I Write Romances, Not Live Them

Chapter 3

"A true friend is someone who never gets tired of listening to your pointless dramas over and over again." - Lauren Conrad

Just when I thought my day could not get any worse, it did. Not only was Madge retiring permanently, but it was also her last day. Her only explanation had been that she thought the news would have been 'too detrimental' to my 'fragile system'. When a parade of office workers had marched in, clad in party hats and carrying cake, I'd lost it. Flew off my rocker, blew a gasket, went off the deep end. Pick your idiom.

I left in the hustle and bustle of the impromptu party, sneaking out through Madge's always open door that seemed to just have closed.

I could come back in a few days and meet my new editor and Madge's successor. The trip just seemed that much more miserable without Madge on the other end of it. She said the person they hired was a man named Mr. Elliot Hayes. I was appalled my company had assigned me a male editor. Call it childish or immature, but I really didn't want to discuss the dialog of a kissing scene with a dude. Just the idea sounded mortifying.

As I was walking out of the building I felt a tinge of remorse for just leaving Madge like that. For those previous four years, she'd been my saving grace. I knew she deserved a goodbye at the very least, but I didn't want to say goodbye. It would just make the entire situation that much more permanent. I decided I would call her or something after I cooled down. We would reconcile with each other later. I still wanted to stay connected to Madge in some way. She was one of approximately two friends I had in New York, the other two were scattered across the country. My dad was hours away, living in that little house that built me. My best friend in the world was on the other end of the country, all the way out in California. The distance seemed insurmountable sometimes, but we made it work.

I stomped back to my apartment, throwing a tantrum like a little girl would. I was mad at Madge for doing that to me, just leaving me to die and shrivel up. I needed her and she wasn't going to be there for me. What I needed most after that horrendous day at the office was to vent every evil word and thought my mind was producing, and so I decided to video chat my best friend, Bria.

Bria is the type of girl that gets upset when her Starbursts don't unwrap flawlessly, but is completely over it once the candy is in her mouth. She laughs too loud during movies, gets distracted by stray cats, and dresses like she rolled around on Picasso's canvas. But I love her for it.

Originally, Bria went to Los Angeles to be an actress. When that dream went out the door, she filled the void with a new goal: becoming a director. Her life went on the same pattern this way, when one dream failed she would demote herself and reach for something that was closer. She finally found something to shoot for last year when she got an internship for a costume designer. Now, she's learning all about the clothes that make movies what they are. I know she loves it, but the distance between us was hard. Both of us were always so busy with work, we couldn't be there for each other the same way we could in high school. Bria had been my rock through bullying, my insecurities, and she's been working for years on getting me out of my shell. I just needed to talk to her.

It was just before nine in the morning in Los Angeles when I tried contacting her, I hoped I wouldn't wake her. And if I did, I guessed she was just going to have to deal with it. While I waited for her to respond to my video chat request, I stripped out of those retched clothes, crumpling them into a tight ball and shooting them basketball-style into my hamper. I put on comfortable clothes and corralled the hair on my head to fit into a ponytail. Bria's voice came calling from the living room, I raced over to meet her confused face after grabbing the apple I'd been eying in the fridge. She looked like she hadn't woken up that long ago, her curly black hair was in knots around her face and her eyes had a glazed over look to them. She squinted at me and I adjusted the camera to my face, smiling widely at her with my lopsided grin.