Thank you to everybody who read or reviewed the last short story. Also, thank you to Nina for posting the last installment for me because I wasn't in a place where I could. Thank you to everyone who sent their condolences to my brother-in-law. It's been a hard couple of weeks, but we are working through it.

This is going to be the last anthology short story I post before moving on to the main story. I promise there will be more stories in this series, but I want to start working on the main course before coming back to the supplemental.

Disclaimer: I do not own Ugly Betty or any other version of the show. We would be on season nine, if I did.

This takes place immediately after the season three finale.

Things We Only Realize When Drunk

June 13, 2009 12:22 AM
Marc sat in a trendy bar in the hotel hosting this farce of an award show nursing his fourth whiskey of the evening. He had been sitting there ever since he ditched Amanda an hour ago, after receiving a phone call from Betty-the-job-taker. Amanda tried to be there for him but it wasn't working because sometimes he doesn't think sincere is in her repertoire. She was his best friend but sometimes she didn't get it. He couldn't deal with false comfort right now.

It was already close to 1 AM, but he did not care. So far he avoided four phone calls from Amanda, three from Betty-the-evil-job-taker, and one from his evil, backstabbing boss the wicked bitch of the Upper East Side. He was in no mood for a pity tonight.

Finding out you lost your dream job in the fashion industry to somebody who thought Jimmy Choo was a type of gum would drive anybody straight to the bottle. The realization that it was your own fault because you were too afraid to try something new was another thing entirely. He was a moron.

Normally he was not one for hard liquor, preferring a Chocolate Martini or a Screaming Orgasm. Neither of those would improve his mood on this night. Today was a hard liquor kind of day. If only he could find a "Screaming Orgasm" that was not in a glass, maybe he would not be drowning his sorrows in hard liquor. Unfortunately, this wasn't that type of bar.

There has not been much of that recently, anyway. He didn't have the time for anything substantial nor did he want to. At least that's what he told himself.

What happened with Jodie definitely did not count. He was trying to repress what he did with his YEIT instructor a few weeks ago. Unfortunately, there was not enough alcohol in Manhattan for that. (That situation was so bad he wouldn't even go to her for a recommendation.)

Now he was sitting here hurt and angry with both Wilhelmina and Daniel. He was angry with himself for believing Wilhelmina cared about anything but herself. He didn't resent Betty at all. That is a lie. He hates the job taker a little.

He knew she worked hard and was brilliant at what she did (but not more brilliant than him). He worked just as hard and was stuck in career purgatory. She would make a wonderful editor at a magazine that did not focus on fashion. She was the only person in the world who could miss match designer clothing in a way that made them so grossly tacky. She didn't even want to write for a fashion magazine but her Daniel bear was there so she was never leaving.

If it were anyone else, he would scream up and down that the person got the job over him because she/he applied on his or her back. (Although she was sure Megan and Jacqueline were already spreading that rumor around as he tried not to cry into his glass. He may join them once he was sober anyway. Just because he doesn't believe it, doesn't mean he won't gossip about it.)

Betty would never do anything like that. Even if Daniel finally got a clue and realized he only married Molly because she was a Betty clone, nothing would come of it. Betty is just too good of a person to get a position by sleeping with the boss, even if she is in love with him. Why hasn't this magazine sucked all semblance of morality out of her already, like it has everyone else? He really hated her sometimes.

After finishing his fourth (or was it seventh) shot of the night and receiving another phone call from the evil one, he realized he should probably go find his master. She probably needed to fit him for a new choke collar. Tonight, Marc did not care.

Instead, he ordered another shot. He could not take Wilhelmina's fake promises punctuated by an even faker smile. He was done. She went too far this time. He was tired of advancing Wilhelmina's career while she placed his career on a sacrificial altar.

He wondered if Wilhelmina ever intended to give him the editor position or for him to become anything beyond her slave. Maybe dangling the position in front of him like a carrot was just a ploy to get him to continue in his servitude. The diva probably did not want to break in a new slave- he means assistant.

