(no subject)
Characters: Garret
Prompt: Work
Word Count: 162
Rating: PG
Summary: Another day of work for Garret
He lit up another cigarette and let it rest between his lips, inhaling the smoke as he stared at his computer screen. Garret glared at the blank whiteness of the open Word document, willing words to appear. None did, of course. He sighed deeply, letting out a stream of smoke and obscuring his vision momentarily. Fucking writer’s block.
The magazine had told him to write a review on a new club; mostly they wanted him to bash it. And he’d actually gone to the opening, employing some of his own talents to get him in when he’d been refused a press pass. Enjoyment hadn’t been had; he hated large groups of people. Didn’t matter if he’d liked it or not, now he was supposed to write about it and he had no clue how to begin. Growling, Garret stood and strode to the kitchen, where he dragged out a bottle of vodka and a styrafoam box containing leftover takeout. Work could wait.
Prompt: Work
Word Count: 162
Rating: PG
Summary: Another day of work for Garret
He lit up another cigarette and let it rest between his lips, inhaling the smoke as he stared at his computer screen. Garret glared at the blank whiteness of the open Word document, willing words to appear. None did, of course. He sighed deeply, letting out a stream of smoke and obscuring his vision momentarily. Fucking writer’s block.
The magazine had told him to write a review on a new club; mostly they wanted him to bash it. And he’d actually gone to the opening, employing some of his own talents to get him in when he’d been refused a press pass. Enjoyment hadn’t been had; he hated large groups of people. Didn’t matter if he’d liked it or not, now he was supposed to write about it and he had no clue how to begin. Growling, Garret stood and strode to the kitchen, where he dragged out a bottle of vodka and a styrafoam box containing leftover takeout. Work could wait.