parte siete
I seriously considered throwing the phone out the window by the sixth ring. At the seventh the phone was in my hand and poised to be hurled into the highway. At the eighth ring I realized I was already home, stuck the phone in the glove compartment, and walked towards my house. As I reached the door I paused; tears were still sliding slowly down my cheeks and there was no way I could plaster on a fake smile and expect them to believe my lies. I didn't even have the energy to smile anymore. I walked back slowly to my car and retrieved the phone. It was still ringing. I accepted the call and held the phone to my ear. "Sydney! Sydney...god, Sydney...Syd I need to talk to you..." He was out of breath and his tone wasn't the anger I had expected, but instead kind of dismal, sad. "Don't call me again." I whispered, then shut the cell phone off. All of the shit I had said to him before was wrong, wrong and a mistake on my part. And then when I told him that I... Mistake after mistake I've made with him sweep through my head and damnit this is my fault, my mistakes, my consequences. The consequences of getting married. Cute, Vaughn, very cute. Guess what? I am fucking [i]living[/I] this consequence, every day, every hour, every second, and little can you know how it kills me to look into your eyes and remember saying the two words that screwed me into the ground. And no I'm sorry but I can't tell you what's wrong and I can't tell you why I'm crying because why would poor little michael have to feel any guilt about something he did to me but just doesn't remember. Why didn't I wake up first? Why didn't I go back to sleep, so we could face this together? Why and why and why, I can keep questioning myself over and over but it doesn't matter. What's been done is done. I've married and slept with a man who can think of me as nothing more then an agent who he has a crush on. All the while I still have to sit on the table and stare into his eyes and yes, Vaughn, I understand, and yes, Vaughn, I'm your ally and yes you're my fucking guardian angel. Where was my guardian angel in Vegas? Weren't wacthing over me, then, were you? No, instead you were proclaiming your love in a drunken state, enjoying yourself knowing that you wouldn't remember a thing in the morning. Guardian angel my ass.
I turn the phone back on and call Francie. "Sweetie," I can manage through angry tears. "I think I might come home a little late tonight...don't wait up for me. Have a good-" "Don't give me that bull-shit, Sydney! You are in front of the house in your car and I need to talk to you. Now." Shit. "Francie..." "You know that picture frame that guy from work gave you? You know, that innocent, nothing-more-than a friend guy that decided to give you a Christmas gift? Yeah. Well, I was admiring it, you know, looking at the photo of your and your mother. And while I was holding it guess what fell out. [I] What fell out, Sydney?[/I] Please tell me it was not a picture of you getting married! TELL ME IT WASN'T! Tell me you did not get-" "I have to go, Francie..." I whispered into the phone. The tears were now pouring down my face and clinging to the dashboard were my forehead now rested. "SYDNEY!" I heard the phone click and felt myself toss the thing out onto the front grass of my yard. Then I drove away. I didn't really know where I was going, nor did I care, just as long as it was behind Francie, in front of Michael, and as far away from that damn happy couple as I could be. There was no strategy to the madness- impulse was the only thing driving my car and fear was driving my mind to a point on the brink of insanity. Suicide is such a tempting offer. So was that drink. But it's not fair to blame him. It's not his fault I dared him to drink, not his fault that we got married, not his fault he loves me, not his fault I love him more then he knows and it's not his fault for anything because it's never michael Vaughn's fault he's just the agent and god damn how can it be his fucking fault if he doesn't even know what the hell he's getting blamed for? So now it's resting on my shoulders. Wonderful. Michael on one side singing why are you crying in his I love you I hate you expression, the other side hosting Francie asking why I got married and when I got married and who I married and how I got married- Francie I didn't even [i]want[/I] to get married so get the hell off my back! It would be so easy to tell him, so easy to tell Francie, so easy to make this all better again. So easy to go back to normal. Like I've ever been normal. The closest to normal I've ever been was that one morning, that one morning looking at the most perfect thing my life ever gave to me, the one perfect thing which I then went on to twist and mold into my creation until the perfectness had all but disappeared in my own utter sense of mortality. No, things could never be normal.
