"Hey, Bert, what's up? I've heard that you've joined that book club, the one that meets in the uni library.".
Bertrand replied to his friend, as they both walked through the busy streets of the city, "Yeah, I did that…I thought it would be interesting…I mean, yeah, it sounded interesting when Pamela told me about it…so, you know, it doesn't hurt to try. I mean…I don't have much to do anyways, so I just thought…yeah".
His friend, Jonathan, nodded his head at Bertrand's reply then added, after a brief moment of silence, "That's cool…good for you, dude.".
Jonathan continued speaking, seeing how his friend had no intention of adding any words to it, "Yep…so, want to get a beer sometimes? I have more free time lately and it's been a while since I've drank some decent stuff that isn't supermarket crap…".
His friend thought about it for a second, the silence between them growing thicker as the time passed; then, after a few moments Bertrand replied, "Well…it would be nice…but, I mean, I don't have much time, you know? I'm busy with this and that…working part time at that restaurant, studying…doing other things…I would love to go, but I just can't, sorry man.".
His friend smiled, then replied to him, as they both finally reached their apartment complex, "Alright dude, then I'll see you another time.".
Bertrand walked into his small apartment; he had rented it when moving into the city; it had been the cheapest one he had found. If he had to be honest with himself, it wasn't the most comfortable place he had stayed in, it had its issues: the humidity was terrible and the walls were painted in some cheap paint that was of a dull grey colour. But he couldn't complain, it was just what he could afford.
He put his jacket on top of his bed, then he sat down on an old wooden chair at its feet; the wood creaked softly under his weight; he took out his phone and checked if there were any messages or important notifications.
Two emails had arrived, but they were just ads, nothing too important, so he immediately binned them; then a message arrived, he opened it, it was from Pamela.
She was informing him that the weekly book club's meeting had been cancelled and that she had received the information directly from the club's group chat.
The message was as simple as that with no further explanation.
Bertrand didn't complain, he didn't react in a grand way; he wasn't part of the group chat, but it didn't matter, did it? If he had to be informed of something related to it…Pamela could just tell him, right?
He sighed, leaned back on the chair and placed his phone aside on the small wooden desk that he would normally use to study, but now just occupied space and collected dust.
He sat there for some minutes and did not move at all, his eyes were fixated on the bed.
Then, he turned them to the broken alarm clock on his nightstand; it was almost a half past three in the afternoon.
He wasn't in a hurry, he knew he didn't have anything important to do; he didn't have anyone to go out with, any appointment; nothing at all. No work, nowhere to be, except for his own apartment. A rare luxury: a moment-no, a day of nothing.