You Must Be the One

Grey- Compromise & Control

For alonnsegov

Shades of grey wherever I go
The more I find out, the less that I know
Black and white is how it should be
But shades of grey are the colors I see

Billy Joel

"Strategically, timing is everything," Bobby takes a sip of his wine. "Right?"

He's trying to gauge her reaction, to see if she'll bite, but she doesn't feel much like playing games, so she nods, stabbing at a heirloom tomato. She takes grim satisfaction the way it bleeds when the tines of the fork pierce it.

"Bobby, for real, though. I'm fucking tired. This shit is exhausting. Aren't you exhausted?"

He shakes his head, non plussed by her reaction. "It's my job."

"What? To keep up appearances? To feed into this bullshit that's been going on forever? As my manager. I know."

"No," his tone goes sharp. "As your friend."

"I'm a big girl, Bobby. I can keep my private life private just fine."

"I'm not suggesting that you can't, honey. All I'm saying is that we just play it out a little while longer. Let people think what they wanna think..."

She's prickly, defensive, and she's aware. Pushing back at Bobby, at anyone who just wants to help isn't entirely fair and she knows she should quit it, before everyone throws their hands up at her (it's certainly happened before), but it's almost like she's possessed. Too goddamned itchy in her own skin to let this charade go on one second longer.

At first, it was about how sticky everything was. A grand old mess. Not anyone's intentions and certainly no one's fault. Damaging just the same, though, and she rolls her eyes these days just thinking about their weak ass denials, how they were so careful about not hurting anyone that they would both react as though the mere suggestion of anything other than a platonic relationship was as believable as life on other planets.

Gradually, though, it snowballed out of control. Somewhere along the way. It was never intended to go on this long, in this manner. Yes, it had been nice to not have to worry about people talking, not to have to be accused of things they were certainly not guilty of doing, to go about life and their relationship without added pressure or commentary.

But keeping up appearances gets old after awhile and more than that, they eventually have to come to terms that it's really fucking unfair. To everyone involved.

Bobby thinks it's about timing and God, she loathes the concept. Their whole thing was based upon "right person, wrong time," and just that makes her long to spin the old adage on its ear, to put them in control of their own narrative.

There were so many elements of her life when she was just beginning her career that she didn't have a grasp on...as time progressed, she insisted upon it and the results were satisfying, gratifying.

She hasn't had a foothold on things in that whole department for a while now. Too long. Life's circumstances, the need for privacy...you name it. But the more the charade progressed, the more hints that were dropped, she wanted just to say, "fuck it," throw everything out.

Now Bobby sighs, as though he can read her thoughts.

"If you'd just listen..."

"I'm listening, Bob. I'm sick of it. All of it."

"I know you are, and I completely understand, but trust me here, okay? There's got be a way to ease into it."

"We've been "easing into it," for nearly four years now, Bobby. C'mon."