Dennis couldn't regain his excitement for Chardee Macdennis. Things had soured beyond his projected worse case scenarios. Dennis felt different about Mac, about himself and about how he felt about himself, for how he felt about Mac. It felt like desperation.
Regardless of everything else, he knew he wanted Mac more than anything else. Still, Dennis was a realist; he couldn't say all the things he didn't want to feel, even if the weight on his chest was unbearable. Just when he was ready for it all to be over, everything came to a gnarly head.
For Mac's turn, he had pulled the worst card Intervention. Dennis consulted the clock. If Mac succeeded, it would be game point.
Even with this knowledge, he didn't want to break Mac, not truly. He quickly tried to come up with a simple argument that would trigger his rage issues. Breaking with anger was better than breaking with hurt; Dennis was so sick of hurting Mac.
He decided to target the absurdity behind Mac's Project Badass. Dennis figured Dee would go after Mac's gruff and cold mother. Either way seemed a safe bet, so he decided to go last.
Dennis was completely blindsided when Dee ripped at Mac for his pathetic clinginess. Nothing in Mac's expression shook, save for the solid solemnity that overcame his chocolate brown eyes as he looked directly at Dennis.
The pain he felt watching Mac was excruciating; like the air was being ripped from his lungs while they were slowly crushed in a vise grip. For the end of her roast (as Dee had turned it into) she briefly mocked Mac's obsession with his roommate.
When the floor was passed to Dennis, he nearly drowned in the suffocating silence. Finally speaking, about 3 seconds in his voice cracked under the discomfort of the tense tone.
Mac had already withstood the worst unpleasantries and even if it had not been at the hands of Dennis, he felt implicated with the role he had played. It had always been easy to taunt Mac, but now Dennis' bluff had been called and everyone followed his example as of late. It was exactly what Mac had complained about.
The Golden Geese unsuccessfully finished their character assassinations and Mac was given a second to acknowledge what had been said. "I usually hate this game, but I actually think this is the most important one we've ever played." The buzzer went off and Mac forced a grin. "Because we won, you dirty whores!"
Dee started shouting profanities while Charlie jumped up and down, screaming with joy over their victory. Frank merely looked around in utter confusion.
Dennis felt numb watching Mac's unwavering gaze. Finally, it hit him, how much everything had changed. No longer were they scared and insecure people in their 20s trying to figure out the world. Now they were jaded, gnarled individuals who were settling into themselves, finally being honest with who they were and what they wanted from life.
Dennis wanted to be there, but as the three layers of foundation on his face might suggest – besides his need to conceal the trash night of sleep he had after fighting with Mac – was that that he only let the world see the best image he could apply.
For years he'd fought the two realities offered him: miserable insincerity and blissful imperfection. Still, it had taken him so long to acknowledge his own desire for that liberation.
The closing ceremony was agrandiose deal and Frank admitted his regret at taking the Commissioner's role on the very day of Mac and Charlie's success. Charlie thanked the waitress, for some incoherently babbled reason. Mac, appreciating Frank's frankness, acknowledged that he too, had not wanted to play, but still they had to decide to earn their win.
As soon as they had been awarded their prizes, some weekly regulars filtered in a few minutes later and the gang collectively decided to switch gears. Charlie had a cocktail spill to see to and Dee followed, trying to negotiate a good hair color change for her Barbie Dee.
Charlie insisted on orange. Shrugging, Dee tried to reason with him. "We could do orange. You know, I'm thinking, LeeLoo, The Fifth Element. Something chic, you know."
"Yeah, no" Charlie shook his head, grabbing a rag. "I'm thinking more bird, like a chicken."
"Charlie, no. Don't turn her into a … chicken? Not even a goose?"
"I don't understand." Charlie's voice filled with confusion. "Why a goose?"
"The name, Charlie. Our team is called the Golden G-" Dee sighed. "Never mind. Please don't make her a bird."
"You can't make it a full chicken, Charlie." Frank seemed to agree. "The legs are too long. I say you stop with the feathers down to the torso. Then," He shrugged.
"Feathers?" Dee whined in unison with Charlie's excited inquiry.
"Yeah, just leave the bottom in jeans or something." Frank suggested.
