So…there's pretty little happening in this oneshot, but I felt Part 2 needed a response of some sort. If future episodes are decent, I may continue this, but…eh. We'll see. I generally don't like writing multi-chapter fics, as I'm pretty bad at keeping at them and actually, ya know COMPLETING them, but hey you never know. Enjoy!
Somehow, when Eli had envisioned "getting over Clare" (as Imogen called it) he had no idea that she meant by doing…this.
When Imogen walked out of the local thrift shop wearing an ensemble that was not strictly her style, Eli almost laughed. Almost. She looked ridiculous. No wonder she didn't dress in floral skirts and wear large cross necklaces daily. But then he got it. She was Clare. Or pretending to be her.
He rolled his eyes. "This is so stupid."
Probably the most honest reaction he'd given to any situation lately. In school he tried to hold it back, to bite his tongue, at least occasionally. With Imogen, it appeared as though blunt honesty was welcome. Everything laid out, plain and simple.
"Just pretend I'm Clare."
Right. Because looking kinda like Clare was so enough. When were girls going to understand that guys just didn't pay that much attention to clothes? It didn't matter that she looked like Clare- she didn't have Clare's eyes or her shy smile. Eli tried to make Imogen's brown turn to Clare's blue in his mind. It didn't work.
"You can't be serious."
She is serious, a voice, a thought really, rose up inside him. She's been serious about you for a long time.
"Come on! You have so much you need to get off your chest!" Imogen rambled on and on about how Eli and Clare's relationship had been an "emotional rollercoaster" and how Clare was "getting away with it." Eli only half listened as he reeled at his new development. Where was this voice coming from? And since when had he developed a conscience?
Finally he snapped out of his daze, wishing all this would just be done already. "Okay, if we do this, can you let it go?"
Imogen smiled and began the act. "I'm Clare Edwards, I'm so smart." Her voice was sickeningly sweet. "No one will ever understand you like I do Eli," she finished with false sincerity.
"Okay that's enough." She's going too far, his conscience spoke again. She's pushing you around and she knows it. Don't let her do this.
She kept going though. "I never really loved you. I was only playing you because I'd knew you'd let me get away with it and look, I was right."
This struck a chord, because he had thought that Clare did love him, but the breakup revealed something different. She wouldn't be with him.
"I did everything to make you happy!" He exploded, and Imogen nearly jumped, startled by his sudden fury. "I'm still in love with you and I hate myself for it." He broke a little towards the end, because finally, this was the truth he was speaking and confronting. He was in love with her, still. Did Clare ever love him? That would need a lot of thinking to sort out, but at the end of it all, maybe he could finally move on…
"And I hate you, Eli, I always have."
No, she's wrong, his conscience interrupted. Clare could never hate you!
But Eli was caught in the illusion now. How could Clare say that to him? "Don't say that…you don't mean it." Please don't mean it, he inwardly begged.
"I do. I never loved you. You're a loser."
Clare would never say that! His conscience was screaming now inside him. This girl doesn't even know Clare or YOU for that matter! How can she say things on Clare's behalf? Stop falling for this…this pre-meditated plan of hers!
The real Eli, the one on the outside, was long gone. As he spoke to "Clare", his conscience spoke to Imogen simultaneously. Both were enraged out of their minds. "And you…are a manipulative witch! You used me and you tossed me away and I hate you, I hate you, I HATE YOU!"
…Imogen, his conscience hissed in finish to his outburst. Eli shoved the thought down. He was talking about Clare, wasn't he?
There was a beat of silence, and then her smile broke through. She put on her glasses, and she was Imogen again. Eli couldn't help but be surprised; his spirits fell, just a little. He had been caught up in the illusion. He thought Imogen was Clare…he's been fooled. By a bad, thrift store provided copy no less. His conscience shook its head at him, disappointed.
"Excellent! Now go use that emotion and write yourself a play."
The play! Right. The entire reason for going through this ridiculous exercise. He had to, he reminded himself. He had to do this in order to write the school play. Everyone was counting on him, and he wouldn't let them down.
…
Later, when he walked away from Clare's interview, Imogen by his side, he felt a weight lift off his shoulders. It was Clare baggage, and he was finally free of it. You're better off without her, he thought over and over, as he truly walked away from Clare for the first time.
His conscience spoke for the last time, quietly, before it shut up for good, becoming dormant inside him.
And just who are you trying to convince of that?