[*ATTENTION: GO BACK AND READ THE STORY FROM THE BEGINING- CHANGED AND NEW CHAPTERS- ESPECIALLY THE MISSING SCENE- CHAPTER 5!!!*]

Chapter 6

Roxy was the first to arrive at the waffle house that morning. She had barely made it through the door before she was confronted by Kiffany. The robust woman stood in front of Roxy, one hand placed on her hip and the other holding a pot of coffee. She pursued her lips and raised an eyebrow.

"You know I have been extremely tolerant of your friends, and I put up with a lot of crap. But I've told him before; this is not a hostel and it sure as shit ain't a pub. He can't get wasted and pass out here; It’s a place of business, we serve food here." Kiffany waved the pot of coffee at Roxy for emphasis. “I know he's harmless, but whatever the problem is he has to get it out of his system somewhere else." She finished and walked to the closest table, her demeanour switched instantly.

Roxy watched her momentarily before she directed her attention to their regular booth; her gaze rested on Mason's form slumped into the corner. As she stood at the head of the table she observed the pathetic flaccid form in front of her.

Mason was reclined on one of the booth seats, his head rested against the green laminated table top, mouth slightly ajar. His long legs were cramped up to his chest, in what could be equated to a foetal position. His arms cradled an empty bottle of tequila protectively across his chest.

Roxy scoffed as she kicked out at Mason’s feet, she caused him to lose balance and slip off the seat; it effectively woke him up.

"Wha? Roxy what the fuck?" Mason slurred; his voice laced with slumber. He repositioned himself and reclined back into the corner of the booth, his eyes were heavy and drooped closed again.

"Wake the fuck up Mason; what do you think your doin? We've been over this, you can't sleep here. Why didn't you go home, wallow in pity there?" Roxy paused and observed Mason; she slapped a Post-It in front of him.

He retrieved it wordlessly and studied it.

"So what is this bender in lieu of? Were you celebrating Rube's departure?" she asked as she slid into the opposite seat.

"Rube’s not gone." Mason mumbled as he studied the paper slip in his hand.

"Huh? Mason what the fuck are you on about?" Roxy replied suspiciously.

"He's not gone, not in Madrid..."

"Mexico" Roxy corrected.

"Fucked if I care, he's still around." He directed his eyes to match Roxy's sterling gaze, and held up the post it between two fingers with the details facing out. "This, my dear Roxy, is Rube’s handwriting; I'd know that fucking ETD after forty sodding years with the old wanker... and this location is upper north side; you said that there were other Reapers to look after that area from now on."

Roxy scoffed "Whatever Mason," She dismissed quickly. "So why did you feel the need to write yourself off last night; this isn't part of the ongoing George saga is it?" The seething anger Roxy had felt ebbed slightly; she saw the rueful glean in Mason’s eyes as he shrugged.

"Not ongoing, I know exactly where I stand with her, we're mates. Stupid to think that anything else would happen, we'd never work; we're just friends plain and simple, might not even be that..." He trailed off.

"God Mason, you look and smell like quite undesirable." Daisy announced curtly as she stood at the end of the table, Georgia tailed her closely.

Mason turned his head to address Daisy and caught sight of Georgia, a hurt look flashed momentarily across her face as their eyes met, before she regained her composure and took a seat next to Roxy.

"What was that about Rube?" Daisy asked as she shooed Mason over and slid into the seat next to him, her gaze flashing between he and Georgia.

Mason looked a little shaken; he realised that his earlier comments regarding George were undoubtedly heard by both girls. "Huh? Doesn’t matter just talkin' out my arse my dear."

Daisy shifted her gaze between Mason and Roxy, and then sighed. "What else is new? Now what was this you were saying about a ball on the phone?" Daisy asked Roxy.

"Roxy can I have my post it? I’ve gotta bounce or I'm going to get shit-canned for being late again...Ball? Not the big charity one?" George stood frozen on the spot and eyed Roxy. Delores had woken her that morning in a fretful state over the organisation of the guest list and she had foolishly accepted the unpaid extra work.

"Yeah, I hear you're in charge of the guest list."

"How'd you? What do you want?” She asked cautiously.

"You need to get Mason and Daisy in."

"What about you?" George questioned with concern.

"I'm going, don't worry. I got an invite yesterday, apparently being in two minorities warrants extra special flaunting and care; I'm their black and woman representative." She scoffed.

"Georgia, you don’t have to worry about me either; I'm going with Mark." Daisy smiled.

"Fine, just Mason then" Georgia sighed heavily. She resisted the urge to look at Mason, was he hurting as much as she was? She collected her Post-It and headed out of the restaurant. She had the feeling that today wasn't going to be so great.