I parked on the side of the road and got out of the car which I was all but sick of. Everything was beginning to remind me of him and think of him and god damn even the air freshener was beginning to smell like his cologne. I ran my hands through my hair as if my appearance mattered, as if anything mattered. Well, the sanity of my friends was one thing that did which was why what had been done with had to be taken care of. Will answered on the second knock and let me in. I looked at him for a minute before I went inside- I didn't recognize him at first. Finally I went inside and sat down at the table. "Coffee?" He offered. I nodded. I didn't really need anything but michael and forty eight hours of sleep, but since both had been non-existent for awhile I figured that coffee could be a poor substitute for the latter. He made a pot and sat down. "What's up?" I loathed his ability to be happy, even smiling. "I'm going to go away- on vacation, sort of...for about... awhile, I guess. I just need you to tell Francie for me...maybe go spend some time with her. She's going through a pretty hard time..." He watched in amazement as I drank half my cup in one gulp. "Just please...promise you'll make sure she's safe, ok? Promise?" "Yeah, sure, anything, I'll go pack right now...are ok, Syd? Is something wrong?" "Nothing, I just need a break from work." And marriage. I managed a big smile which cracked right after he turned his back to put his mug on the counter. "Be safe, Syd, I'll miss you!" He hugged me as I tried not to start crying. "I'll miss you, too." I smiled again, an almost real smile, but I know if had seen my blank expression and looked into my eyes he would have realized it was impossible to master this feat. I said a weak goodbye and then slowly trudged my out the door- Will was faithful and would go to Francie as soon as he finished packing. He was good that way. I walked down the driveway and looked around, lost, until I remembered my car was to the left- left was which way again? Everything was becoming a blur and my cried-out eyes were blank and expressionless. I wandered around until I spotted my car, then headed down towards it. The sidewalk was deserted except for one jogger and I'm sure the day would have been a beautiful if I could see in anything other than shades of gray. I was halfway to my car when the jogger paused and stopped. He stood there and stared at me, un-moving. Once I realized who it was, I swallowed and began walking towards my car again. He began walking too, and was closer to the car by about ten feet. As soon as I saw his face up close I began crying again, and by the time I reached the car he was already standing by the drivers side door. He looked just about as lost as me. "Sydney..." He muttered. I turned around and walked back towards Will's house, crying even harder. I heard him coming behind me. "Sydney!" Gray quickly flashed to red and the anger which had been on the edge of exploding for some time threatened to spill. I spun around and he stopped walking. My eyes glazed over with fire. "God Damn, Michael, don't you ever listen? Leave me alone means fuck off, not feel free to stalk me!" He remained silent and stayed where he was. I walked towards him and then past him, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me back. "Damnit, Vaughn!" He pulled me right up to him and my anger slowly began to drift away as I was slowly intoxicated by his scent. "You have no right to do this." He challenged. My breathing slowed and I was overwhelmed by how close he was. "You are going to tell me what the hell this is all about! Starting with Vegas, because that always seems to roll the lucky numbers with you." His voice was low and harsh, and as he spoke to me he looked straight into my eyes. Finally I tore my gaze away and brought myself out of hold, then started to walk away until I turned back to him. "Don't follow me." I whispered bitterly. I made it to my car and drove away without looking back.
I seriously considered throwing the phone out the window by the sixth ring. At the seventh the phone was in my hand and poised to be hurled into the highway. At the eighth ring I realized I was already home, stuck the phone in the glove compartment, and walked towards my house. As I reached the door I paused; tears were still sliding slowly down my cheeks and there was no way I could plaster on a fake smile and expect them to believe my lies. I didn't even have the energy to smile anymore. I walked back slowly to my car and retrieved the phone. It was still ringing. I accepted the call and held the phone to my ear. "Sydney! Sydney...god, Sydney...Syd I need to talk to you..." He was out of breath and his tone wasn't the anger I had expected, but instead kind of dismal, sad. "Don't call me again." I whispered, then shut the cell phone off. All of the shit I had said to him before was wrong, wrong and a mistake on my part. And then when I told him that I... Mistake after mistake I've made with him sweep through my head and damnit this is my fault, my mistakes, my consequences. The consequences of getting married. Cute, Vaughn, very cute. Guess what? I am fucking [i]living[/I] this consequence, every day, every hour, every second, and little can you know how it kills me to look into your eyes and remember saying the two words that screwed me into the ground. And no I'm sorry but I can't tell you what's wrong and I can't tell you why I'm crying because why would poor little michael have to feel any guilt about something he did to me but just doesn't remember. Why didn't I wake up first? Why didn't I go back to sleep, so we could face this together? Why and why and why, I can keep questioning myself over and over but it doesn't matter. What's been done is done. I've married and slept with a man who can think of me as nothing more then an agent who he has a crush on. All the while I still have to sit on the table and stare into his eyes and yes, Vaughn, I understand, and yes, Vaughn, I'm your ally and yes you're my fucking guardian angel. Where was my guardian angel in Vegas? Weren't wacthing over me, then, were you? No, instead you were proclaiming your love in a drunken state, enjoying yourself knowing that you wouldn't remember a thing in the morning. Guardian angel my ass.
