The next morning, I rolled over and checked my phone for any messages. Instead, I got the realization that it was nearly noon and I had a blog post scheduled to go out today. Shit. I shouldn't have slept in. Then again, I did go out for pancakes at midnight with Seven. After being so hopped up on maple syrup, I couldn't sleep. Sure. That's what kept you up, MC. Blame it all on the maple syrup and the sugar. Your ass is lying.
Of course I was. I know exactly what kept me up last night. Seven was seeing how far he could push himself without freaking out. Why else would he have agreed to getting pancakes with me? Or the rooftop? Or…Or almost kiss me? I still held a grudge against Saeran for screwing that up. But I'm sure he had a good reason for calling Seven last night. He didn't strike me as the type who would call his brother on a whim. Still, thoughts of what might have been clouded my mind.
I needed to shake that shit off. This blog post needed to go up today. Fortunately, Zen let me take all of the pictures I wanted when I was done. Working on his apartment was an absolute pleasure. Especially when he threw in my day off. It was nice to see him be human. However, that wouldn't make the final blog post. People don't need to see that I had a moment of weakness and spent the afternoon with my client. It'd be so unprofessional.
I added my pictures and clicked the post button. There. One beautiful blog post to reflect a beautiful, minimalistic apartment as done by yours truly. I loved how it turned out and it's easily in my top five favorite project experiences. I'm so glad you let me do it, Zen. I greatly appreciate it.
Ding, ding!
Huh…First comments already? Usually, it took a while before my comment section went off.
Ding, ding!
Ding, ding!
Ding, ding!
My god. Out of absolute nowhere, my emails were flooding in. Who in the hell was spamming me? My post just went up seconds ago! Someone had to be frantically refreshing the page. Look, I know I said I had a new blog post going up today. I'm sorry, but real life got in the way and I slept in. Am I not allowed to be human every now and then?
Once I opened my emails, I quickly realized this wasn't fan mail like I thought it was. In fact, it was quite the opposite end of the spectrum. It's not like I've never dealt with negative comments before. I've had people call my work either born or tacky. They were looking to get a rise out of me, so I didn't give them the satisfaction of a reply. I'm sure these would be no different. However, I never have been so wrong.
They weren't even about my blog post. Who do you think you are to be in Zen's presence like that? Um. Excuse me? What the hell was this shit all about? Why do you get to be in his apartment? Because he hired me, last time I checked. Back off Zen! I was never on him. Where the hell are these coming from? These weren't just negative comments. I was getting full on hate mail. Oh, joy. Just what I needed. I mean, I knew Zen had a little bit of fame, but I didn't think I'd have his fan club coming down on me.
Knock, knock.
Oh, love of God, what now? There's no way they could possibly know where I live…Right? It's not like they're going to riot at my door. Even if they were, I'd be able to hear them. Fortunately, my hallway was quiet. I stood on my toes and checked the peephole, relieved to see a familiar face on the other side, "Hi, Seven. Not that I'm not happy to see you, but can you come back later? I'm kind of in the middle of a PR crisis."
"So I've noticed," Seven came in anyway. Because…Well…It's Seven. He knows he's welcome any time, "Look at you, MC…I'm so proud."
"Wait a second," I gave him a look, "How the hell would you know? I just got the emails from my blog. I haven't said anything public about it. I haven't had the time."
"Hold on…" he stopped dead in his tracks, "Have you not seen…Oh, MC…You sweet, summer child…"
"What the hell are you talking about?" I've been around Seven long enough to know he can go off on sporadic, nonsensical tangents, but this time, he truly had me flabbergasted.
Seven latched himself around my waist, "It'll be alright. Where's your laptop?"
"On my desk," I was still kept in the dark, "Seven, I'm not in the mood. I have to be my own publicist here."
"You're going to need to hire that out," he pulled up some trashy gossip blog, "Because there's more you don't know about."
"What do you…" I glanced over his shoulder, staring through my computer screen at pictures of myself from the back with Zen, "Oh, shit…"
"Oh, shit doesn't even begin to cover it," Seven winced, doing a quick one-eighty, "Look at that. I made a rhyme."
"Bigger fish, Seven," I snapped, "Zen's that famous?!"
"You didn't know?" he wondered, "I thought that was a well-known fact."
"I don't follow the gossip blogs," I sat down before I could pass out.
"On the plus side," Seven pointed out, "At least they're cute pictures. Are these from yesterday?"
"No," I sighed out, sliding down onto my couch, "They're from the other day. I'm boned. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. I'm downright, grabbing my ankles boned."
"And you said you don't have a publicist?"
"No…" I mumbled into a throw pillow.
"Now may be a good time to get one," Seven suggested, taking a seat next to me.
"Gee," I pouted, "Thanks, Seven. Way to point out the obvious."
"I do what I can." At least he's trying to make me feel better. I couldn't fault him for that, "Can I ask you something, MC?"
"What?"
