Love's Inferno

Chapter 14- Emotional Economies

Dante

When you're young it's easy to be consumed by ambition.

Still, its danger arrives late and quietly, unwatched as it consumes its host making it a most wretched creature; base in need and unsophisticated in acquisition. It is rare to watch someone with ambition as council only- not subject to its mercy entirely. It's rare to watch someone command their ambition, dictate to it instead, and heed rather the council of hard work, bashing back at entitlement and ego. It's a most difficult balancing act indeed, but I relished in the privilege of watching Shiloh's hard work, her ambition, unfold gloriously for an evening from afar.

There was no need for my attendance at the premiere, but I watched from the rooftop nonetheless. I also fought the urge to answer the questioning glances of the security team, quietly thrown off by my presence at an active detail. Derrick, shirty at the lack of professionalism, interrupted one of the guys' conversations about my presence over the wire and answered that the detail was under review. We never had reviews on a job. If they happened, it was in my office with a desk firmly placed between me and the person who was about to get fired. I scraped a hand over my face when it happened, the conversation, annoyed with myself that one of my guys was covering for me but I was grateful nonetheless. I was grateful for an explanation of my presence - even if there wasn't one I could provide to myself.

Why was I here?

Feelings make business (and the objectives of the family) unfeasible. Feelings are an unstable currency, a liability, that I had actively avoided investing in for the better part of a decade. So nothing aggravated me more than the reality that one woman, this woman, had managed to make me feel things. I was unfamiliar with the landscape, the economy of feelings, but with each passing day and stolen glance, I was robbed of the temptation to lie to myself. Robbed of the delusion that I had been comfortably living in that I could survive, and thrive, without participating in the emotional economy of her world. Perhaps it was just mine- in which she had capitalised on the market and formed a glaring monopoly. She had all the shares. She knew all the best trades and the worst part of it all? She had no idea. She had no idea about the instability she had bread and I wanted to ignore it. To lie to myself that ignoring it (and her) was still a feasible option but I knew that was more dangerous than any play she could ever make,  because lying to myself would leave me exposed and unprepared.

Even so, I yearned for it, the opportunity to lie to myself. Lie about the fact that I was feeling again...which left me royally fucked. Fucked in learning a new means of enterprise, humbled to once more begin as a novice.  But a novice I was, so I began where novices normally do; at the bottom with something seemingly innocuous- my curiosity.  I had been compelled to cash the trade and invest in my ever-growing curiosity. I knew exactly when it had begun- my curiosity surrounding her. It was the first moment she bounced out of her apartment in my direction. I was surprised then, at her determinedness to have a conversation, her unabashed friendliness and curious about when she had moved in. From there? Well, it was all downhill. It's why I had begun ignoring her, attempting to suffocate the instinct towards curiosity but I only figured that out later.

Now? My trades looked more like a man gambling; rushed and unsure. My instincts? Blunted. For all my calculations I couldn't seem to get any right. There was nothing I could rely on when it came to her or figuring her out. So I ambled aimlessly into new territory with my curiosity beginning to escalate to alarming heights.

For example, I was curious about how she felt when she received the first shipment of shoes. I was surprised she had accepted the shoes after our argument and annoyed that she hadn't worn one of the pairs tonight nor unpacked them in her closet (according to Lauren). I would never be able to ask Lauren about how she had responded, so that curiosity died a sad, unwatered plant, sweltering in the heat of my frustration. I was curious about her nails as well. I knew that Shi had accepted Maria's offer only when I received an enthusiastic thank you email (with pictures attached) at noon the day before. I had not looked at them. I wanted to see for myself. See what I mean about the escalation? With every day my curiosity grew overwhelming, actionable and less idle.