Six weeks before I tasted my sister in law's breast milk by mistake; Michael and I were seated at a local pub. Having Michael next to me in a place where they serve alcohol is like spotting a terrorist on the moon—once in a blue moon, if you catch my drift.

“Have a drink, Mike. It’s not everyday you secure 20 grand.” I cheered, patting his shoulder.

Michael tried to hide his pride, “That’s 20 grand before tax, then I’ve gotta pay my accountant and then insurance and…Then yeah, I guess I’ll throw you a bone in the end.”

“See man, all it took was that one job in northcote now the developers want to keep us as regulars. We’ve still got the company, the Ute, the house. Shit man, after a few more of these jobs you’ll probably be able to buy your own house.” I cheered.

Michael looked over his shoulder at a couple bearded bikers sitting at the end of the bar, “Can you keep it down, we don’t need everyone knowing our business.”

“Why not? It’s not like we’re flashing banknotes in the air saying rob me rob me!” I joked, taking a glug on my drink.

“Yeah, but I don’t wanna risk getting stuck up and the Ute stolen.” Michael continued.

“Yeah, yeah.” I replied, sipping on my drink.

“No, I'm serious. The contracts in the back of the Ute we lose the truck we lose everything.” Michael said further.

I finished my third drink, “Why don’t you just get Emily to pick it up?”

“She’s out with her parents in Karaka until later on. That’s the only reason we’re in this damned place.”

“I still don’t see why we don’t print off more than one house key, they’re cheap as chips.” I insisted.

“I haven’t had the time, and Emily’s busy as with Lain. I’ll get round to it though” Michael explained, intertwining his fingers.

I pulled a twenty from my pocket. “While you sit and think about getting a new house key, I’m gonna win the major.”

“Yeah, right. Save your money.” Michael advised, sipping on his coke.

“No, you’ll see. You’ll all see.” I laughed as I headed off into the gambling room.

The bartender promptly cracked open a Steinlager and eventually Michael caved and took his first sip. The rest of the night was history.

The first couple rounds lingered. We chatted a bit about what we’d do with the money; I wanted a PS5, Michael aspired to get enough for a house deposit this time next year.

The rounds that followed became increasingly incoherent. They navigated like rough sea from one wave to the next and after a while I forgot what we were even talking about.

This was a dangerous shame because eventually one of the bikers approached us and grabbed Michael’s keys off of him. Michael tried getting them back but the bearded biker was a hell of a lot stronger.

He belted Michael in the left eye and held them over Michael’s head, and it was then I noticed how monstrously tall and wide framed the man was. The bikers friend in the back just sat back and laughed while this whole ordeal was going down.

So I did the only thing I knew I could do in this situation; I texted our sister Egypt.

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The biker eventually returned to his seat and dangled Michael’s keys at him menacingly. While I sat tight knowing damn well that this would all be resolved soon.

Michael had apparently drunk more than me, as was shown by his clustered maze of empty beer mugs gathering beside his head.

I tapped my foot and tried not to peer over at the thieving biker, but I did anyway to ensure he hadn’t left the joint.

Finally, Egypt arrived outside of the pub on a stolen pushbike and approached Michael and I as we sat defeated.

“Who’s the guy?” she asked, looking around.

“Him.” I slurred, pointing across at the tough biker.

She screwed her face and picked up my lighter that rested on the bar top and strolled over towards him.

The biker began to laugh and comically threw his hands up to protect himself from a slap. But instead, Egypt stomped his foot and socked him square in the nose.

The bikers friend rose to his feet but Egypt picked up a beer mug and threw it square in his face knocking him unconscious and toppling to the floor.

The biker with the busted nose handed Michael’s keys to Egypt and we all made way towards Michael’s Ute. Egypt chucked her newly acquired bike onto the tray of Mikes Ute and off into the night we drove.

In retrospect it would’ve been better if Michael didn’t drive. Because for some stupid reason Michael thought it’d be a good idea to try to pull off some speed demon shit while we were on the motorway. He overtook a Toyota Starlet with no troubles but when it came to rounding the corner; Mike was so sloshed he forgot to turn.

Thankfully none of us were injured. But the car was a write off, and Michael was certain to obtain a DUI.

“You gotta tell the cops you were driving Percy.” Michael slurred in panic.

“Why do I have to do it? You were driving!” I resisted.

“I can’t go to Jail Percy!” he insisted, passing the keys.

“And I can?” I rejected, tossing them back.

After about ten Minutes an ambulance arrived. Michael jumped aboard and off it went. Leaving Egypt and myself at the crime scene.

The cops arrived but I said I had a concussion and couldn’t remember. I can’t remember what Egypt said exactly, she might not have said anything at all. My stomach turned and I began to fear that I would not only be jobless, but also homeless. Not to mention poor little Lain growing up without a Father.

We found our way over to the Hospital that Michael had been transferred to. He was groaning and moaning and holding his head. Suddenly the Cops entered the room wanting to ask Michael a few questions.

He placed his hands by his side, and sat upright.

“Alright, I just need to stretch my legs. I can’t quite remember.” He stated, placing his legs on the floor.

He walked down the hall, through the doors and out the entrance.

He never came back.

Egypt and I made our way back to the apartment. Michaels partner Emily had already begun packing herself a travel bag. Michael was out like a stone under covers.

“Why’s he sleeping at a time like this?” I asked Emily, watching over him.

“Why do you think Percy? He’s hoping he’ll wake up and this was all a dream.” She scoffed as she made her way out the door.

“You’re not as dumb as you look.” I muttered under my breath.

The next morning I walked into Michael's room. He was awake this time, but confused. A solid dark blue welt was forming over his eyelid. I decided not to mention it. What would that serve?

“Wasn’t a bad dream Michael, we’re fucked.” I stated.

“Yeah? But atleast now it’s too late for the cops to test me for alcohol so I won’t get a DUI.”

“You’re not as dumb as you look Michael.”

Michael patted down his pockets, apparently he’d slept in his work clothes. He looked over his shoulder. “Where’s Emily?” He asked me.

“I think you might’ve done it this time bro.” I replied, crossing my arms.

Michael slumped back onto his mattress and rubbed hard into his eyes and then his temples. “Did she say where she was going?”

I raised and dropped a shoulder, “Fuck knows bro, probably back in with her parents.”

“That’s not good.” Mike replied, his eyes wide and full.

“Things’ll probably pan out. Just give it time.” I said to him, followed by a yawn.

“Nah, to hell with that I need to message her.” Michael insisted as he checked his pockets again and threw his duvet into the floor. “Where the fucks my phone?” he asked, palming his face.

“I’ll call you.” I replied, searching my short pockets. I then realised I was also missing my phone. “Hold up.” I said as I wandered to my room.

I checked on my pallet table, by the bean bag, under the bean bag, my bedside cabinet, under my blankets, down the side of my bed, and underneath my bed. I was plum out of luck.

Our last hope was Egypt, who I suspected was asleep on our couch.

“Get up, you fat bitch.” I called out as I made my way down our hall.

But as I rounded the corner all I found was a bare couch, with empty Up&Go containers and empty BlueBird chip bags laying all over the carpet below with Egypt nowhere to be found.

“That bitch has stolen our phones…” I flustered internally.

“That bitch has stolen our phones!” I repeated, standing in Michael’s doorway.

“What do you mean?” asked Michael, wobbling to his feet his face flushed red.

“Egypt. She’s done a quick one.” I expanded, folding my arms.

“Well, shit. Let’s head over to hers then.” Michael replied, chucking on his beaten work boots and stumbling over.