The Beautiful Truth

++ 114

"Micki, I don't think that's the best—"

She didn't listen. He knew she wouldn't. Across the room, Barton's iPhone dinged with a text message alert.

"Too late!" she cheered from the other end of the phone line.

Alex forced a sigh of exasperation, but deep down he was glad she'd done it.

'You took too long,' is what she said she was texting his best friend, but it was probably more along the lines of 'Listen, you shit-for-brains pseudo-Chris-Carrabba, you wasted your fucking time and now SF's moved on.'

"Why haven't I heard him throw his phone across the room yet?"

"He's out on the balcony."

Writing one last, bitter-ass song for the record, because apparently his prolific virulence knew no limits. Micki didn't need to know that part. She'd already made clear her opinion of the new album...at every opportunity.

Alex couldn't wait to get back to Berkeley. He missed Micki—seeing her every day, loving her in person, rather than over the phone. Living in LA all summer had proved to be a toxic experience. Granted, it was productive: Barton had gone back to his Black Heart roots on this album, but unlike before, when he'd written about betrayal and broken hearts from a mostly third-person or completely fictional perspective, he now wrote from his own heart...and was determined to make everyone around him as miserable as he was.

It was working—Alex almost wanted to find someplace else to live, unable to imagine the dark cloud formerly known as his best friend clearing once all involved parties were living in the same zip code again. Seth had done his best to ignore and avoid the situation—he had rarely used his room in the house they'd rented all summer. Next week they'd be back in the East Bay. No one really knew what to expect.

"I'm glad you got to see her this weekend," he told her, watching Barton scribble another line into his notebook, leaning back on two legs of his chair. "I know you've missed her."

He could hear her smile on the other end, and it suddenly broke his heart that he wasn't there to see it.

"I have," she admitted. "Thank you, for understanding."

"Micki, honey, I let SF off the hook a long time ago," he said. "I just wish—"

"I know, babe. They're exactly alike, you know. Stubborn as fuck."

He laughed softly and without humor. "What are we gonna do?"

"Nothing," she told him resolutely.

"Outside of passive-aggressive updates on her personal life."

"He broke my best friend's heart, and he's just too proud to fix it, so I reserve the right to—"

"I know."

Micki sighed. "I know you do. I'm sorry. How's this gonna work, when we get back? I feel like I have to pick a side."

Alex hesitated. He had wondered this himself. "Like everything else, Mick, we'll figure it out."

"I know," she finally agreed happily. "Hey Alex."

"Hey Micki."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."