily basis. It was courageous words in the beginning, but everyone began acting as if he was supposed to simply overcome this misfortune in a week.

His tongue begged for a drink and immediately headed for the bar with a few bills in his pocket. It would only be enough for one drink, but he needed a few, and when he stepped inside the bar, he sat at the counter and ordered more than he could afford. At one point, he recognized Jamie walk in for his shift and head for the back.

Instantly, he stepped away from the counter and sat at the table, not wanting to succumb anymore embarrassment. A few of the regulars entered hours later, and he greeted them warmly, but the alcohol was exhibiting those emotions. Emotions that Jamie could still see through, and the lonely and saddened eyes of Joe could not fool him.

Joe stayed with the regulars for the rest of the night, but Jamie noticed how he would turn away in such sorrow, his eyes seemed to darken as if this was all to numb sharp pains wandering across his body. His friends soon began leaving, and one of the other bartenders informed Jamie that Joe still needed to pay for his drinks.

When his last friend began walking towards the exit, Joe followed him but was stopped by the other bartender. "You haven't paid yet."

Joe, completely drunk, smiled deliriously and reached inside his dress pants' pockets and turned them inside out. "Which money do you want me to give you, sir?"

His friend, immediately hearing the raucous, stepped out of the bar. The bartender's jaw had clenched and gripped Joe's shoulder. "Then we have to call the cops."

"Call the cops then! I don't care, I don't even have a place to sleep. Rather sleep in jail than have to beg my grandmother to take me back after messing up the interview she got me!" Joe laughed incredulously, wiping the sweat from his forehead and interlacing his fingers behind his back, motioning for them to arrest him.

The bartender furrowed his brow, pointing towards the phone as he shouted, "Jamie, call the cops." When he had no response, he turned to face Jamie. "I said call the cops!"

"I'll...pay his bill."

Both of their eyes turned in shock, and the bartender released his grip from Joe. "What are you doing?"

"It's fine," Jamie assured, his lips in a long grin. "I'll pay his bill."

"No!" Joe intervened angrily, ashamed that a stranger even offered. "Make the cops arrest. At least I'll have a place to sleep rather than the streets."

"Then you can sleep at mine, how about that?"