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Sunday|| 6 pm|| Fallon & Taraji's Bedroom
Fallon laid her head in my lap as she sobbed, my hand gently stroking her thick curls to comfort her. I'm supposed to be leaving for work right now, but instead I'm here consoling her. She didn't get the role for the new show on Amazon, and she's understandably upset, but I'm trying to get her to handle it in a better way. I'm surprised that she hasn't broken a bunch of shit or trashed our room by now. Maybe it's my presence keeping her calm.
Taraji: I know you're disappointed babe, and your feelings are valid, but there will be other shows and movies. You should just be proud of yourself for putting yourself out there and getting back to what you love. I know that I'm proud of you.
Fallon: Is that supposed to help me, Raj?! What makes you think I wanna hear that shit?!
Taraji: I-I was just-
Fallon: Just shut the fuck up before you piss me off!
She got up, going into the bathroom and slamming the door shut. I sighed, going in behind her. She reached into the mirrored medicine cabinet above the sink, grabbing her bottle of alprazolam for her anxiety, along with a small bottle of patron. I sighed heavily in disappointment, massing my temples that were beginning to throb from stress.
Taraji: Fal, you know you shouldn't mix your medication with alcohol.
Fallon: Do you know why I drink Taraji? It's because of you. You drive me to drink. I mean God, all you do is breathe down my fucking neck and tell me everything that I'm doing wrong! Nothing is ever good enough for you! Why can't you just leave me the fuck alone?!
Taraji: I care about you, Fallon. I'm only trying to-
Fallon: You're trying to make me feel shitty, is what you're trying to do, and you're doing a good job of it! What, you think you're better than me or something? Yeah, you think you're better than me because you had to work for everything while I was handed everything. Is that what it is? Well I'm sorry that my mother wasn't a fucking drug addict like yours. I'm sorry that I had a father in my life and you didn't. I'm sorry that I didn't have to raise a fucking drug addicted premie at 15 years old! None of that is my fucking fault!
Taraji: I never said that it was, and don't talk about my sister. I wasn't trying to upset you. You know what, I'm gonna be late for work. You can do what you want to do. I'm tired of fighting.
I turned to walk out of the bathroom, but she grabbed me by my wrist and roughly jerked me around, throwing me up against the door and reaching past me to lock it, her patron-scented breath tickling my cheek.
Fallon: Don't you ever try to walk away from me. This conversation is over when I say it is.
Taraji: There's no point in trying to talk to you when you're like this. You're not yourself right now. I have to go to work. Can we please do this another time?