She knew he wanted to stay at Mode (Amanda needed someone to watch over her) and used that against him. Again, Wilhelmina only cared about Wilhelmina. He should know that by now. Yet he allows himself to be bamboozled.

From beauty injections to blackmailing surrogate mothers, Marc did everything she asked of him. He should have been in jail 1000 times over because of some of the things he has done in her name (mostly related to consoling her stealing Bradford's sperm). Yet he did them anyway for her sake, with little concern for his own self-preservation. She was his own personal idol and he would do anything for her. That was his own stupidity.

She never said thank you. She never gave him anything other than adequate on his employee evaluation. A lesser person would have turned state's evidence against the wicked Bitch of the Upper Eastside long ago or at the bare minimum freshen up his resume.

A stronger person than him would stand up to Wilhelmina, but that wasn't him. (Mommy Weiner made sure of that.) One of these days, Wilhelmina will just self-destruct and he will watch her powerless to do anything.

If the entire evening had not been humiliating enough, the cherry on top was the presence of his ex-boyfriend Cliff. Cliff was just another embodiment of how Marc continuously allows self-doubt to keep him from something great. Okay, it was another reminder of his tendency to self-sabotage his own happiness.

Marc got so caught up in preparing for his new job, that he did not actually take, that he completely forgot to check to see his ex-boyfriend was nominated for anything. Of course the brilliant photographer was nominated in the best cover category for his photography. (Unfortunately, he lost to some hack who did a cover for Isabella that looked as if he shot it with his iPhone.)

Marc was completely shocked to see him at the ceremony. His date for the evening surprisingly enough was fashion designer Briana West-Hartley. She was the super-rich and eccentric designer aunt of Betty's Boy Toy, even though she was only nine years older than Matt. (It was quite the scandal, multimillionaire impregnates his housekeeper and then keeps the child.)

He always admired Briana because she was one of the few women that could tell Wilhelmina Slater to fuck off and lived to tell about it. She stopped advertising in Mode in June of 2006, right before her self-exile to Paris, just to prove that point.

Adding insult to injury, she started advertising in Player when diversity conscious Isabella ex-pat Monique Osborn took over. (Rumor has it that they are best friends and bonded over coming into existence the exact same way.) Briana West-Hartley was one of the most brilliant business minds in the fashion industry. Then again she was a Hartley.

If it were any other ex-boyfriend, he would not be jealous. However, he remembered a conversation with Cliff after he discovered a photograph of an ex-girlfriend in Cliff's apartment. Cliff told him that he loved people not gender. Therefore, it could be possible that his ex went to the dark side again. To make Marc's evening complete his ex-boyfriend's "date" was now sitting next to him at the bar in the hotel sipping a mango Margarita, Betty-job-stealer's favorite drink as she spoke with her baby daughter in the most loving way possible. He needed another drink.

"Can I please have another one?" He raised his hands as the designer beside him finished her phone call with 'I love you'. "This time maybe a scotch."

"Are you drinking liquor like water because of a stupid guy or some other reason?" Briana asked as she started to concentrate on her drink again.

"If only it were a guy. Unfortunately, it is some other reason. How did you know it would be a guy?" Marc replied, taking the drink from the bartender.

"We met before when you were still the assistant for Wilhelmina Slater. You spent half the photo shoot hitting on the models." She answered nonchalantly. God bless her for assuming that you would no longer be working for the she-devil.

"One of the few perks of my horrible job as one of Wilhelmina's flying monkeys."

"You're still her assistant? I didn't think anybody could take working for her for five years without spending time in a psychiatric ward." She said with a laugh.

"Unfortunately, yes. The only reason I'm not in a straitjacket is because I couldn't find one with a designer label." Marc said with a bitter laugh as he took another drink of the scotch.

"Maybe I should look into that. I could design an entire line for individuals with mental illness who still want to be fashionable."

"Maybe Wilhelmina can be your model. I would love to put her in a straitjacket. It would be ironic considering what she did to her sister." Did he really say that out loud? He really did love Wilhelmina; there were just some days when he wanted to strangle her. If something were to happen to her he would be devastated.

