@poorbcyâ
       â Ah, fock off! â His Glaswegian drawl has a funny way of becoming more pronounced when heâs agitated, and needless to say, the mountains of cocaine heâs been doing are not helping. James is going to be front page news tomorrow across all of Australia, and he knows itâ the impromptu rendition of âAnarchy in the UK,â the denouncement of the royal family, the flying beer bottle from some drunk bogan that struck him squarely in the back of the head (whoever threw that ought to be a fucking cricketer), itâs all been a blur. Heâs bleeding profusely now, and heâs lightheaded, and for once itâs not because he hasnât eaten. â Thereâs so much fuckinâ blood, fuckâs sakeâ â
       Jenny sighed softly as James swore at her, clearly not particularly bothered by the strong language, given that was already quite used to being on the receiving end of verbal abuse throughout her childhood. No, she wasnât worried about that, she was much more concerned with the copious amount of blood that was currently soaking Jamesâ hair and beginning to run down the back of his neck. She wanted to call an ambulance, but she already knew that there wasnât even the slightest chance that James would go along with that. But what else was she supposed to do? He was bleeding profusely and she didnât know how severe this might be.Â
â Alright, what weâre going to do is get you to lay down with your head in my lap and Iâm going to hold a towel to wound and then weâre going to wait for an ambulance to get here. â Despite the authoritative words, her voice was shaking slightly and she was very unsure if he was going to go along with any of her instructions because despite her job, she did not have all that much clout, especially with James. â Please. I donât want you to get hurt anymore than you already are. â









