THE OBLIVIOUS MODE
By Yih

Chapter 5

Sleep was not for the uncertain mind. Resolution was needed. I was not the type that could let sleep take me when matters were unresolved. It bothered me, and I bothered Logan. His dark rimmed eyes were staring in mix ambience between the window and me. His slouchy stance said everything. A Huntzberger did not slouch; a Huntzberger stood straight and tall.

We had discussed what had happened at Marty's apartment through the wee hours of the morning and still hadn't come up with anything. It was after sunrise already and Logan needed to start heading out to work. How he was going to make it through the day, I didn't know. I almost felt bad. I had done this to him, but I needed him and he was there for me like always.

"I need some caffeine," he announced, getting up from where he had been sitting on the lounge chair. "I think you need some too."

Usually, I would be annoyed that someone would assume what I needed and when I needed it. Logan was the exception. He had always been the exception. It had only grown more pronounced after my parents had died. He had been my rock. If he hadn't

been there, what would have happened to me?

Right now, I was going to be seriously drained unless I got enough caffeine pumped into my system. I couldn't afford to miss a day. My mobile had vibrated a few times at Marty's. I prayed that there was a job for me and something that wasn't too unpleasant. Whenever there was work, I had to take it. Who knew when someone would offer again?

Unsteady work was the bane of my existence, well the monetary bane of my existence. The true blight in my life was whether or not I could finish a manuscript that wasn't all over the place. Then there was the decency factor to consider, another issue that was going to crush my ambition of getting into the world of the published. Stacked up against all that, how could I possibly succeed?

And then there was Marty…

The whining sound of the coffee grinder reminded me of the salvation that was coming. There was no way I was going to make it through the day without a double dose of the strongest, blackest coffee Logan could make. When he held it out to me, I grasped for it like I was dying of thirst.

"Slow down," I was guzzling fast, "you'll choke." I did. "Silly girl," he clucked like a mother hen, "you never listen to me when you should." I listened to him more times than I can even begin to count in a single day. I didn't even want to think about the number in a week. Sheer atrocity.

"More," I pleaded hoarsely. "Need more."

He poured more. "You're going to be wired."

I downed the second serving. It was the second shot that got my brain functioning again. It had been over an hour since I had been able to utter words that made any sense whatsoever. "So are you," I retorted, gesturing to the second cup that he was working diligently on. "You haven't got my tolerance."

He rolled his eyes. Instead of arguing on a pointless point, he switched gears with the fine handiwork of a master mechanic. "We still need to resolve the Marty issue."

It wasn't really a Marty issue. It was just easier to refer to it as such. To be honest, it was more of an issue of me dealing with the scary impact of love. Was I ready for the next step? Or more importantly, was I ready to love someone that could end up hurting me in the end?

"We talked all night and we've reached no resolution. We can't get this matter tidily put up in the hour or so that we need to start getting on with our working day." What a waste the night had been. "We have to shower, get dress, and you have to get to the office. I need to check my messages and pray there's a nice job for me."

"We were getting there. We'll talk at lunch," he insisted. "Stop by my office. We need to have this worked out before you see Marty again, and you will see him tonight. He won't let this matter rest. He has not the patience for that."

"Like you," I mused.

"Like me," he agreed.

-

The morning was spent twiddling my thumbs and ignoring Marty. I could not call him back. Not yet, not when I didn't have a clue what to say or how to say it. It was easier focusing on work. Except it turned out there was no work. The vibrated messages had turned out to be some stupid advertisements for stupid telemarketers that insisted on wasting my precious minutes with their stupid prattle. There was nothing to do except to wait for lunch and the inevitable talk I would have with Logan.

What more could be said on the subject that hadn't been said before?

Nothing, I thought. Logan was going to enjoy proving me wrong. I dreaded what he was going to say. Parts of me doubted that he would encourage me to hurt my heart again. He didn't like Marty. Marty didn't like him. But Logan loved me, loves me, and I liked Marty. He would do what was right.

Your fear is superficial, Logan had said last night. Perhaps and perhaps not.

Lunching with Logan was going to be quite the event.

"You're late," he stated as I breezed into his posh office carrying takeout from the Lucky Dragon restaurant that was on the way from penthouse to Huntzberger Tower. "Chinese again?"

"So?" I retorted. "It's good stuff." I dug out the cute takeout boxes and shoved it toward him with chopsticks and condiments. "Think of how much oil is in the eggrolls and shrimp balls and noodles!"

"You did get some food stuff that isn't fried, didn't you?"

"Nope."

He rolled his eyes and took the carton and opened it. He wrinkled his nose as he saw the greasy fast food. "I don't see why you couldn't have just gotten me a salad at the bistro that's across the street."

"That's too healthy."

He raised an eyebrow. "That's a bad thing?"

"You're eating grass."

"I happen to like eating grass."

I glared. "Some unhealthy fast food isn't going to kill you."

"Not now, but it will later," he predicted with severe solemnity. Gingerly he took some chopsticks. He held the twin sticks with effortless grace. I had always wondered if his etiquette lessons on eating had included chopstick usage or if he was naturally this gifted.

"Would you like some shrimp balls?" I offered my carton. "It's the sweet and sour sauce variety that you like." He nodded. I dumped a ball into his carton and took an eggroll out of his. "Isn't this good?"

"Hmmm…" that was Logan speak for an ecstatic yes, "would you like to talk about the Marty issue?"

