This one ventures a little more out of the "Lizzie edits" territory, but I couldn't help speculating about some of that tour of SF - they're just so ridiculously relaxed and comfortable in 83 compared to previous videos, so what happened? Don't know for sure, but here's one version. Oh, and I'm frankly baffled by the timeline of when they filmed 83. This is my best guess.
81-82
She needed a good day after that next week, dealing with Bing's awkward, not-so-subtle questions about Jane as well as Gigi's tearful confessional. Editing both of those videos was a painful process. From a practical standpoint, the cuts were simple, straightforward. Emotionally, it was brutal. She found herself tearing up when Gigi did, and missed Lydia so much it was like a blow to the stomach. After that, spending a day with Darcy couldn't possibly be that hard.
It turned out that their tour of San Francisco was one of the best days of her life.
Gigi was a blast, making silly jokes and dragging Lizzie from one location to another with a manic energy that made her miss Lydia even more. She kept an almost non-stop stream of chatter, probably to overcompensate for the assumption that, at any moment, she might leave Darcy and Lizzie alone to awkward silence.
The thing was, they didn't have any awkward silences. Silences, yes. Gigi did have to take the occasional bathroom break, not to mention every hour or so she would bend over her phone and post pictures on Twitter while Lizzie and Darcy waited and enjoyed the view of whatever landmark they were currently surveying. But those silences didn't feel awkward. They felt companionable. Once she even caught him smiling, just a particle, when Gigi positively crowed with delight and said, "Oh, I know the perfect caption for this!" Their eyes met, she smiled too, and then she thought it was a good thing that Gigi was otherwise occupied.
They weren't always silent. Darcy had a vast knowledge of the city (of course he did) and he would share particularly obscure details to fill in the holes of Gigi's general narration. If Lizzie had a question, he took care to answer it thoughtfully, even if it was something silly or inconsequential.
Then there was one exchange that was anything but inconsequential. Gigi was on her second bathroom break, Lizzie was finishing off a heavenly sample of Ghirardelli chocolate, and Darcy said out of nowhere, "Thank you, by the way."
"What?" she asked around her mouthful of candy, eyebrows raised.
He looked at her soberly. "For what you did for Gigi."
She swallowed, her throat burning from something other than extra-dark chocolate. "Oh. The video? I didn't – I didn't think you'd like that."
"I didn't," he said frankly, "but that's irrelevant. Clearly she needed to speak about it, and if your videos offered the right venue for that, then I am grateful."
"I just sat and listened," she said, trying to shrug it off. His eyes could be just a little too intense sometimes.
"That is what she needed. You're a good listener."
Was her face reddening? She hoped he would just attribute it to sunburn. "Not good enough, if you ask Lydia."
"I was very sorry to see that," he said quietly. "But I'm sure you'll find a way to reconcile."
Why was her heart beating faster than normal? Was it because Darcy, who had practically raised his little sister, had faith in her older-sibling skills? Was it that warm way he was looking at her, or the fact that he had just paid her several compliments?
She didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed when Gigi reappeared and ended their conversation. She only knew she was glad it wasn't something recorded on her videos that she would have to analyze and rewatch and edit.
Before the excursion was even over, Gigi invited her to go out for karaoke the next evening. Lizzie didn't dare ask if her brother was coming along, but then she didn't have to. His grimace was answer enough.
"William actually has an amazing singing voice," Gigi said, tugging his arm playfully, "but you'll never hear it unless you can catch him alone."
Lizzie restrained the urge to giggle uncontrollably at the thought of Darcy prancing across a karaoke stage, then blushed again, for some reason, at the phrase catch him alone.
Her mind refused to settle all day Sunday. She knew she needed to sit down and make a video, but the only topic that mattered was the one she didn't dare touch. She wanted to talk about their tour of the city; she wanted to gush about it and recount every little detail. But she also wanted to keep it private, as if she knew that she would never be able to censor herself, that she would be forced to edit the footage so severely it would be rendered an incoherent, choppy mess.
Before she knew it, it was time to meet Gigi for karaoke and she still had no video. She promised herself she would shoot something afterwards, even just a two or three minute recounting of their evening, but when she got home it was all she could do to change into pajamas before falling into bed.
Another early morning, even worse than the last time. Not a second of footage to work with. She went into Pemberley before seven with a single desperate idea and contacted Gigi when she couldn't screw up the courage to ask Darcy directly.
83
He came, was willing and ready, and surpassed her every expectation. She didn't know if the change had happened during their tour, or more gradually since she first came to his company, but somehow she had come to feel easy and comfortable around him – at least, as comfortable as she could ever be with those intense piercing eyes upon her. She already knew he could make her smile, but when did he gain the ability to make her laugh? Not just a chuckle, either. A gut-busting, eyes-tearing-up kind of guffaw. She was still overcome with laughter as she shut off the camera and chortled out her thanks.
He just pulled off the wig and shrugged, his mouth twitching in his quiet version of pleasure. "I hope you have a good day, Lizzie. Let me know if you need anything else."
She had to scramble to film an intro once she realized the video began rather abruptly with Darcy's appearance, but that was entertaining on its own, since she couldn't resist trolling her viewers just a little. She was in a good mood and it probably showed. So what? No need to censor that.
Then she had to hurry through the editing. Luckily, most of it didn't give her too much trouble. She kept it almost wholly in its original form, just trimming the bit when he left to get his costume. But there was one moment near the beginning that gave her pause. She had gone to shut the door, and on the way she touched his shoulder, just for an instant. It certainly wasn't a calculated move on her part. He was right there, and she was passing by, and somehow her hand ended up on his shoulder and maybe she could still kind of feel the sensation tingling on her fingertips –
But this wasn't about her. It was Darcy. Coming from any other person, it would have looked like a non-reaction; an impassive, unaffected face. But now that she knew him better – flattered herself that she was learning to read his expressions – she could see it was a highly-charged response. He was not comfortable. Apparently he concealed it well; he seemed perfectly at ease throughout most of the video. But her touch had made him stiffen, then blink, then shift ever so slightly. She had missed it, and by the time she sat down again, he was back to normal.
Better to cut it altogether, right? It was – weird. Maybe he was disgusted by her. No, that couldn't be. Maybe he just had a thing about personal space. She probably should have been more considerate about that. But when she moved the cursor to get rid of the shoulder-touch, she couldn't bring herself to remove it entirely. She trimmed out most of his response and considered it a compromise. Though she wasn't entirely sure who she was compromising with.
84
Wednesday came, and with it a shiny new phone, a cheery intro and a visit from Darcy mid-video.
Then she got the call from Charlotte, and nothing else mattered.
She had plenty of time to edit once she got home, but very little emotional wherewithal to deal with it. She fiddled with the footage for a while, fixating on little things like Darcy's hand on her back or her crumpling face as Charlotte's news sank in. On the awful swiftness with which the mood shifted from exhilaration and anticipation to horror and despair. Her hand moved over the keyboard, then fell listlessly to her lap.
Eventually she had to give up and send it to Charlotte.