"What did she do to her sister?" The designer asked with a sense of interest.

"She had me switch her sister's psychiatric medication with fat blocker to trigger a psychotic break. I probably should not have said that. Too much liquor after being stabbed in the back by your boss tends to loosen lips." Marc said sardonically.

"Hey, Brianna the car should be here in 15 minutes and I think we're going to have to go without Monique. She's not answering her cell phone but according to one of the waiters, Mo ran out of here quickly without saying a word to ..." He stopped speaking when he notice Marc. He and Cliff stood there looking at each other in shock.

"Hello Mr. St Paul. I was just speaking with your lovely date for the evening. I did not know you switched back to the female side of things." Marc said in a very cold voice.

"After what happened you do not exactly have a right to be upset Mr. St James, especially if certain rumors about you are true." Cliff answered pointing out how silly the last name thing was.

"He is THE Marc?" She said in a way that told him she knew way too much about him. Neither man responded to her.

"I am going to let you two talk to each other, as I make sure that Monique is not here before we leave without her. Maybe I should try her boyfriend. Just so you know, I came here as Cliff's escort because my BFF Monique was nominated in the best men's magazine category but she disappeared before she accepted her award. God I hope she's just having sex with new boy toy in the men's room and just lost track of time." Briana said as she left the bar.

"Your 'friends' with a fashion designer now, you hate fashion?" Marc put emphasize on the word friend.

"We have known each other since I was in college. Bri is different. For one thing, she designs clothing for the Mode girl who isn't a size -2."

They stayed silent for a few moments. Finally, Marc broke the silence. "Graduations on being nominated and I'm sorry you lost to some hack from Isabella. You were much better."

"You've been keeping up with me?"

"It's in my best interest to keep up with the best talent in the industry even though it didn't work out for us." Being I fucked things up so badly.

"I haven't been purposely avoiding employment at Mode. I just go to where the work is. How have things been with you these last couple of months?" Marc knew it was a weak attempt at small talk, but he was just happy that Cliff was still speaking to him.

"Absolutely lovely. I got into the YETI program and I squandered my chance because I mistakenly believed that Wilhelmina actually cares about somebody other than herself. Now I will forever be known as Wilhelmina's flunky. I fooled myself into thinking that she sees me as anything other than her personal slave. Currently I am stuck at a dead end job with no chance of ever getting out. Betty gets the job I want because Daniel is in love with her. You know the usual. Did I mention I did get into the YETI program? I did nothing with that chance but I did get in." He said trying to accentuate the positive.

"You did. Twice. I remember you were spending so much time on the project, congratulations." He almost sounded gracious.

"Thank you for letting me use the photographs for the mock magazine even after we broke up." OK so Cliff may have did a lot of the prep work for that project.

"I wasn't going to jeopardize your career just because we broke up."

"Thank you for caring about someone other than yourself. You are the only one besides Amanda. Can I please have another scotch?" He wasn't drunk enough to make nice with his ex.

"How many of those have you had tonight?" He almost sounded concern when he asked the question.

"This will be the seventh one." At that he could see the bartender hold up 10 fingers.

"Maybe it's time to switch to fruit juice or even coffee? You never could hold your liquor very well. You always do stupid things when you're drunk." The last part was said in a whisper but Marc still heard.

"Such as telling Wilhelmina's sister how Wilhelmina really acquire the sperm for her almost Meade baby or how I screwed up our relationship by fucking someone else?" There was also the desperation of the most recent Jodie incident but Marc was completely repressing that force venture.

"I wasn't going to bring that up."

"Why not, I think about it every time I pass by that guy's apartment. I live in that building now that Miss I-stole-your-job moved back to Queens. I took over her apartment with Mandy." Marc said as he brought the drink to his lips. Apparently the bartender took Cliff's suggestion and Marc is pretty sure he was drinking a shot of apple juice.

"I don't want you to do something you'll regret again." Cliff said taking the empty glass from Marc's hand.

