by Olivia Janae
“You know what, I don’t even care. Who does that? I can’t be with someone who would just throw Max and me away like that.” – K
“Dude, you’re stupid.” – C
“You’re stupider.” – K
“You’re stupidest. She didn’t dump you. Sometimes Viv just does this whole get out of my sight thing when she’s really angry. Doesn’t mean she dumped you.”– C
“Do you know how many times Max asked about her today? Six. Freaking six times.” – K
“Come out with me.” – C
“No.” – K
“So even if you and Vivian broke up… that means we can’t be friends anymore?” – C
“Yup.” – K
“You’re an ass.” – C
“I do my best.” – K
“Fine. If you don’t come out with me then I’m not watching Max next week. Teresa isn’t free. You’ll be screwed.” – C
“Fine. I’ll come out.” – K
“But I don’t like… you.” – K
“Viv’n today?” Max asked over his cereal.
Kate groaned, her head in her hands. After she had returned home from the bar with Charlie, she had dug into her own private vodka stash, washing away any feelings that had remained. It had worked quite well, but now she was paying for it.
Seeing Charlie had been great. She was happy that they would still be friends despite Kate’s sins at the Gallaudet dinner, but it had been more of the same: Kate explaining that Vivian had broken up with her and Charlie insisting she was wrong.
She groaned again as Max dropped a plastic cup, and it clattered to the floor, thankfully empty but making a lot of noise that hit Kate straight in the headache.
She had been broken up with before, but this… For a little while she had forgotten one of the most basic rules she lived by: you can never count on anyone but yourself.
She felt foolish, and that pissed her off.
So she had had a bit more vodka than she had planned, until she had flopped back onto the couch cushions singing Earth, Wind & Fire and grumbling unintelligible things until the wee hours of the morning.
“Max. I’m sorry, but I don’t think so.”
“She gone away?” he asked through a very large mouthful of cereal. “Like you that time?”
Kate sighed and sipped her coffee, guilt rotting her stomach. The summer before they moved, Kate had gone to a two-week music festival. That seemed to be Max’s only understanding of the concept of loss. “Um …” She wasn’t sure what else to say so she just said, “Kind of, kid.”
“Okay.” He let his spoon clatter into the bowl, making Kate moan. “I see her when she’s back.”
Kate’s head fell into her hands.
This was fine. She was fine. She could do this.
It had been over a week since she had heard a peep from Vivian. She knew that she still had clothes, a few practice books, and a handful of things that belonged to Max over at the loft, but they were in a we-both-think-we-are-right standoff. Kate was not going to be the one to break it. It was true Kate had made a mistake, she knew that, but Vivian had grossly overreacted.
Her initial depression had faded, and in its absence Kate had begun to feel the sting of anger.
Everything was screwed up. She might not have a second contract. They might have to move. Vivian had been wrong.
Only… she missed her. Max missed her.
Not that she would have admitted that to anyone at this point.
The raging, righteous fire had burned for three or four days into the new week, keeping her fury at an acceptable level. Once that began to ebb, Kate spent the days pacing, chewing her nails.
She would not be the one to give in, but why hadn’t Vivian called? She knew there was no reason for Vivian to call, since she had dumped her, but she still found herself waiting for it, for some type of “Hey, how are you” or “I’ve got your stuff. Come get it.”
Charlie was obviously annoyed, too; her texts were becoming more clipped as the unspoken fight that Charlie thought was ridiculous wore on.
By the time one week had turned into two, Kate had a rehearsal, and she was anxious. It was the middle of the month, which meant that, as usual, Vivian would be in.
She didn’t want to see her. She was pissed, somewhat heartbroken, and resigned. This wasn’t so surprising. She had always known Vivian was way out of her league. She supposed the only difference was that now Vivian knew it, too.
She wasn’t looking forward to seeing her, but there was no avoiding it when the woman who had broken her heart was also her boss.
It was her just deserts, she was sure of that. She had no idea how she was going to go to rehearsal and face her. She wasn’t sure how to handle an interaction with someone who had openly decided that they didn’t really like her, care for her, or want her.
She tried to tell herself this was no big deal, that she could handle this, that being broken up with was a common enough happening, and she almost believed it when she said it.
Kate prepared to face those cold eyes, building her anger, preening it.
She would get through this the only way she knew how. She could paint herself inside a shell; she could hide her fragile self-esteem behind her own mask.
She spent a long while that evening getting dressed. She dug through her clothes until she found her best jeans, the ones that hugged tightly to her rear, thighs, and calves. The pants tied like shoelaces just below her hipbones, so that no matter what shirt she wore, a small amount of toned stomach and lower back were always showing. They were her best weapon, the jeans she only pulled out when she needed a big boost. She pulled on a pair of heeled boots and a tight black, spandex, long-sleeve shirt before combing her hair into a wild disarray of waves and curls.
She felt silly as she did it, knowing the best idea was to simply sit Vivian down and talk, to admit that maybe this was killing her a little bit, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t live through being kicked out more than once, not like that, not for something so menial.
