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~The Machine~

# Chapter 3: The Letter #

Half an hour later, Courtney still lay on her stomach on the bed thinking of what to write. Or rather, berating Bridgette in her mind for putting her through this.

The brunette considered it a waste of time to put an effort in anything that wasn't going to get published or recognized. She hadn't kept a diary since she she was eleven, and even then it was just because her friends all kept one.

And now she was stuck with this useless task, just because her klutz of a friend thought there was something she wasn't saying. As if she didn't know her own mind.

Suddenly struck with an idea, Courtney grinned evilly as she folded the paper neatly in two and wrote in big bold letters: To Bridgette. She then opened the paper again and wrote:

Dear Bridgette,

I'm not hiding anything at all (really!).

Courtney smirked. How's that for a let-out?

I do not, in fact, feel secretly sad, and there isn't anything I'm NOT telling you.

She would be done in no time. Then she would give this to Bridgette and get all her probing over with.

All I feel is anger, indignation and embarrassment towards the situation and the people in it. I do not feel sad that my and Duncan's relationship failed

Courtney stopped short at that last sentence. It rang wrong in her mind, because really, how could she not be sad? You are always sad when a relationship fails. Afirming that she wasn't made her sound like- like a robot. If she wrote that, Bridgette would surely think she was lying.

Maybe she was.

She erased that part and decided to leave the subject alone, since she couldn't write she was sad either, because she had already told Bridgette she wasn't.

Why had she even said that? It wasn't true.

Courtney shook her head and decided that had been a spur of the moment. Moving on.

Rereading the letter, she let out a screech of frustration as she realized she had already written she wasn't sad earlier. Dammit! What is it with my subconcious betraying me!?

She doubted before erasing it, debated with herself for a while and then decided to just leave it as it was and move on.

Courtney realized she'd have to make it more emotional and sappy to convince someone like Bridgette. The brunette consulted experience, thinking back to a few years ago, when one of her sisters, Jill, discovered her boyfriend was cheating on her.

A 12-year-old Courtney had spent days by her side, handing tissues during never-ending crying fits, eating cake and ice cream with her, and offering tender-hearted younger sister advice. The storm had lasted a few days, before she slowly got her life back on track.

And it was right then that Courtney realized just how absently she had handled the whole thing. Yes, she had gotten angry, and possesive, but the whole time she was thinking of how it affected her publicly rather than how it affected her as a person, as a girl, as a girlfriend.

She hadn't taken the time off to mourn the death of her relationship. She had just gone straight back to working to get on the show; a show she shouldn't even want to be in, having had her boyfriend just cheat on her on it.

Now, Courtney didn't think it was appropiate nor acceptable to reduce herself to tearful mess, she just thought it was worth reflecting; her sister had been older than her now when all that happened.

Courtney thought of Jill, of her flowing blonde hair and green eyes- all inherited from Michael. She was a truly beautiful woman; she was also a family girl, and she was about to marry her college sweetheart at the tender age of 23.

This was an action Courtney never had, and never would approve of; marriage, for all intents and purposes, was a tie, and she couldn't see why someone with Jill's intellect and capacity would waste her youth like that. Courtney was alone in that, too; her parents had been thrilled.

Thinking this, Courtney felt at ease once again; if she disagreed so much with her sister and her choices, why should she use her as a reference in her relationships? Clearly the she was different from her sister, and she had reacted differently in accord.

Like an adult—yeah, that was it. She was taking it like an adult. A mature adult who could see when a guy wasn't worth distressing over.

Although… adults sometimes act like teenagers, she mused as she thought of how her mom had broken down when Michael abandoned her. But then again, that was her husband, the man she'd shared years with, the love of her life.

Courtney knew she liked Duncan a lot, and at some point she might have fantasized of him being the love of her life; but in all honesty she had no idea what she felt about him, while he had always seemed to have it so clear.

She had always avoided thinking about this, but now with the Gwen thing, and that stupid letter task… she felt like she was compelled to figure it out, fast.

