Digital Tears

Goodnight

She turns on the television in her posh office in LA. She would fit in any fashion magazine, wearing a sloppy rendition of a suit, tie, and pants that would be intentional for anyone but her, draped across a white velvet sofa. Typically by this time she would have her patients, but for the past few days she had closed, saying she was unavailable. She flicks through the channels lazily until she gets to the national news. There she lingers, watching celebrity and political scandals, not much difference between them, commercials, and whatever random shit they put on. By now, anyone would've changed the channel, but she watches. January 17, 2030. It's the day. Then it comes. 

Breaking News. In DC, well known dentist and actress Teaghan Fish has committed suicide by overdose as well as falling from a high building. While an extremely popular dentist, Fish is well known for her portrayal of Skyler in the hit film High, a film about a student who is over prescribed with drugs for their mental disorders. While an act of fiction, this film singlehandedly sparked a revolution in the pharmaceutical industry, leading to safer and better drugs and prescriptions. Fans are still perplexed by the rumor that the sidekick and the person who helped Skyler speak up for themselves, Priya, was named by Fish herself, though the reasons were never specified. Another rumor that left fans of Teaghan perplexed is that she wished to be an anesthesiologist. This rumor was denied by the actress, but fans still speculate why she changed jobs. The family refused to comment, but their emotional reaction speaks volumes. She would've been 26 today. The country mourns the loss of this wonderful, wonderful woman. Now, onto Politics with Matt.

She turns off the television, emotionless. Then she laughs hysterically. "They kept saying she and woman. You would've hated that. I wish you would've taken my offer, I could've used you for some of my cases. I'm still gonna write that book, you know." Laughing, she goes to her fridge in a corner of the office and pulled out a bottle of champagne. She grabs two flutes and pours. Lifting one, she says, "Cheers!" and chugs it down. She pours another, and another. Her laughter turns into racking sobs that shake her whole frame. She walks to the floor-to-ceiling windows facing the street, tears running down her face, makeup smeared.

"I never forgot you, love. I never will. I will always love you. Why did you leave me? Why-why did you-" she dissolves into tears, collapsing onto the ground.

After hours and hours, she composes herself. Wiping tears, she looks outward, onto the busy street, still busy at night. She smiles, then starts laughing again. Hysterically, as if there is no one in the world but her. Laughing and crying, all at the same time, like some unholy cocktail. "Still c-can't believe they called you she!" Teary-eyed, she lifts the other champagne glass. 

"Goodnight, love. Goodnight."