The Mirror

Will the real Tyler Durden, please stand-up? (The Mirror part V)

'Lois, you're slumber parties are like totally awesome!'
The attempt to re-ignite our original bond via our mutual contempt for all things Valley-Girl, isn't a game she wants to play
But as much as I know she wants to begin her worried lecture, the idea of seeing me, walk out of the tiny bathroom of her small condo, with a towel wrapped around my hair as if it were a beehive hairdo, is just enough to knock her diatribe off course.
But
Lois, being Lois
She quickly recovers and fights my intentional ridiculousness with a snarky retort:
'The second-hand shop wants you to know you still have a hundred and sixty-five dollars in store credit due to your spoiled girlfriend's inability to understand how money works.'
I see the verbal slap against Faora as a move by an experienced boxer who is working the edges so they can get their opponent into a corner where a real beat-down can be delivered
But I have just taken a shower
Washed my hair with shampoo and conditioner that came out of separate bottles
And if it wasn't for the sauna I created by using so much hot-water, I may have even stayed in there to blow-dry my hair, just so I could give her a fashion show with style as well as heartfelt appreciation
But even though I was prematurely thrown out onto the runway, I can see the crowd is already warmed up
My act starts with arms held out so Lois can see how everything fits perfectly
So much so, that I have to take a second to admire what the fogged bathroom mirror would not show me with clarity
To me, the sleeve of the dark denim jacket is an object worthy of glowing admiration
I speak of the jacket as if I was reunited with an old friend:
'Sweet!'
I make sure she can see the appreciation in my eyes before letting out the reason for my astonishment
'I'll never get why people give up new looking clothes'
For her part, Lois has been patiently kind
But she has also strategically patient
Not saying anything about my actual condition after I said I did not need a hospital, but a shower
Visibly resisting her inner desire to start lecturing me
Or
Start making demands
Not even asking me about Gotham after I volunteered the part about how our mutual friend, Colonel Hardy, and I got, reacquainted
Lois taking temporary consolation in the fact that whatever was in my head, it is now in the government's possession
It is though, my plan for what I should do next that shocked her into sitting quietly
On the defensive
Letting her mind develop a plan, before, her apprehension takes the predicable path to open dismay for all things Tyler Durden
Lois had kept the peace by offering peace
The peace of her small condo
But now
Standing in her space
Wearing clothes, either she or Martha picked out, Lois's big-picture worldview shrinks to that of a worried sister
And so
With her attempt to see me as the enemy crumbling, she reaches first for what is easiest to disapprove of:
My missing fashion sense
It is all she can do to keep her jab from going lower than snarky:
'Maybe because nobody really wants to look like John Denver, anymore'
She considers the t-shirt I have on underneath
Sneers it without malice:
'Or Fonzi.'
To me, anything, is better than looking like a vomit splattered, escaped prisoner
And so trying to do the math of: second-hand jacket, pack of t-shirts, pack of socks, new jeans, belt, and most importantly, a new pair of the blacked out Converse high-tops; my response is to keep surrendering to her kindness:
'How much do I owe you, Lois?'
The anger, fury and frustration she wants to hit me with, crashes head-on into her humanity and compassion
Internal tug of war ends as her inner-attorney decides a visual aid is what the jury needs
With a snatch of the remote, she turns on the TV
Of course, her TV is always set to a news channel
And so her TV turns on directly to a 24-hour news station
Perfectly cued for her opening argument
A muted newscaster is showing a breaking video clip:
US Military vehicles are being pelted with rotten fruit as their convoy leaves Gotham
She watches me as I watch
Not liking one bit the smile forming on my face
That I am on the wrong side of her version of history is all the trigger she needs to remember the real point of me being here
Me being here is her last chance to encourage me to be a responsible citizen
Like a good arguer, Lois starts with a simple thesis:
'Tyler, please do not bring Gotham's madness into Metropolis'
I skip over what is normally the polite cocktail-party position of:
How about we agree to disagree?
Because we both know that Gotham and Metropolis are so different they might as well be on separate planets
And so I get to work on pointing out why her evidence is irrelevant:
'Look closer, Lois'
She doesn't; so I point at what she is obviously not seeing because she is only focused on the fact no one is waving a flag
'Cops and regular people are standing side by side'
Finally, she looks
And with her not looking I hit her hard:
'Maybe when the army finishes getting the hell out of Gotham, those same people will start seeing each other as fellow Gothamites again?'
With the trap set, she springs it by changing the channel to a local station:
A crowd has formed on the sidewalk in front of Lex Plaza:  Posters preach on the evils of medical experimentation; a line of cops, standing a polite distance from the protest discourages it from approaching any closer to Luthor Plaza
Anger and frustration start to win her internal tug of war as she exclaims the obvious:
'Metropolis isn't Gotham!'
Like duh!
I plead no-contest to her charge because I have already told her my plan:
'Lois turn that off.'