"You and Zen," Seven asked, "You two…Aren't actually a thing like they're saying…Are you?"
"No," I assured him, "That's a hundred percent pure speculation. He and I just hung out that afternoon."
"Then, you should be fine," he figured, "No worries."
"Did you stay here last night?" I sat up, trying not to wallow anymore.
"Can't say that I did," Seven reported, "I went home last night. You were there when I left. You would know."
"That's right," I remembered, "I'm sorry. Today's been a roller coaster already."
"That's ok," he let it go, "You're stressed. I get it. Why do you ask?"
"Are there a shit ton of cameras outside our building?" I crossed my fingers, hoping to all things holy he said no.
"There are a few of them," Seven winced, "Sorry, MC. Maybe you could just stay home today."
"I can't," I groaned, laying my head on his shoulder, "Have you seen the state of my kitchen?"
"Not lately," he shrugged, "How is your kitchen? I don't get their Christmas cards anymore. How are the kids? Off to college by now, I'm sure."
"No," I moved a little closer, "But I think my toaster may be having an affair with my bathtub soon enough."
"We can't have that," Seven stopped me, "Are you trying to tell me you need to go grocery shopping?"
"I'm almost out of coffee. And I really can't have that."
"In that case," he jumped up from the couch, "I have an idea!"
"I'm all ears, Seven," I held my face in my hands, "Because I can't exactly go out there when they know what my face looks like."
"Hold on!"
All of a sudden, I felt something warm on my back. It smelled like cinnamon. I'm not sure why, but I kind of loved it. When I lifted my head back up again, I could hardly see with the hood over my eyes, "What the hell…?"
"There!" Seven chirped, standing in the middle of my living room in just a t-shirt, "You look so cute, MC!"
"I appreciate the sentiment, Seven," I pushed my arms through the sleeves of his hoody, not exactly wanting to pull them back out. My god, this thing was comfortable. It's like wearing a hug.
"Well?" he jabbed, "If you keep the hood up, they'll just think you're me! There! Problem solved! Score one for Seven! Bring in the dancing lobsters!"
"What about you?" I wondered, seriously considering keeping this hoody.
"What about me?" Seven brushed me off, "You need it more than I do at this point. And now, you can go grocery shopping."
"Thank you," I threw my arms around him, "Today has been an absolute shit storm since I updated my blog this morning. You really did save the day here, Seven."
"You're welcome," he pulled me in closer, "Tell you what. Because I've been your constant source of moral support, why don't I go shopping with you?"
"Don't you have a job to finish?" I pointed out, "I don't remember us getting more pancakes."
"That can wait," Seven assured, putting an arm around me, "Besides, I'm low on snack foods for the office anyway. I could stand to get a few groceries myself."
"Seriously, Seven," I buried my face in his ribs, "Thank you."
"No problem!" he sang out, "Let's go!"
"Ok." I had a reinvigorated lust for life. Maybe this isn't going to stay the shitshow it is.
Ring, ring!
Before I had the chance to answer my phone, Seven got to it first, and put it on speakerphone, "Mmmyello? MC's phone, this is her publicist speaking."
"What the hell…?" the voice on the other end wasn't expecting my new publicist by the sounds of it, "Seven? What are you doing answering MC's phone?"
"Zen!" Seven beamed, "It's so nice to hear from you!"
"Let me talk to MC," Zen demanded.
"I'm here, Zen," I assured, holding back a giggle. Seven was a dork and I adored him for it, "What's up?"
"I'm just checking in," he winced, "Have you opened up the internet today?"
"Unfortunately," I sighed out, "I saw."
"I'm so sorry," Zen gushed, "I didn't realize they were going to drag you like that. That wasn't my intentions at all. I hope you know that."
"I do," I nodded, "Thank you, Zen. I'm ok. I was just about to go out."
"Stay there," he insisted, "I'll go with you."
"So they can speculate more shit about us?" I stopped him, "Thank you, but I'm good."
"She's got me!" Seven chimed, "We were just about to go grocery shopping."
"Seriously?" Zen wondered, "I mean, you make a good point, MC, but really? You're getting Seven out of the house?"
"Zen!" Seven whined, "Hurtful!"
"Zen," I asked, "Please. Apologize. I'm the one that has to deal with him today and I've already had a day."
"I'm. Sorry. Seven."
"Thank you," I sighed out, "But really, Zen. I'll be alright. Seven can keep an eye on things just as well as anyone else."
"Be careful, MC," he begged, "Please."
"I will," I promised, "I have to go, Zen."
"Until later then."
Click.
"I think he likes you," Seven teased, "Maybe the tabloids are right."
"No," I shook my head, "We're just friends. Nothing more. Nothing less."
"Sure," he hummed, "Do you guys already have names for the dogs you're going to adopt together?"
"I'm not interested in Zen, Seven!" I giggled, shaking my head at this moron, "That's not going to happen. Come on. Let's go."
