Ophelia doesn't know what to expect after Matthew Gray Gubler hires her as his new assistant. on top of grad school and trying to get ahead in the film industry, things get more complicated between the two.
hi I will cry I hate when they're mad at each other. physically pains me. here's a pic of Matthew looking angelic to make it a lil better.
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I stumble home at around three am, empty-handed and empty-hearted. after kissing Jake, I had to promptly excuse myself to get some air on Linné's microscopic fire escape. my entire body was wracked with nausea, so I stayed there for a while. I'm not sure where Jake went; maybe he looked for me, maybe he didn't. either way, I managed to wait until Ren was ready to go as the sidewalks rang out with cheers below.
and now I'm sitting in bed with my dress still on and a pile of crumpled makeup wipes on my bedside table. my brain wanders to where Matthew is tonight, if he kissed someone, too. he doesn't want to see me. I understand, but it still stings.
my body slips into sleep from sheer exhaustion before I can ponder this much longer. what a way to start the New Year.
...
four days pass in a monotonous, horrible drag. I'm still on break, so there are no classes to occupy my mind. instead, I isolate myself to the confines of my room, stocked with bottled water and a heap of snacks. I could edit my footage, I suppose. the idea of seeing Matthew's face right now in any capacity, however, feels like a death sentence. I would rather pity myself.
it gives me more time to think about my mom and dad, and how my father hasn't called me once since I was home. he never asked how I was doing, if I needed to talk to him. I'm not sure why I expected him to do so; he wasn't there for my mom, either. I guess part of me has always hoped that he would turn on his heel and finally give me what I wanted. like if he would scoop me up in his arms, everything would be okay again. but parents don't always do their job.
I really am pathetic.
my fingers try to reacquaint themselves with the guitar in the meantime, and the rush of familiarity provides a bit of comfort. I just can't keep my brain from wandering away. it's like, even when I'm not thinking of Matthew, I'm thinking of him. his face is in the architectural balance of the skyline, in the made-up melodies of the strings, in the bottom of my cooking pots. everything reminds me of him.
Ren leaves me be, for the most part. I've never been hurt so badly in my life, and I think she recognizes that I need time. that doesn't mean I don't catch her sympathetic glances and attempts to cheer me up.
when Friday finally rolls around, I trudge my way to the Electric Eel. the plan is to film with Tia alone first, then Matthew will show up at around seven to do the last scene. I feel shaky with anxiety knowing that this is likely the last time I'll ever see him.
the sky is starting to turn a deep plum color when I pull open the door and step inside. Tia's flipping through some interior design magazine while she leans against the counter. a few stragglers sift through the vinyls in the back. a German alt-rock band is playing gently through the store speakers.