Not wanting see the anger on her face, I turn back to the mirror
A mirror she has strategically hung at the corner everyone must pass to exit her small condo
A place to check, one last time, if you are ready to go out and face with world, with your face
Fake smile rewards my reflection.
That I am not happy with me manifests as the yank on the towel holding my wet hair so I may finish double checking the me, others see
The verdict is harsh
Even when compared to a real monster:
Your eyes will never sparkle like his did
How do you know what they do when insanity is being released?
Well, they're nowhere near as beautiful as hers are
And why do you want to be beautiful?
Grin pulls mouth open wide.
Plain old, regular guy teeth
Teeth without cavities are good enough
I stick out my chin
Look at the deep scar running from beneath the eye to the end of my face
You should put some make-up over that
A heavy coat of white make-up...
But then no one will see it when I smile.
Then paint a smile on!
Gaze shifts to the slicing scar on my ear
Up to the knot of a scar on the end of my eyebrow
I run a hand through hair
Monster!
Behind me Lois is just watching with morbid fascination
I catch her stare
Smile as I see another way to convince Lex:
'Do you have some of that hair product left?'
Lois's expression says she can hear the announcement:
Sanity has left the building
Exasperation at how quickly a serious conversation was derailed, again, Lois turns her head away
I say it to convince her my original my plan is still the only one that will work
And I am simply keeping all means of viability open:
'I think if I had curls maybe Lex would be interested in, what I have to say.'
With a huff of disappointment, she turns off the TV
With the ugly news, off, I take a second look at her condo while still pretending to look in the mirror
Decide to give her a taste of her own medicine as she tries to see what I am really looking at:
'Speaking of, I thought your place would be more girly.'
Not a cluttered collection of books, magazines, journalistic awards, and framed photographs of her with people of interest or in dangerous locations
She sees the danger of me for me
Her warning is a blunt one:
'Tyler, trying to meet with him is a bad idea.'
I look back to me
Take a step back from the two-foot square turned into a diamond so it may offer as much vertical as possible
A change in perspective does not help:
You're too skinny
Too beat up
Hair is too unhealthy
Eyes are too sad
No wonder you never had a chance
The succession of blows knocks me away from more needing more of a reality check
Self-soothing hands stroke hair as I pretend to collect wet hair off of my shoulders
A heavy breath refocuses thoughts on what must be done, no matter how small the chance of success really is:
'Lois, this is the only way I can get a clean break from these assholes'
She sees it too
Sees that you are the one who is breaking
I shut-down her pity-party before it can gain momentum:
'If I don't this, the rest of my life is gonna be ruined by a need to look over my shoulder.'
She points to the TV that is now off:
'Please tell me you are not going there to incite a riot.'
I have already told her what I am going to do
Agreeing to her demand is a given
So I explain why her fear is a stupid plan:
'Lois, I got to get those people out of there, or he'll just be more pissed when I do get to see him.'
With one threat scratched off her list, she moves on to her next fear:
'And if you disappear?'
She leans in with a pointing finger to punctuate the consequences
That her real worry is not for me, comes out of her as a rush of worry for the person she does care about:
'You are just going to drag Clark back into the mess you said you wanted to pull him away from!'
Seeing where her heart is leaning, I fight fire with fire:
'No Lois!'
Volume throws her mind into neutral
With her attention gained, I let the tension out of the room
'Whatever happens, he has to stay out of it.'
An uneasy truce develops as we stare
My plea bargain is a heartfelt plea:
'Please tell me you'll make sure of that.'
That I am sticking to a story I have told everyone, repeatedly, allows what I have said to, not only be believable, but a last will and testament that Lois knows can be used against Clark if his conscience starts getting in the way, of him, remembering me for who I am
She nods acceptance
Gives up with a heavy sigh
Her eyes begin to drift a wandering scan of my scarred face
Stopping at the one thing that I think I still have going for me
Attacks it without mercy with a joke that says she is finally accepts the vacant position of big-sister:
'Tyler, I don't think anything will help that shaggy mop of yours.'
I hear it for the surrender it is, and so begin my counter-attack, by hitting her while she is enjoying her insult:
'Lois, hair product is for insecure girls.'
That I too am willing to play the mean sister game without malice causes her to fully assume the role
She grabs the jacket
Shakes me
I smile as I let go into her rocking
She stops as soon as she sees me welcoming our role play as sisters
Letting out a sigh as her eyes search me for an answer to a question she has been asking herself with greater frequency:
'There really is no, Tyler Durden, is there?'
Hearing authentic concern in her voice is my cue to throw her under the bus she is trying to hit me with:
'Oh, the real question is, who is Lois Lane?'
Her expression falls flat as the idea hurtles towards her
'Are you an investigative reporter, who loves to fly solo?'
She steps back from the unexpected assault
'Or a devoted wife and loving mother?'
Lois frowns at the idea it is okay for me to question her identity when clearly mine has critical issues
But she cannot think her way out of this argument fast enough to stop an idea that is my continual thought whenever I think about how Lois Lane is the key to world peace:
'One who spends her spare time organizing the local community?'
