Armageddon

XIII

"Baby, you're not the victim here. You need to stop acting like one," Edward says bluntly. I'm still not sure if he's judging me for staying at The Press and helping Oscar out of his mess.

"What else do you think I should've done?" I defend myself. The aggression in my voice scares me, but Edward doesn't so much as flint.

He rolls his eyes. "I don't know; maybe follow in any sensible person's footsteps and leave?"

"Fuck you."

He grunts. "Listen, I know what you're about to say: 'Edward, you're rich; you can afford to leave your job if you want to. I can't.' And that is true. Still, I need you to stop making this about you. Yes, you're a victim of circumstances, but you haven't been violated. The woman you're working to take down was. Just accept that you're helping the bad guy win and let's move on - I'm tired of your droning."

Everything he's saying makes sense, but it doesn't make me feel like a hero.

Maybe I don't deserve to feel like one.

Maybe I'm not one.

Well, then, fuck it all! I mean, it's not like I'm entirely at fault here - Edward was the one to get me this job in the first place, and he got it from me knowing that this guy was shady! In fact, the fact that he has been friends with this guy for such a long time, of his own accord, makes him worse than I am; and fuck him if he thinks he's better than me!

"In any case, I've got my Visa!"

The urge to clean couldn't come at a better time. I rise and clear the small coffee table in front of us. I stack the plates nicely and start to the kitchen. Edward rises to follow me. Why can't he see that I'm not trying to talk to him? Why does he want to go on as though he didn't just drag me through heaps of slander without even caring to mince his words? Even more insane: why should I play along with it?

"Well, you could pretend to be more excited."

Lull.

"What's wrong?"

...

"You're upset that I called you out? How old are you?"

I feel an inexplicable rage course through my entire body. "Excuse me?"

He flinches, his mouth gaping in surprise. He makes his way back to the living room and comes back with his bag on his back. "I'll just leave. Call me when you're ready to grow up."

Shit! I think I may have pushed too far there. I mean, he's not completely wrong: I've been sulking over this whole thing and painting myself as the victim when I'm not. I mean, I am, just not to the extent that Nandi is also a victim. Sure, at the end of the day, it sucks that I have to lie with the bad guy to be able to afford groceries, but I do not stand to lose as much as Nandi lost. I don't stand to lose my humanness the same way that she has.

"I'm sorry. I just-I got a little defensive there when I thought you were judging me. I'm sorry; you're right," I blurt.

He sighs. "It's okay. I understand how you're feeling, and maybe I was a bit too harsh; but I just want you to understand that somewhere in all your moaning of how a capitalist system forces you to be a horrible person, someone out there has it much worse than you - because of the same system."

I nod. "You're right. I should grow up."

He smirks. "Finally, you see it."

After a little banter that involves a lot of insults directed my way, Edward re-introduces the topic he'd tried to introduce before I threw my little temper tantrum: "My Visa has finally been approved!"