Charlie gasped. "Of course, Denim Chicken." He looked over to the doll's previous owner. "Dee, I foresaw this win many years ago. Your chickened-up game piece will serve as the ultimate totem of today's legacy." He tucked Barbie Dee into his back pocket.
"Charlie!" She cried, lunging at him.
Frank scolded her. "Deandra, that is legally Charlie's. That'd be an ultimate violation."
"Goddammit, Frank!"
Mac laughed quietly to himself, briefly looking at the Dennis doll before sitting it up against the bar mirror as he began tending to the customers.
Dennis joined him behind the bar, moving so closely, he wondered how long it might take them to touch, or how to get Mac to look at him. It didn't matter when he was nothing but distant and business-minded the rest of the night. Never, could Dennis remember the vast hole in him feeling so pronounced as it did now. Mac was hurting, so Dennis was as well.
It was nearing the end of the night when Dennis approached Mac as their final patron left.
"So, what's the decided punishment?" Dennis asked.
Mac had just picked up his prize. He offered the human counterpart a brief glance before turning back to the doll.
"Think he's going to kiss it?" Dee slurred as she walked by.
Mac's eyes slipped back to Dennis as he set it back down. He lifted his brow to prove a point and he clicked his tongue, making Dennis' knees feel shaky and unstable.
"Shut up, Denim Chicken." Dennis tried as he leaned against the bar.
Mac shook his head and looked down at his phone. "What's the commute situation, because I wanted to finish a couple things in the office."
Dennis tapped his own chest. "I'm still shit-faced from the game and so is Dee. I was thinking we would share an uber or something. How long are you thinking?"
Mac scrolled through his phone and answered distractedly. "I was thinking about a half an hour, maybe 45 minutes?"
Dennis shrugged. "We could have a couple more drinks, Dee. What do you say?"
"Sure," She slurred. "Let's drown the sorrows of our loss."
"Not us." Charlie smirked. "We're right around the corner." He nudged Frank, still overjoyed with their win.
"Shit." Mac sighed, looking at his phone.
"What?" Charlie asked in concern.
"I think I ghosted Terrence on accident." He huffed sadly.
"Terrence?" Dee asked as she poured herself a couple of shots.
"Well, you were busy winning Chardee Macdennis for the first time ever." Dennis tried to sound gracious.
"Yeah." Mac nodded, thinking for a moment. "That works. I wanted to talk to him, so I'll just give him a call as I finish up." Mac grabbed his beer and pointed at Dee and Dennis. "I want you guys keeping track of the tab. Set it on the register when you're done." He nodded and went off to the office.
"Who the hell is Terrence?" Charlie asked the second the door shut.
Dennis rolled his eyes. "He's that guy Mac is seeing."
"I thought they were talking." Dee chimed in familiar sentiments.
"They went on their first date last night." Dennis clarified.
"Did you meet him?" Charlie asked.
"I can't picture it." Frank's voice was both confused and curious.
Dennis remembered how he promised to not taunt Mac, and even if he hadn't cared about keeping it, he would be forced to. Nothing about Terrence was worthy of teasing. "Yeah, he's uh," Dennis swallowed his pride, before admitting. "Well, tall, dark and handsome."
"Really?" Dee nodded. "You know, I see that for him."
Dennis rolled his eyes and gulped his beer as Charlie chimed. "Do we need to worry about him?" He needed an unbiased opinion to prove what Mac had promised.
"Charlie!" Frank tried to accuse.
"No," Charlie shook it off. "I mean about infiltrating the gang. There's no threat there, right?"
Dennis immediately shook his head. "No, he's got his whole own life. I doubt he'd want to."
"Okay." Charlie clapped. "That's good. Perfect. So happy for him." He grinned. "Well, it looks like tonight is all wins for Charlie and Mac. Come on, Frank. Let's leave on that high note." Charlie and Frank said goodnight and saw themselves out.
Dee sipped on her drink and patted the stool beside her, so Dennis sat down. "So, level with me. You think Mac is serious about this guy?"
Dennis gulped his drink furiously to keep himself from rolling his eyes. "I don't know. I guess he seems to like him, but it is really soon from what I know."
