"I heard you had an episode," James said one day over lunch at Urth. I felt my eyes widen in shock.
"Ethan," I groaned.
"I didn't tell him?" Ethan insisted uncertainly.
Grayson looked away quickly, fiddling with the salt shaker.
"I was frustrated," I explained.
"Were you using my editing goodie bag?" James prompted.
"Of course, thank you for that." I offered. I tried to change the subject. "Imagine I filled that hard drive. A year's worth of footage."
"That would be something else." James agreed.
"I had to change some of the songs in my old videos," I said conversationally. "Copyright."
"Copyright's a bitch." James agreed, "Anyway, you should get an editor. Maybe it would lessen your weekly breakdowns."
I shrugged, hating this conversation no matter who I had it with. My friends, parents, anyone. But Ethan.
"And then maybe Ethan would actually live in our house," Grayson interjected sourly.
"Gray, we've talked about this..." Ethan started quietly, placing a firm hand on his wrist. Grayson's eyes challenged him to go further.
"Sorry, I'm the problem friend. I don't mean it," I said shakily. "Plus, I like editing when it's a good video, and nobody edits the way I do."
"That's bullshit, everyone on the platform edits the way you do. Even our editor has picked it up!" Grayson scoffed, laughing heartily as if I'd just told a stellar joke. For the first time ever, I didn't know what to say to him. So instead, I threw my napkin on the table and stomped to the exit. As I left, I heard Ethan mutter; "You assholes," and follow me. I didn't slow down. I flung the door open to my Mercedes, but Ethan's large hand caught the door before I could slam it in his smug face.
"Hey, Emma, stop, come back in and talk. They're just poking fun. You're not the problem friend," Ethan said casually.
"No." I snapped. "I'm done with the teasing. I've taken it for a long time. That's enough. And in case you haven't noticed, I am the problem friend, Ethan. Everyone knows it."
I tried closing the door, but Ethan held firm. "Emma..."
"You know, for as much as Grayson tweets about mental health, he's not being very sensitive to mine. And you! You didn't do shit to defend me! Is it all just a front that you create? When we're in bed, it's all 'it's going to be okay, I love you' bullshit, but then when we're with your buddies I'm just another one of the guys. What the hell is that? Are you using me?" I yelled up at him.
"Jesus Christ, Emma, no! Where is all this coming from?" Ethan asked me in disbelief.
"I don't-, I just- I don't know, Ethan, just let me go home. Please." I stuttered.
"No, hell no. You're just going to go home and be upset in a different place. I'm going to shut this door, walk around the car and get in the passenger seat. Don't you dare drive away." Ethan decided, slamming the door shut.
He was beside me before I knew it, awaiting my answer. But I didn't have anything to say.
"Are we okay?" he asked hesitantly.
"Of course we're okay," I said. "I'm just so...mad! At myself, James and Grayson, my friends! Everyone! I'm just all alone, trying to figure this shit out."
"Babe, you can always talk to me. You know that," he said gently.
"I know, but not everything I want to talk about can be with my boyfriend. I want my friends back, and my old life back." I said softly.
"The only thing we can do is keep moving forward, Emma." Ethan offered.
"I know," I whispered back.
vote/comment for next chapter
sorry this is weird and short
i just wanted it up lol