"Yes, ma'am!"
And just like that, Seven and I snuck out of our apartment building like the two of us were on a covert operation. Honestly, we were just going to get groceries. Yet, three camera crews were sitting outside, posting for the mysterious girl they saw hanging around Zen. Little did they know, she was me. Fortunately, Seven's hood covered most of my face, so they didn't even look twice.
"This sucks," I groaned, "I just wanted to spend some time with a friend and now, my apartment building is under surveillance."
"I'm sorry, MC," Seven took my hand, "Hey…How about instead of us actually getting groceries, we score a bunch of junk food and binge horrible movies?"
"Actually," I admitted, in serious need of an escape, "That sounds like a hell of a plan. I could do that."
"Awesome!" he skipped ahead, "And just like that, 707 comes in to save the day, yet again!"
Yes, he does. More than he realizes. We managed to get past the camera crews and headed straight for the grocery store. I was in that kind of a mood where eating my feelings seemed almost appropriate. Not that I ever really cared about my weight anyway. I was an aesthetic design blogger, not a beauty blogger. If I gained weight, I gained weight. If I lost weight, I lost weight. At the end of the day, I knew I was ok just the way I was. And I was ready to hit that snack aisle like a ton of bricks.
Seven and I made the mistake of getting a cart instead of a basket like two respectable adults who know what moderation is would do. And dammit, if that cart wasn't heaped over by the time we checked out, we did something wrong. Any kind of snack imaginable on the spectrum of sweet and salty ended up in our cart. Was it the healthiest thing to do? Oh, hell no. That's why we were doing it. Before we could walk out, though, we needed to make a trip down the freezer aisle. That's where the pizza rolls lived.
Crash!
Dammit. Just what I need. It's not bad enough I got Zen's fan club and paparazzi on my ass, but let's throw in a cart crash, too, "I'm so sorry…"
"It's alright." I knew that voice. It left me with a slightly uneasy feeling in my stomach. Especially after the last time we saw each other, "MC?"
"Trevor…" I gasped, "Hi."
"Hey," he smiled, "It's good to see you. Haven't since the Googleplex event."
"Yeah," I bit my lip, "I've been keeping busy since then."
"So I've heard," Trevor nodded, "I heard about you and Zen."
"That?" I laughed uncomfortably, sending up the radar on the guy with the five-pound bag of pizza rolls, "That's not what they say it is. I'm not the mysterious new woman in his life. He's just a friend."
"Really?" he went on, digging deeper when I'd really rather he didn't, "Because you two looked awfully chummy in those pictures."
"And that's why she's in my jacket," Seven stepped in, throwing that bag of pizza rolls in our cart. Along with a bag of dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets. Why was I not surprised?
"Oh," Trevor looked him over, "Really, MC? Isn't this the guy from the Googleplex event?"
"Yeah, MC," Seven repeated with the same sense of disdain, "Isn't this the guy from the Googleplex event?"
"Yes, on both accounts," I confirmed, hoping the Googleplex event didn't repeat itself.
"Really?" Trevor scoffed, "You're still hanging around him?"
"What's that supposed to mean?" I jumped on the defensive before Seven could.
"If you asked me," he shrugged, "You'd probably be better off with Zen."
"Excuse me?" I shot him a glare, "Who are you to say who I should and shouldn't be with?"
"I'm just saying, MC…"
"Maybe it's over there," I pointed behind him, "Or maybe a few aisles over…"
"What?" Trevor asked, looking all around him.
"Where I asked you about my dating life!" I growled.
"Ooh," Seven backed off, "That one stung. That's my girl."
"What?" Trevor played the victim, "I'm not allowed to have an opinion now?"
"Not when it's something that doesn't involve you!" I rolled my eyes, my temper getting the better of me.
"I'm just looking out for you, MC…"
"Come on, Seven," I took his hand, making sure Trevor saw. I don't know what got into him that turned Trevor into such a dick, but he used to be so sweet. Maybe now, he's just starting to show his true colors, "Before I punch someone. And it wouldn't be you."
"Yes, ma'am," Seven took me away from that mess. Bless him, "Hey, MC?"
"What?" I snapped. But in the next breath, I got myself to calm down a little, "I'm sorry, Seven. I'm just…I'm a little heated, you know? Where the hell did he get off thinking he could pull that shit?"
"Hey," he put an arm around me, "It's over. And thank you…For standing up for me. Not many people do that."
"I owed you," I laid my head on his chest while simultaneously feeling my own heart shatter to pieces, "You took care of me today. I might as well return the favor."
"How about this?" Seven suggested, "We'll go to my place. I got an extensive movie library and killer surround sound. And we can binge eat and watch garbage until neither one of us can see straight."
"Ok," I smiled again.
He knows, doesn't he? He has to. If he doesn't, then maybe it's time I tell him. I know Saeran said he gets skittish when it comes to dealing with his feelings, but maybe it's time we deal with them together.
