Part 9: Confrontation

I've been pacing back and forth the living room as I tightly embrace the bottle of alcohol with me. A few more drinks and it'll be empty again. I can't seem to remember how many glass I drank since I got home. But at this point in my life where everything about my career seems going downhill, I don't care. 

I could grab a knife with me and try to scare Clayton Jones when he gets to my door. But that would probably be too much. I just can't seem to find a way to let him know how much I despise his existence. 

Ever since that stupid car accident happened, nothing is going well around me anymore. I once thought that maybe working with him would help me hate him less. 

And it did work, for a little while. 

But now the anger just keeps coming back. He has everything with him and I basically have nothing to be proud about. 

This is so stupid. 

I nearly jumped as I hear a loud sound of bell coming from the door. <