Vivian would fold.
She studied herself before she left, pleased. As far as she could see, Vivian didn’t want her, but if she was going to stand in front of her boss and former lover and be deemed unfit, then at least she would feel good about herself, her physique, while it happened.
When she arrived, Kate rid herself of the jacket that she planned on returning to Vivian as soon as she walked into the building, pulled her cello onto her back and tossed the coat into her locker.
She was going to get through this, and if by the end of the night Vivian deeply regretted her actions then so be it.
“Hey, Flynn,” John called with his usual grin. “You know it’s snowing, right? What happened to your clothes? Layers, friend, it’s all about layers.”
Kate shrugged with a smirk. “I like to walk on the wild side.”
“And the wild side loves you.”
“Shut up.”
“Drink after?” He tossed an arm over her with a flourish. “I keep hearing about this little jazz place up the street. I dunno, it’s supposed to be this kinda jazz fusion thing. Sounds cool. I was thinking about checking it out, you wanna go?”
“Sure.” She settled into her seat, sharing yet another slightly too formal nod of greeting with Ash.
She was a nervous wreck all afternoon, trying to pretend she wasn’t. This was usually when the WCCE had their board meeting. Vivian and Charlie should have been there, but either they were delayed or they had decided not to come into the theatre.
The longer she waited, the more she felt like an absolute ass for having spent so much time on her hair and clothes.
She was willing to bet that Vivian wouldn’t if she were going to see her, that only she could be that pathetic.
She was standing at the edge of the stage talking with Mary when she heard the door fly open, followed by the telltale clicking of heels that she had been waiting for all evening. The sound made her heart clench in her chest, se
nding ribbons of excited panic through her limbs, a learned response. It made her all the angrier. She refused to feel that way. She refused to still want this, but now that she could hear Vivian coming, she had to admit a truth that she had been avoiding.
She didn’t want it to be over.
She swore and shoved that thought down. It didn’t matter. She pictured Kristen’s face as she laughed, Vivian’s face as she asked her to leave, as she told her that she didn’t need a lover “like her”; each thought battering her insides like a wooden bat.
She ran her hand through her hair, fluffing it a little as she fought the urge to turn and look with everything she had.
“Hey, Kate.”
She threw on her best “I’m casual, I swear” face.
Kate did not miss the chocolate-colored eyes that shot from her hair to her feet and then away all in a moment.
Kate tossed a wink to Charlie but only smiled politely at Vivian, conveying that yes, she was indeed still angry and would not be backing down.
Vivian moved forward and down the stage stairs as though she hadn’t seen her. Anger flushed Kate’s cheeks. Apparently, Vivian was feeling no remorse; apparently, unlike the Flynn duo, Vivian did not miss them.
“Whoa. Um, trouble in paradise?”
“Shut up, John.”
Vivian was in and out throughout the rest of the rehearsal, doing nothing but distracting Kate. She wanted to grab her and do something slightly violent, something slightly inappropriate. Each time Vivian passed without making eye contact, the tension within Kate continued to build until she was all but snarling at those around her.
Charlie, seemingly more aware than her best friend, began to look concerned, as if she knew she was standing too close to a ticking bomb.
Finally the rehearsal was over, and Kate stood with a jerk to pack her cello. She had to accept the fact that it was done. It was over. She would have to get her things from Vivian, and she would have to explain to Max that Vivian was gone from his life.
It didn’t matter. She and Max were stronger than iron; they didn’t need anyone but one another. That only frustrated her as she felt her mind rebelling. For just a moment, Kate felt her head sink under water, drowning in grief. There was no point in mourning something that had already been lost, but clearly she had cared much more than she had realized.
Vivian came around the corner at that moment, startling her from her thoughts. Without meaning to, Kate caught her eye. She knew the angry face she had been wearing all night had slipped, leaving raw worry exposed.
She didn’t want to break Max’s heart like that. She didn’t want to face what it would feel like once this really sank in for her either. The thing was… she needed that woman like she needed oxygen. She had found something different with Vivian. Being with her hadn’t felt like any other relationship she had been in; there had been something real in it, something that she had thought was significant. She would survive, she always survived, but with Vivian only a few feet away and sorrow constricting her heart, she wanted more than anything to reach for her right then.
She couldn’t. Not anymore.
Vivian faltered for a split second, something new on her face as well, before her eyelashes fluttered. She looked away and continued on her path.
Kate watched her go, bitterness swilling around in her gut like old wine. She swung her cello up and over her shoulder and turned to face John. “Ready?”
“Yeah,” he said, his eyes slowly moving between Kate and Vivian. “Uh …”
“Well then? Let’s go!” she snapped, trying to shake off the cold burn.
He paused for another beat before he threw his arm around her shoulders, and they started for the door.
“So, you want to talk about it?”
“No.” She brushed some of the falling snow from her shoulders and shook out her hair.
“You two still together?”
Kate gave a noncommittal grunt.
“Is that what this getup is about tonight?”
“I said I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Riiiight.”
