9

Work Song - Hozie r

T he midday sun beats down on the town's park, casting harsh shadows and highlighting the graffiti scrawled across the benches and playground equipment. The colourful paint clashes with the park's muted tones, a glaring reminder of the vandal's audacity. As Daniels and I approach, a familiar sense of weariness washes over me. Another day, another mess to clean up, but hell, I wouldn't trade this job for anything.

We survey the scene, and it's a damn mess. Graffiti sprawls over everything—benches, slides, you name it. A chaotic mix of colours and shapes, the work of some punk with too much time and no sense. I glance at Daniels, already pulling out his notebook to start documenting. We'll need photos, paint samples, and maybe even a witness or two if we're lucky.

Daniels starts babbling about his weekend escapades, as if we aren't standing in the middle of a vandalised playground. His cheerfulness grates on me, but I let him talk. Sometimes, it's better to let him ramble while we get the job done.

"Man, you should've seen her," he says with a grin. "Best blowjob of my life."

I roll my eyes, unimpressed. "Yeah, I'm sure it was," I reply, my tone dripping with sarcasm. "You know, it truly baffles me that you're older than me, considering the way you carry on."

Daniels laughs, undeterred by my jab. "Age is just a number, Bradley," he says with a wink. "You should try living a little.

"Speaking of living a little, mate, when was the last time you had a good fuck, Brad? Can't be a recluse for the rest of your life, you know."

I raise an eyebrow, irritation bubbling up inside me. "That's none of your business," I snap, my tone icy. "And I'm not a recluse. I just value my privacy."

Well, isn't that the truth.

He chuckles, shaking his head. "Sure, sure. Just remember, life's too short to be alone all the time."

Alone.

Those words hit a nerve, stirring up a mix of frustration and resignation. He's right, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. I glare at him, a familiar annoyance rising.

"Drop it, Daniels," I growl. "We've got work to do."

But that doesn't stop him. "Wait! What about that girl from the flower shop? Anything going on there? You seemed pretty hung up on her the other day."

His words stop me in my tracks, my heart skipping a beat. We're at work; I don't need to be thinking of Amelia right now. I try to play it off, masking my surprise. "Nah, nothing going on there," I reply, my tone clipped and dismissive, hoping Daniels doesn't notice the slight tremor in my voice.

Daniels eyes me for a moment, clearly not convinced by my response. "Uh-huh. No worries, mate," he says, his tone teasing.

As we finish up at the park, satisfied with the evidence we've gathered, Daniels and I head back to the car in silence. The occasional passerby smiles at us, and an elderly couple strolls past, waving cheerfully. I nod in acknowledgement while Daniels drawls, "G'day folks," with a salute and that charming smile of his.

I grunt, climbing into the car. "Let's get this wrapped up," I mutter.

As I sit at my desk, the station buzzes with the boisterous chatter of my colleagues. The boys are in high spirits, swapping weekend stories with loud enthusiasm. I listen, but I don't get involved. Their laughter fills the air, momentarily lifting the sombre mood that hangs over me.

"Oi, Bradley, you coming?" Reynolds calls out, breaking through the noise. He moves over and perches on the edge of my desk, arms crossed, waiting for a response. I didn't catch what he said, so I'm confused.

"Where?" I ask, leaning back in my chair.

Reynolds clarifies, "To the pub for drinks? The Loose Lasso?"

I nod slowly, still feeling a bit hesitant. "I don't know, Reynolds. I might just head home tonight," I reply, my voice quiet amidst the lively chatter around us.

Reynolds raises an eyebrow, a hint of surprise in his expression. " Come on, mate. You've been working hard. A drink won't hurt," he insists, leaning in slightly.

I consider his words, his voice cutting through the background noise of the station. He's right; I have been working hard, and tomorrow is my day off. I could use a break. With a mental shrug, I decide, why the hell not?

A tight smile forms on my lips. "One drink," I say, reluctantly agreeing, my voice barely audible over the lively chatter around us.

Reynolds grins, smacking his thigh in approval. "That's the spirit, mate! We won't keep you out too late."

I nod, acknowledging his words.

Reynolds winks at me before moving off my desk to join the rest of the guys. "Alright, Bradley's in!" he announces, eliciting whistles and cheers from the group.

Later that night, as we clock off from our shifts and make our way out of the station, I can't help but feel a slight sense of relief. It'll be good to unwind with the boys after a long day. Maybe a drink or two will relax me, distract me from things, from Amelia.

Anything to ease the tension that's been building up inside me.