Spilled

Part 8

Ian:

A few days later, it did get a little better. A little.

No, I still wasn't over him. Not over a little. It just got a little less awkward, I guess. Like, we even filmed with our crew, and it went okay. We didn't tell them we were broken up, but I think we did a pretty good job of hiding it. 

Sure, there were still some times when we would look at each other a little longer than needed, or he would catch me staring while he was filming a shirtless scene. But overall, things were better. Our friendship was getting back to normal.

And as much as I loved it, I hated it.

-

It was currently 10:09 p.m., and I really just didn't feel like doing anything. I had been in my room script-writing, but I got bored, so I got out and went to the living room.

Anthony was sitting on the couch, staring at the TV, but he wasn't like, watching it. He was just staring at it, but his mind was obviously somewhere else.

"You okay, Anthony?" I asked him, leaning against the wall.

He shook his head a little, like he was shaking the thought out of his mind, and looked back at me. "Fine. Why?"

I laughed a little. "While considering you're sitting alone on our couch watching the fucking Brady Bunch on a Saturday night, I feel like I should be a little concerned."

"Shut up. This is a great show."

"You sure nothing's wrong?"

He glared back at me, annoyed. "Yes, Ian, I'm fine!"

I threw my hands in the air, as if saying "damn, sorry," and walked out to the kitchen. 

I mean, obviously something was wrong, but he for sure wasn't planning on telling me. We've actually both been pretty down lately, and since we both know it's because of each other, we tend to not say much.

"Hey, can you grab me a beer?" Anthony called from the couch.

I pondered this for a moment. Anthony couldn't handle alcohol very well, and would probably end up drunk in less than an hour. Even though I didn't really feel like dealing with an intoxicated Anthony, I decided that he was definitely pretty upset about something and needed something to perk him up. So I grabbed him a beer and handed it to him.

"Thanks," he muttered, finally changing the channel.

I smirked. "I thought that was the best show ever?"

"Shut the fuck up."

I laughed and started for my room. I didn't really know what I would do, but I had a feeling Anthony wanted to be left alone. I thought so.

"Where are you going?" he asked, leaning his head back.

"Oh, uh, just, I don-"

"It's Saturday night, Ian. Take the night off. Let's watch a movie or something."

I reuturned to living room. "You sure?"

"Yeah. I mean, I'm spending Saturday night on the couch anyways, might as well have someone here for company."

He patted the cushion next to him and I sat down sort of hesitantly. He hasn't acted like this since... before.

"What do you wanna watch?" he asked, flipping through channels.

"It doesn't matt-"

"We should just play something. I haven't touched the Xbox in like, a billion years."