The club was a loud one, blue and green lights shooting from the windows, percussion and bass making the roof vibrate.
John held the door open for her, and with a nod, she swept in. The bass beat a steady rhythm in her chest, and for a moment she felt better. It was then her phone began to vibrate in her back pocket.
“I know what you’re doing.” – V
Kate’s heart skipped a beat. She stopped in the middle of the walkway, making John barrel into her and a man barrel into him. She told herself not to respond, that responding would only make the situation messy, and yet …
“What?” – K
Vivian’s response came almost immediately.
“The jeans. The shirt. It is far too cold out for those and therefore I have to believe that it is a ploy to gain my attention.” – V
Kate let out a rude snort at the arrogance of that, making John send her a glance of concern.
“Kate, you are indeed worth more than your body. You do know that, correct?” – V
Kate’s anger warred with shame, embarrassment, and a furious resolve. She typed her response back so fast that she continually hit the wrong buttons. She had to type it three times before it was able to send without mistakes.
“Meaning?” – K
There was a long pause that made Kate’s skin itch.
“Ms. Flynn, I expect to see you in my loft in no more than thirty minutes.” – V
The message was so Vivian that she both loved it and was infuriated by it. She paused, mid-turn, already halfway to the door before she stopped. She stared at her phone screen. She wasn’t going to go, that’s what she told herself. She wasn’t going to go running to Vivian when it was she who had been dumped.
She took a long moment to think about how to respond, irritated with herself. Vivian had been unfair and hurtful. No, this wasn’t how things were going to work.
“Actually I have plans. I’m at the Blue Lantern. You can meet me here if you want.” – K
“Whaddya want?” John yelled. Kate yelled back her order, feeling twitchy.
Why had she said that? She should just walk away. Why had she given this a chance to continue? She shoved her phone into the pocket of her coat, on silent, hiding from it as she tossed the coat over the back of a chair. She really had to give it back to Vivian, especially if this was how things were now.
When John returned from the bar, he placed, with a huge grin, her drink in front of her as well as an extra shot. “Lady problems mean that you could use it.”
“Who says I’m having lady problems?”
He just laughed, raising his shot glass so they could clink them together.
“You know, I heard this band down in New Orleans. They’re pretty sick.”
Kate had to nod. While she had never been much of a jazz musician herself, she loved the genre and had to respect it.
The music was infectious, and soon they were bopping and swaying in their seats.
Kate was almost grateful for the cello incident with Ash. Had it not been for that, then she would never have realized just how much she enjoyed John. He was easy to be with, easy to laugh with, and his affection never felt anything other than brotherly, which meant she could really let her hair down when she was with him.
“You wanna dance?” he called through the schizophrenic beat.
“Hell yeah!”
They downed their drinks, and then, coming together chest to chest, they started to kick, dipping and stomping, feet flying as John spun her.
“Come on, Flynn! You can do better than that!”
“Bring it, Hart!”
She was laughing hard as they whirled together, feet skipping and jiving, when she saw Vivian walk in, straight-backed, jaw set, face stark. Kate considered breaking away from her dancing buddy but decided against it. She was enjoying herself. She even felt a little better than she had.
Wh
en the song ended they cheered and applauded for the band with the rest of the bar. “Who taught you how to dance, Hart?”
He shrugged, his cheeks burning a bit from exertion. “My brother was into vogue dancing in the eighties.”
Kate stared at him for a moment, eyes wide before she doubled over, her hands on her knees, laughing until she felt a harsh snort rip through her. “Really? Really, dude?”
John clapped her back and offered another dance, but she shook her head and nodded in Vivian’s direction.
“Ah. The Ice Queen,” he nodded, with a knowing grin.
Kate snorted again, appreciating the distinction between Vivian and “the Queen.” “It would appear so.”
“You sure you don’t want to talk about whatever is happening there, Kate?”
Kate sighed, shoving her hands into her pockets. “No. I can’t be one of those people that talks about her right in front of her. Even after …” She cleared her throat and smiled lightly. “Whatever. Thanks. I’m gonna take a seat.”
“Should I find myself a lovely lady and stay out here?”
“Totally up to you.”
They took their seats and hesitantly, rigidly, Vivian took one with them.
“How are you, Vivian?” John asked, not seeming to mind being the meat in a tension sandwich.
“I’m fine, Mr. Hart. How are you?”
He sighed, shaking his head and taking a sip of his drink.
Vivian’s lips pursed, and she added, “I’m sorry – John.”
“Oh, you know how it is. Can we get you a drink?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
He chivalrously went to the bar, getting her drink for her.
Kate caught her eye, and both looked away, a slight edge still rippling below the surface. She studied the dance floor, her anger flicking to life again as she wondered what the point of Vivian joining them was if it was just going to be like this.
John returned a few silent minutes later and plopped drinks in front of them with a wink. Kate took a huge gulp and cheered, clapping above her head as the next number started. John and Kate discussed the technique of the players for a while, Vivian sitting stiffly in her chair, eyes wandering; with them, but very much apart.