The initial chitchat had been a vain hope that he would forget about the Marty issue. I wanted to not think about it, but I knew that even if I wanted everything to go back to being the same--- they wouldn't. They couldn't. I had hoped the fried food would have been a distraction, but Logan was all business as usual.

"Not really," I mumbled.

His eyes peered into mine. "You need to."

I sighed. "I know."

"Your relationship is moving to the next stage."

"I just want things to stay the same."

"Nothing is ever in stasis, Rory."

I stuffed my mouth.

"You can't ignore it."

I took a gulp of hot tea.

"He loves you."

I choked.

"Are you okay?"

I gasped and nodded.

"What are you going to do about Marty?"

I breathed slowly. "What do you think I should do?"

"Dump him." I blinked. "I don't like him." I rolled my eyes and he smirked. "I'm serious."

"You're jealous."

"I am," he admitted freely, not looking the least bit abashed. "I'm not good at sharing." He shrugged. "I hated when others touch my stuff."

"I touch your stuff," I pointed out.

He gave me a look that said everything. Like he was with me, I was his exception.

"Seriously," I pleaded, "what should I do?"

"What do you want to do?"

"I don't know!" I exclaimed. "If I knew, do you think I'd be so confused?"

"I think if you really didn't want Marty, you'd know. I think you want him and that you're afraid of commitment or some bullshit reason like that, which is why you're stuck in this no man's land."

"I'm a woman."

"No woman's land then, Miss English."

"I'm not afraid of commitment," I stated carefully. "If I was, I wouldn't have

dated Marty in the first place."

"You're scared of something and that's making you indecisive. When you're uncertain, you get all confused." His logic rang a bell. Logan knew me too well. "I've been thinking through the morning, and I think I know what you're really afraid of."

"What?" I asked challengingly. "What am I afraid of?"

"I was wrong earlier, saying that your fear was superficial." His eyes seared mine. "It's not shallow at all. You're afraid of loving someone and losing them."

There was nothing in my mouth. I didn't choke, but I did blink crazily. Then I

started shaking my head most fiercely, trying to deny what was undeniable. I bit my lip. Was Logan right?

"Aren't you supposed to be the risk taker?"

"I'll bungee jump."

"You'll risk physical injury, but not emotional harm?"

To put it in a nutshell… "Yup."

"Rory," he sighed most extravagantly even for a Huntzberger, "you can't even make a business profit without taking a risk, and I would say finding love is much harder than making money."

"And you are such a risk taker."

"If need be."

"Which is?"

"When needed."

I glared with a noodle filled mouth and then swallowed. "Like never. You aren't

even dating anyone! So where is the risk you're putting your heart in?"

"Don't change the subject," he lectured with the command of someone who was

never disobeyed. "We're talking about you and Marty, not my love life." He tilted my chin up 'til my eyes met his. "I think, Rory, you could love him. The question is if you'll let yourself be vulnerable as you'll need to be to love him?"

My eyes drifted downward. I wasn't ready. I wasn't ready to face Logan's question. I wasn't ready to have someone loving me like that. I definitely wasn't ready to love anyone. I think most girls would have jumped at the chance of having someone like Marty admitting his love. He was very nearly perfect. Tall, good-looking, rich voice, sensitive and caring with the cooking skills envied by women that didn't know one of end of the kitchen from the other and the only imperfection that I saw was his tendency to be demanding.

But I was used to demanding. Logan was demanding, and Marty was on par with Logan. It was something I could live with. Live with… was I really thinking in that direction? I wrung my fingers. I don't know. What did I know? Nothing. I was a blank slate. I knew nothing. Absolutely nothing.

"Look at me Rory."

I lifted my eyes.

"Do you like Marty?"

"Yes," I whispered.

"Do you want to be with him?"

I nodded.

"Then why did you run away last night?"

"Because I was scared."

"Of what?"

He was digging deep intentionally. "Love."

"Is love such a scary thing?"

It sounded absurd when put to question. What a thing to be afraid of, love. It was

not a normal fear like a serial killer or biological warfare or AIDs, all of which involved dying. Death was a typical fear, and love? Love was not. But I had never been typical and I was afraid of love like others were afraid of death.

"Are you scared of love?"

I blinked. It was a struggle to answer: "Yes."

His eyes bore into mine. "Why?"

"Because."

"Because?"

I broke the stare. "I'm afraid to get hurt."

"That's an understandable fear." I stared at his fingertips. "It's never easy when a relationship starts changing." He was speaking from experience, I knew. "As hard as this is for you, you have to know that it's harder on him."

"You don't like Marty."

"But I know how he feels right now." I scrutinized my own un-manicured nails vs. Logan's. "You've got to go back to talk to him. I bet he's called, hasn't he? No, I know he's called. If he calls 7 times just to tell you when he's coming back, then he's called already." I picked at some dried skin. "Have you called him back?"

"No."

"Why not?" he demanded.

"I don't know what to say."

"You can't keep ignoring him." I nibbled my nails. "Stop that, Rory. That's

disgusting." I stopped. "You have to talk to him today. Wait, better make that now. After lunch, you'll talk to him. Tell him that you're scared, and I bet he is too. I don't think you're going to get any more resolved on this until you've talked to him."

I trembled. "Do I have to?"

"Rory." His tone demanded my eyes locked onto his. "You do."

And so I did.

TBC…

A/N: Thanks for reading, and all my lovely reviewers thank you so much! You guys are what keep me going. Does anyone want me to continue my other fic, "Somebody" or would you rather me just concentrate on TOM?