The problem manifesting in her expression is one of her own choosing, and she steps into the trap, right on schedule:
'Tyler, modern women can do both'
The landmine I planted in the middle of her path, goes off:
'No, Lois, nobody gets to cherry-pick only the good parts from different lives and not also be to blame when little Clark shoots up the school playground because all the discarded parts of those different lives came home to roost while everyone was out shopping.'
She can't believe that I am blaming her, personally for the world's problems
Her inner policy wonk comes out with its own self-fulfilling thesis:
'Which is why positive messaging is so important in shaping correct opinions!'
The backhand against blaming, or praising the messenger, is already swinging:
'Oh, yeah let's blame videogames, so no one has to look in the mirror and face what our two-income family-plan is actually purchasing.'
She cannot believe it is happening, but she still fires the accusation at me simply because of what I am implying:
'Tyler, how are you, of all people, a misogynist?'
With her chin out, I land a hard one on it:
'I didn't say a woman couldn't role-play as the man.'
She looks at my hair with a suspicion affirmed as I keep going:
'In fact, I think we both know, the problem with men is that they think being born with a penis was a victory they earned.'
She looks back to me with a new understanding
Hearing that I am only giving her, her side's share of the blame; because what I am really doing is something only a close friend would dare attempt
With her thoughts beginning to see what we are really talking about, I hit her has hard as I can:
'No one can change the world, Lois'
That I am driving her towards Smallville, becomes clear.
'Hell, most people can't even change themselves'
Panic that I have caught her, on an issue she has left dangerously undecided, causes her to run from the issue by looking out the window to hide her uncertainty
And, in doing so
Lois lets the unchanging world, outside, stare in
With her mind on the edge of an abyss, I give her a push:
'If I was you...'
She looks back, daring me to assume, I know what is best for her
Thankfully, knowing the decision is hers, I avoid the mistake of advocacy and give her a peek at the prize:
'I would put all these mementos in a box, so one day your kids could see what you gave up...'
Her mouth falls open as I reach for her heart:
'Just to be with Clark'
Her chin waivers
I reach in to put arms around her:
'But it's your choice'
Pull her close and squeeze the remaining tension out of her with a hug as I say it:
'Just be honest with yourself'
She pushes me away to arm's length
We lock eyes
'But don't ever, try to tell me, ever again, that there is anything more important in this world than love.'
She looks away to hide the tear forming
She looks back with wet eyes
I smile
'So whatever path you take...'
My smile allows her to see that I am about to ruin it:
'Don't expect me to pay you back for this stuff.'
She leans in to give me a friendly shove, and so misses the emotional curtain I have drawn down
'Tyler you're the worst best-friend, ever!'
But at the height of her own joke
She sees it
For in the same moment in which she feels the warmth of finding someone who understands the complication of her love and only wishes to offer support; she also sees that I am me, and so, maybe, just maybe, there is something else she should be paying attention to...
Lois investigates:
'This is a game to you?'
I try to bluff:
'You mean its wrong to go around conning smart women in buying me clothes?'
As I point to a con that is the connection of how both her and Martha have bought me stuff, she hesitates
Then goes with her gut and ignores the distraction to make her point:
'You get into everyone else life'
I guess she is an investigative reporter
'Without letting anyone into yours.'
In her rush to find my deception, she has only picked-up speed
And with her mind racing
I let her crash into the Man of Steel:
'Lois, you heard Clark at the dinner table'
She tries to shake her head no at the attempt:
'Don't...'
'He never got to be a boy'
It stops her thoughts of me cold
'He had to be in control of all that power, all the time, Lois'
She nods acceptance of the weakness that is a fault-line running deep within Superman
I reach out to touch her dangling hand with empathy as her mind tries to quantify the size of her problem:
'So even if you never have a child'
An alarm rings deep within her as I call out the price of falling in love with an alienated alien:
'You will always have a boy who needs his girl to play mother when he needs one.'
It is something she already knows
She tries to turn it on me:
'Is that what you are doing?'
I dodge the idea that I have just revealed my Rosetta-Stone, without saying, no
'Does it look like I am trying to grow up?'
Skipping over her point should be a red-flag, but the fact that I have identified her relationship's fatal-flaw knocks all thoughts on investigating me further, right out of her mind
She sighs out defeat as she does the math on how to solve her problem and finds the only formula which has a chance is: One day at a time.
She swallows the emotion before she can look up to
Frowns as she takes another look at my hopeless case
Tries one last time to play sister as she grabs my jacket to shake some sense into me:
'Tell me you going to be okay.'
I do as she asks:
'You are going to be okay.'
She tries to shake the joke from me
Looks worried as I keep smiling with an obliquely bleak admission:
'And feel free to use that store-credit to buy yourself some Smallville clothes.'
Her eyes flit back and forth
Then finding only that I accept my fate, she looks away as tears begin to flow out
She is still looking out the window at an unchanging world as I walk out the door.