"Good for him." Dee nodded.
"Mm hmm." Dennis hummed in disinterest. "Anyway, Terrence shouldn't care about today. We were busy, Mac was busy. He is too new to warrant interrupting a game of Chardee Macdennis." He tried to steady his tone with logic.
"Speaking of which, what the hell was that pitiful display today?" She groaned. "We lost. We never lose and you conceded a key point."
"What can I say?" Dennis tried to seem surprised. "Mac was determined to win."
"I guess you pushed him too far." Dee cluelessly alluded to his unwillingness to play, entirely unaware of the tension going on in between rounds.
Dennis shook his head. "I don't mean to. Hey, he's got a trophy out of it, right?"
She nodded. "I wonder if he'll burn it?"
"He won't burn it, Dee!" Dennis stated defensively.
"I'm just saying, you're kind of a prime victim for a voodoo situation. I mean, you're not very nice."
"Shut up, Dee."
"Plus, you've imbued it with your narcissism and arrogance for years. That sounds like a totem to me."
"Dee, Mac is not going to voodoo doll me." He assured hopefully.
"Okay, fine." She couldn't yield entirely. "I still blame you for making us lose."
"I deserve that." He admitted before tipping back his drink.
They began spit-balling ideas for new game pieces and before Dennis knew it, it had been 40 minutes.
Mac stepped out and sighed deeply, entirely deflated. "Are you guys ready?"
"Yeah." Dee answered. "I'll request it now." A minute later her phone chimed. "Oh, Meredith will be here in 7 minutes." Dee sighed. "Perfect. I desperately need to pee first." She admitted before hopping off the stool and running into the bathroom.
Dennis stood as Mac stepped closer, grabbing the doll. "Thinking about burning it?"
Mac looked up and shook his head. "No, just," He peeled Dennis' picture off the it's face, revealing the bland Ken doll countenance. He handed the sticker to Dennis. "There." Mac sighed. "That seems realer somehow." He looked over the simple nondescript doll and Dennis felt see through in the silence.
"I am ready." Dee sighed in relief. "I think I might've actually pissed in poor Meredith's car if I hadn't stopped in there."
"The night isn't over yet." Mac offered, ignoring Dennis' eyes. "You still have more than enough time to piss yourself."
"No, that's Dennis' move. D'you see the way he played today?"
"I did." Mac nodded and tucked the doll into his shirt pocket. "And I was named victorious. Come on," He nodded to Dennis. "Lights out and lock up."
In the ride, the three of them sat in a chicken sandwich, Dee uncomfortably tottering between the two. "Ugh, my poor Dee doll." She whined. "Denim Chicken. Can you believe that? We're the only ones who cared, Dennis. That's why we lost."
Mac snorted. "I doubt that."
"But you didn't want to play." She argued.
"No, you're right, Dee, I didn't. Somebody should've cared about that."
"Mac-" Dennis tried.
"Terrence didn't mind too much, did he?" Dee asked.
Mac briefly acknowledged. "No, Terrence and I aren't like that. We've only hung out a couple of times."
"Good for you, Mac." Dee nodded with approval. "Get on out there and try on a couple. What's it matter?"
"Okay, well that's not really the tone either." He looked out the window. "I don't know, I guess I'm hoping to just find something ripe with potential, but I'm not trying to get gay married, you know?"
"Shouldn't you just call it getting married?" Dee asked.
"I don't follow." Mac replied.
"Well, you're gay, so the gay thing is immediately implied. You know, it's like, you don't say you're having gay sex; you just say you're having sex." She inspected the guilty grimace contorting his face. "Wait, do you say that? Do you say you're having gay sex to other men?"
"Well," Mac tried. "I have definitely referred to my activities as such."
The entire car groaned.
"What gay sex is gay sex; gay married is gay married; gay dating is gay dating. I'm not wrong here."
Dee sharply sucked in air. "You just give off a vague vibe of homophobia."
"Homophobia?" Mac asked incredulously. "But I'm the homo."
"Wouldn't be the first time." She shrugged. "Gay is normal, buddy, like brown hair or a natural and debilitating genetic disposition towards addictive tendencies. It's not everything about you." She patted him on the shoulder. "You're also a failed bodyguard and bouncer with bad daddy issues."
