Super Associated

Zombieing

Checking the clock on the wall just before Chelsea went live on air again, I saw that Loose Lipped was halfway through its time slot and would be coming to an end in just over an hour. Until then, I simply had to bite my tongue, as I had been doing, and keep my murderous thought inside my head. If I could do that, I should be ok.

"That was George Ezra with Paradise," Chelsea informs her listeners as she speaks to them. "If you're just joining Loose Lipped, hello, welcome. We're joined this evening by my best friend-" Not for long. "-Romilly Taylor and we're talking about modern dating."

I scoff. "No, we're not. We're actually scrutinising my love life and how, apparently, I'm stringing men along just because I've been upfront from the start that I don't want a relationship. We've also had misogynistic pigs on the line, blaming women for the fact that men can't tell the difference between women being friendly and women flirting. In addition, we've had a debate about spinsterhood versus bachelorhood and the double standards that entails and now we're moving on to the real reason I'm here. Right, Chelsea? Because I'm not here to talk about modern dating, am I? I'm here so you can get me to reveal why I don't want to get serious with your show's producer."

Chelsea looked flabbergasted by my outburst but that was nothing compared to the shock that registered on Francis' face. His assistant flew into action, waving their arms wildly and pointing at Chelsea furiously. This is every presenter's worst nightmare: the guest taking control of the show and dictating its outcome. If Chelsea wasn't careful, I could easily take over and make this my show. Not that I would. Not really. Because that would make the headlines and it'll be up to me to communicate to the press that Chelsea Pierce's show was not, in any way, shape or form hijacked. Once this show is done, I might take emergency annual leave from work and disappear for a few days. Maybe I could convince Helena that Stefan is more than capable of going out on the pull without his wing woman for one weekend and she could come with me.

Chelsea, accepting the fact that I was finally willing to play ball with her, so rolls out her shoulders, tilts her head to the side and says, "Let's go back to the start."

The start? Francis Aubert had never featured on my radar until I accidentally bumped into him at work. I was sent down to his up-and-coming radio show to get some facts for a feel-good story Choice Radio wanted to publish about them and Francis was the producer, armed with all the details I needed. He wouldn't give them to me, however, unless I went out on a date with him. I refused and in turn, he refused. After a tense stare-off, I yielded and agreed to after-work drinks with him. He was a nice guy, I'll admit. He still is. 

So, yeah, we went out on a few non-date dates and from there, it was a casual arrangement. For the next two years, I made sure that he understood that I was not in this for the long haul. I wanted simple, no strings attached, that's all. He was a safe bet, too, which helped, I guess. Ok, he might have been a sort of layby and I might have kept him on the hook all this time but it's not exactly like he didn't know what he was signing up for. Yes, I breadcrumb him and then ghost him, ceasing contact for a while until I zombie back in. I peacock and set thirst traps for him until we're in cuffing season and it makes sense for me to have company during the colder months when there's absolutely nothing going on. In those crucial few weeks in early- to mid-September, I deeplink his social media profiles, going back some time and liking all his photos, letting all the other girls know that Francis is taken. 

Then, of course, drafting season comes around and in early spring, I ghost Francis, fall into dicksand with another guy where we're on a thing to the extent that I have to have a snack pack at the ready. Then when cuffing season comes back around, I want my comforter- Francis. So I zombie back in and the vicious cycle starts again. There's often a bit of de barging, where Mel has to compose most of my texts to Francis because I'm so not the flirting type, but eventually, we're back to our NSA agreement. 

When I finally fall quiet, I notice that Chelsea is giving me the major stink eye. I know that she adores Francis in a platonic way and they have a great friendship so really, her glaring at me for the way I treat her friend is to be expected. In my defence, though, she did drag me onto the show to talk about my relationship; what did she expect of me, exactly? That I'd sit here and lie? That's not me. Plus, it's not like Francis doesn't know that I'm doing all this. It's been two years! If he didn't like the arrangement, he could easily walk away. He hasn't. What does that say about him?

"You're not saying anything," I state as Chelsea continues to stare at me. Her mouth hangs open and her eyes don't blink. Sighing heavily, I run my fingers through my hair and clear my throat. "You think I'm a terrible human being, I understand. But you also need to see it from my point of view- I've never said that I wanted a relationship so for him to force me into a corner on that is not fair. I don't want a relationship. I had one before and..."

Chelsea grabbed the opportunity to flag up my silence. "And?" She pushed for me to illuminate her and the listeners further. 

"And I don't want to be in another one," I simply say, hiding the truth, just as I always have done. 

"If that's what you say,"Chelsea sniggered. "The time is almost seven pm and here's Jonah with the latest news. Jonah, what's happening in the world?"