Courtney wanted to shout at Bridgette, for making her think of things she didn't want to think about, but she couldn't bring herself to get angry with her; right now, she didn't feel anything.

Courtney looked down at the paper and forgot all her previous intentions as she wrote the next sentence:

Bridgette, I don't really know what I feel.

She pulled that pencil back to examine what she'd just written. It rang true, for a change.

What's wrong with me? How come I'm not crying my heart out? Am I really as insensitive as I parade to be?

After she finished writing that sentence, Courtney suddenly got a hold of herself. What was she doing now? Was she going with Bridgette's original idea now? Didn't she think the likes of this were a waste of time?

The brunette, out of pride, wanted to stop right there.

But then again…

Courtney looked at the paper, which still was more than a half blank, and bit her lip.

…she wanted to see where this would lead her. Her natural curiosity sparked, and she had an uncharacteristic burst of humbleness as she thought maybe Bridgette was right, this did help. And besides, nobody had to know she did this, right? That she went against her personal beliefs….

Courtney thought no more and began to pour all her thoughts onto the paper.

Bridgette, I do not feel like my heart's been riped off from my chest, I simply feel nothing.

Was I not pretending when I told everyone I didn't care?

Bridgette, did I ever really loved Duncan?

I haven't shed one tear since I started suspecting of him and Gwen to this day. If I really cared about him, my heart should be split in two right now, I should be cryng a river.

Ever since this all started, I haven't had one single moment of weakness, in wich I missed him, or wished he was here.

Courtney laid her head on her hand, and bit her lip as she wrote on.

Bridgette, if I cared about Duncan at all, I wouldn't have gotten angry at him or felt the need to wrapp my hands around his neck and strangle him slowly. I would've gone in denial, blaming Gwen of everything, and then gone crying to his feet, beging him to tell me it wasn't true, and that if I'm lucky he'll hug me and tell me its all a lie and we'll be back together.

But I guess I'm not really that much in love with him, since I can still see matters objetively.

Bridgette, based on these facts I have come to the conclusion any logical human being would've come to; I don't really love Duncan.

…

…

…well, that was kind of a relief.

There was the answer she had been looking for, she hadn't felt anything because she had no feelings for Duncan.

Courtney leaned back, feeling cold at the core. Now she regretted going with Bridgette's idea; she could have lived on quite contently with those things still buried in her subconcious.

The brunette slowly rose from the bed, her eyes avoiding the letter she had just written. As minutes passed, she drifted away from the trance she had been submerged in as she had that emotional outburst, and reverted slowly back to herself.

She was suddenly startled by a loud beeping coming from her PDA. As she went to accept the reminder for dinner time, she suddenly remembered she still had to call Michael about his offer. So much had happened since she got his letter earlier, she had completely forgotten about it.

Courtney stayed put for a second, as if doubtful. Then she straightened her back and adopted a concentrated frown, that made almost it seem as if the last hour had not hapened at all; and dialed his number with violently shaky fingers that let see it had, in fact, happened.

Courtney had just had a crazy idea.

"Hello?" the voice was heard at the other end of the line.

"Michael, it's Courtney," she said. "Your daughter," she clarified after a moment, thinking of how many Courtney's a businessman like him must know.

Courtney felt her sudden resolve like a fire glowing brighter in her chest, melting away the conficting feelings from before. Convincing her father should be easy enough….

"I can recognize your voice," he said curtly, with a tinge of hurt that was always sure to appear whenever they had a conversation.

"Yeah, yeah," Courtney said without thinking. "Listen, I thought about your offer."

She wouldn't let anyone manipulate her, anymore.

"And?"

She wouldn't let Duncan toy with her feelings.

Courtney turned to her room's window. "I don't take it."

She wouldn't let her father buy her.

Michael sounded put out. "You don't?"

"No," she said firmly. "I will, however, take" she drew back the curtain to see outside and smirked, "a plane."

Ooh, what's Courtney up to? I'd love to hear guesses. :D

The typos in the letter are intentional.

~The Lighthouse