"Says the failed actress with mommy issues." Mac threw back.
"What?" She drunkenly asked, unaware of her insult.
"I'm getting Charlie the ugliest beak I can find." Mac threatened dramatically.
"No, why?" She whined.
Dennis quickly sought to distract her as he noticed them coming up on their apartment. "I know today was tough, but you played a really great game."
"I did, didn't I?"
"You sure did."
"Yeah, good job, Dee." Mac offered apathetically.
Mac and Dennis stepped out once they stopped at their curb. In less than a minute, with their goodbyes underway, the uber pulled away for Dee's apartment up a few streets.
It was a slow and quiet trudge to their apartment, as if they both could feel the tension teeming from one another's pores. The heavy sound of their hesitant steps punctuated the suffocating silence as they approached the front door.
"What a day!" Dennis thought to cut the tension once he stepped inside, trying not to think of the peeled picture of his face still clenched in his hand inside his jacket.
"Yeah, it really was." Mac agreed with a completely level voice as he tossed his keys onto the counter and grabbed two bottles of water out of the fridge for them, quickly tossing Dennis one.
"Congrats on your win. You really impressed me today." Dennis offered. "It was like torture."
Mac met his eyes, briefly biting his lip. "A downside of intimate friendships. The more someone knows you, the better equipped they are to hurt you."
With an obnoxiously dry throat, Dennis nodded to agree with his greatest fear. Mac's dark eyes reminded him of melted chocolate, and he tried to quantify just how many times he'd looked into those eyes, all the times he relied on them like a warm and bubbly nerve-inducing truth serum.
Even back in high school, Dennis immediately had thought to get his attention. Mac had seemed so cool then. He, of course knew better now. Mac wasn't cool, he was pretty lame, but teenage Dennis could've never realized just how considerate or affectionate Mac could be. Back then, he would've never been able to imagine just how cared for and thought after he was by him. He wouldn't have believed that the bad boy with a broken home, dealing drugs in the bathroom would one day shed the main reserves of his anger to discover a truly enviable inner peace.
Dennis would've had no way of knowing all that Mac now meant to him. He shuddered to think how he might've missed out. "Well, it paid off for you." Dennis awkwardly offered.
"It did." He nodded. "This time."
"See, this was your game today."
Mac nodded absentmindedly again, his eyes miles away from the moment. "It definitely helped me gain some perspective."
The last word triggered an unease in Dennis, for he couldn't quiet the queasy feeling in his stomach that it signaled the reemergence of the argument he desperately wanted to end. "Mac-" He begged.
"Don't, Dennis. I have a lot to say." Mac pushed. "I realized a lot today. This," He gestured between the two of them. "Has gotten out of hand." He sighed. "All I wanted was a little space, but you kept pushing me, and it forced me to realize that it is so much worse than I originally thought."
"Don't be dramatic, Mac." Dennis tried to tease.
"Don't be oblivious, Dennis." Mac threw back in a scalding tone. "Today got ugly and even if you won't admit it, I know you saw it. Not just how determined I was to win or how much I expected to enjoy hurting you, but with everyone else. It's like I'm the butt of some joke and you had me feeling guilty for wanting my own life. And I still can't understand why I allow it. You have no courtesy for me in anything we do. It's just an accepted fact and I am simply your idiot that follows along."
"Mac, you're taking the game way too seriously." He desperately wanted to rewind the past couple of days, if only it meant he could stop fighting with Mac.
"It's not about the game Dennis, and you know it. It just forced me to acknowledge something important."
"Which is?" Dennis recklessly grasped to make it end.
"This situation used to benefit us both and now it's hindering any chances for our own separate futures."
The air caught in Dennis' throat as he watched Mac look at the Ken doll. "What are you saying, Mac?"
Mac offered Dennis his old game piece and despite his confusion, he accepted it. "It's funny, that after all this time, I can't hold onto this. It's the victory I didn't want today." Once the air in the room had stretched into a flat layer of terrible tension, Mac was able to retrieve his voice. As steady and stoic as he could manage, he pushed out the one solution he had been fighting against, now certain it was his only option. "I think it's time for me to move out."