I turn the phone back on and call Francie. "Sweetie," I can manage through angry tears. "I think I might come home a little late tonight...don't wait up for me. Have a good-" "Don't give me that bull-shit, Sydney! You are in front of the house in your car and I need to talk to you. Now." Shit. "Francie..." "You know that picture frame that guy from work gave you? You know, that innocent, nothing-more-than a friend guy that decided to give you a Christmas gift? Yeah. Well, I was admiring it, you know, looking at the photo of your and your mother. And while I was holding it guess what fell out. [I] What fell out, Sydney?[/I] Please tell me it was not a picture of you getting married! TELL ME IT WASN'T! Tell me you did not get-" "I have to go, Francie..." I whispered into the phone. The tears were now pouring down my face and clinging to the dashboard were my forehead now rested. "SYDNEY!" I heard the phone click and felt myself toss the thing out onto the front grass of my yard. Then I drove away. I didn't really know where I was going, nor did I care, just as long as it was behind Francie, in front of Michael, and as far away from that damn happy couple as I could be. There was no strategy to the madness- impulse was the only thing driving my car and fear was driving my mind to a point on the brink of insanity. Suicide is such a tempting offer. So was that drink. But it's not fair to blame him. It's not his fault I dared him to drink, not his fault that we got married, not his fault he loves me, not his fault I love him more then he knows and it's not his fault for anything because it's never michael Vaughn's fault he's just the agent and god damn how can it be his fucking fault if he doesn't even know what the hell he's getting blamed for? So now it's resting on my shoulders. Wonderful. Michael on one side singing why are you crying in his I love you I hate you expression, the other side hosting Francie asking why I got married and when I got married and who I married and how I got married- Francie I didn't even [i]want[/I] to get married so get the hell off my back! It would be so easy to tell him, so easy to tell Francie, so easy to make this all better again. So easy to go back to normal. Like I've ever been normal. The closest to normal I've ever been was that one morning, that one morning looking at the most perfect thing my life ever gave to me, the one perfect thing which I then went on to twist and mold into my creation until the perfectness had all but disappeared in my own utter sense of mortality. No, things could never be normal.
I parked on the side of the road and got out of the car which I was all but sick of. Everything was beginning to remind me of him and think of him and god damn even the air freshener was beginning to smell like his cologne. I ran my hands through my hair as if my appearance mattered, as if anything mattered. Well, the sanity of my friends was one thing that did which was why what had been done with had to be taken care of. Will answered on the second knock and let me in. I looked at him for a minute before I went inside- I didn't recognize him at first. Finally I went inside and sat down at the table. "Coffee?" He offered. I nodded. I didn't really need anything but michael and forty eight hours of sleep, but since both had been non-existent for awhile I figured that coffee could be a poor substitute for the latter. He made a pot and sat down. "What's up?" I loathed his ability to be happy, even smiling. "I'm going to go away- on vacation, sort of...for about... awhile, I guess. I just need you to tell Francie for me...maybe go spend some time with her. She's going through a pretty hard time..." He watched in amazement as I drank half my cup in one gulp. "Just please...promise you'll make sure she's safe, ok? Promise?" "Yeah, sure, anything, I'll go pack right now...are ok, Syd? Is something wrong?" "Nothing, I just need a break from work." And marriage. I managed a big smile which cracked right after he turned his back to put his mug on the counter. "Be safe, Syd, I'll miss you!" He hugged me as I tried not to start crying. "I'll miss you, too." I smiled again, an almost real smile, but I know if had seen my blank expression and looked into my eyes he would have realized it was impossible to master this feat. I said a weak goodbye and then slowly trudged my out the door- Will was faithful and would go to Francie as soon as he finished packing. He was good that way. I walked down the driveway and looked around, lost, until I remembered my car was to the left- left was which way again? Everything was becoming a blur and my cried-out eyes were blank and expressionless. I wandered around until I spotted my car, then headed down towards it. The sidewalk was deserted except for one jogger and I'm sure the day would have been a beautiful if I could see in anything other than shades of gray. I was halfway to my car when the jogger paused and stopped. He stood there and stared at me, un-moving. Once I realized who it was, I swallowed and began walking towards my car again. He began walking too, and was closer to the car by about ten feet. As soon as I saw his face up close I began crying again, and by the time I reached the car he was already standing by the drivers side door. He looked just about as lost as me. "Sydney..." He muttered. I turned around and walked back towards Will's house, crying even harder. I heard him coming behind me. "Sydney!" Gray quickly flashed to red and the anger which had been on the edge of exploding for some time threatened to spill. I spun around and he stopped walking. My eyes glazed over with fire. "God Damn, Michael, don't you ever listen? Leave me alone means fuck off, not feel free to stalk me!" He remained silent and stayed where he was. I walked towards him and then past him, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me back. "Damnit, Vaughn!" He pulled me right up to him and my anger slowly began to drift away as I was slowly intoxicated by his scent. "You have no right to do this." He challenged. My breathing slowed and I was overwhelmed by how close he was. "You are going to tell me what the hell this is all about! Starting with Vegas, because that always seems to roll the lucky numbers with you." His voice was low and harsh, and as he spoke to me he looked straight into my eyes. Finally I tore my gaze away and brought myself out of hold, then started to walk away until I turned back to him. "Don't follow me." I whispered bitterly. I made it to my car and drove away without looking back.