Short Ones

By Em

09- Somebody That I Used To Know

"But you didn't have to cut me off/ Make out like it never happened and that we were nothing..."

The first week after she left, he made it a point to ignore the remnants of her presence in the apartment; or, the big things, anyway (the clothes hung neatly and by color in the right side of the closet, the Ed Hopper painting in the entryway wall, the vintage record player sitting atop the Blue Ray player in the media cabinet that they went all the way to Santa Monica to find) were easy to ignore -- looking through the mail kept his eyes facing down as he entered the place, and he usually watched the news rather than actually putting in any movies into the player, and it wasn't as if he ever had to look at the right side of the closet for anything. (The small things were quite another matter and would frequently catch him by surprise; sleepy fingers brushing against her toothbrush in the cup on the sink, or stepping on her slippers at the foot of the bed, her robe fluttering everytime he closed the bathroom door or the small, star shaped earings she wore most weekends winking in the overhead light from atop the dresser being just a few examples. He couldn't ignore the little things that were a subtle reminder of the haste with which she left, and maybe that was worse.)

By the second week, he'd given up all pretense, and when the unexpected knock came at the front door, he was sitting on the edge of his (their) bed staring at a midnight blue slip dress hanging in the closet and wondering when the last time he'd seen her wear it was while one of her records played from the living room (some funky sounding blues-contemporary mix with a male vocalist that sounded something like an unemotional Sting). When he opened the door to find her (their) friends on the other side, he was surprisingly unsurprised.

"We're here to pick up her stuff," Victor greeted without preamble.

Richard nodded, unemotionally. "I figured," he replied, taking a step back from the door and looking at each of their faces as they entered. Most of them (except for Victor, and notably Karen) were closed off and neutral with only Kori's seeming disappointed.

Garfield, for one, looked somewhat apologetic, mumbling, "Sorry, man," as he followed the others inside.

They all carried boxes and suitcases.

They carried out their task in relative silence, working in perfect tandem like a well-oiled machine. Karen tackled the bedroom while Kori took the bathroom. Victor packed up the media center and other miscellany while Garfield packed up some items from the kitchen and the hall closet.

Richard watched from a seat on the counter and thought that it was almost as if they'd practiced the whole thing -- the way they would practice fight plans.

After awhile, Kori exited the bathroom with a full box, dropped it off by the door, and went to the bedroom to help Karen.

He almost didn't notice it when the music stopped as Victor carefully put the record back in its sleeve and packed it with the others. Their eyes met across the room, and Victor, finished with his task, righted himself and walked slowly to him.

"We're almost finished here," he said, even though Richard hadn't once seen him check on anyone else's progress. "Do you want to look through the boxes, make sure we didn't grab anything we shouldn't have by mistake?"

Richard was strangely surprised at the question, but eventually, he shook his head. "No," he answered. "It doesn't matter." They were just things, afterall. What did he care if she ended up unpacking a DVD he watched instead of her? (She'd probably toss it if she did, anyway).

"Alright," Victor said after a moment, turning around to walk back toward the living room.

"It didn't have to be this way," Richard said to his back.

Victor stopped, turned around. He looked surprised or shocked or something. "Yeah, it kinda did."

The others had reunited[wc] in the living room by then, each carrying their own burden of boxes and he felt almost like he was facing a firing squad.

"It wasn't anyone's fault," Kori spoke up, taking a step towards him. "She knows that," she assured him, then, taking a look around at the others, amended, "We all do." Seeing that it didn't appear she was going to be getting any back up in this department from the others, she continued. "Sometimes, things just end," she said almost helplessly.

Karen stepped up to her and put a hand on her shoulder, but her expression didn't soften.

"She didn't have to cut me off," Richard said, sounding plaintive even to his own ears. "She even changed her number."

"Did you expect she'd sit around and wait for you to call her?" Karen asked, her tone sharp. "Maybe invite you over to her new place for tea and show you around?"

"No," Richard answered. "I guess not, but she's acting like we're strangers -- worse than strangers -- like we were *nothing*."

"Why does it matter?" Garfield, in one of his strangely perceptive moments, asked.

"She said we would still be friends," Richard offered.

"You're the one that let her go," Karen pointed out. She started to step towards him, finger raised, but Victor stopped her with a hand on her shoulder and she swallowed the rest of her admonishments.

"She needs time, Richard," Kori offered, stepping in front of Karen and Victor. She looked at him, holding her own hands at chest level the way she always did when she was uncomfortable. "Give her some time."

He didn't know what to say to that, so he didn't say anything at all, but his eyes found Victor's and he could see the end in them.

Victor broke contact first, hefting several boxes filled with records and record players and movies. Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked out the door. The others followed, carrying pieces of Raven away with them