"Already did that and I was stone cold sober at the time. I got a job offer to be a Junior Editor at Vogue." Marc told him bitterly.

"That's wonderful," Marc could tell that despite everything Cliff was genuinely happy. That just made him feel like even more of an asshole for screwing up what they had.

"I didn't take the job. I almost took the job, but Wilhelmina promised me a similar position at Mode."

"You have worked there a very long time. I can understand why you would decide to stay." Cliff's said this in a tone that told Marc that the man thought he was crazy. That's OK because Marc feels exactly the same way.

"Except I didn't get the new editor job, Betty-Job-taker did. Which is why I am sitting here drinking scotch with my ex-boyfriend who I let get away because I was too scared." He wasn't sure if he was too afraid to move on from Mode or Wilhelmina.

"You also lost your chance at Vogue because you were too afraid to step outside your comfort zone. This is what you did with us and now you are doing it again with your career. You need to stop being afraid of change." There was an underline sense of bitterness in the words.

"It's too late for Vogue, they've already filled the position with someone else. It is too late for us as well?" It was not a statement this time, rather a question.

"That position has already been filled by someone else as well." Cliff said as he let Marc take a shot. This one was thankfully not Apple juice.

"Please tell me he's not prettier than me?"

"His name is Corey and we met at a shoot for Player in January. He's working in Milan this week otherwise he would've been here." Of course Cliff is with a model, which makes perfect sense. The universe hates him.

"I guess this is what I deserve for being a cowardly asshole." Marc said finishing his… He's not even sure what number drink of the night.

"In that case maybe you should stop being a coward. Next time do not keep yourself from taking advantage of a great opportunity. Promise me that the next time you're offered a great career opportunity you won't let Wilhelmina or anyone else, including yourself, keep you from taking it." Cliff almost banged.

"I promise," Marc said as he suddenly became sick. Maybe he should have stopped at six drinks. It felt like the room was spinning.

"Just because we're not together doesn't mean you can't call me occasionally. I think we can be friends at this point." He wasn't so sure he was ready for that. He personally wanted to figure out who the model boyfriend was just so he can blacklist the guy from working for a New York-based publication

"I thought you burned my picture in effigy." He joked. Marc may or may not have a copy that he keeps in his bedroom that Amanda knows nothing about or whatever.

"After I sent back that girdle and left a few nasty messages with Amanda I got over it. I do not hate you as much as I did in the beginning. Besides Briana is also an ex and we are friends now. It doesn't all have to be fights over the microwave and puppies." If he wasn't on the verge vomiting he would be raising an eyebrow at Cliff.

"I never got any of that until a month and a half ago. Amanda is very overprotective. I hope you don't like those shoes." Marc said seconds before destroying said pair. That's essentially the last thing he remembers as everything goes slightly black.

The next morning, Marc wakes up to Amanda giving him a bottle of water and some Tylenol. He tries not to think about how much he missed his ex. He wondered if Cliff was the one who brought him home last night. When he saw the cab receipt he knows that it was Amanda that brought him home. Of course, Cliff would not be that nice, not after what he did.

He tried not to think about the fact that Amanda will probably be the only constant in his life. He also tried not to think about how he was completely stuck in his current situation. He also tried not to think about how it really was his own fault. Nothing will change unless he changes it. Did he really want things to change?

Yes, he did. He was tired of being alone. He was tired of being stuck. But how does he change his current situation? Marc isn't sure what to do so he resolves to put his head under the covers until his hangover becomes halfway manageable.

If Marc wasn't so hung over he would've realize that that receipt was Amanda's receipt from earlier that night and Cliff actually did bring him home. If he turned it over he would have saw the words 'call Jodie 555-555-2369' written on the back in Amanda's eyeliner. But he doesn't call because by the time he actually does wake up the message is crumbled under his bed. It will be a year before Marc realizes what his inactivity cost him this time.
The End

This version is not significantly different than the old version on the surface but I did plant the seeds of one of the major changes I'm making to the new version of the story. Does anyone want to venture a guess as to why Jodie called (other than Nina who knows what I have planned)?