Hidden Signals / Shourtney

Jealousy

      My muscles shake.

       I want to tell you it's because of the boombox that I'm currently holding above my head; I do. Life would be ten times easier that way. Well, maybe not easier, but simpler, or at the very least cleaner. The hours of second-guessing would disappear. The acid in my throat would descend. I wouldn't be fighting back the urge to punch Chris Pratt right now.

       Yeah, you heard me, Chris Mother-fucking Pratt.

       Funny how life is. Today should've been awesome. I mean, it's not every day that you get to meet a celebrity of his caliber, and yet I hate it. I hate that he's holding her, hate that I have to watch, and hate that I could never make her this happy.

      And most of all, I hate him.

      No, not really, but for the moment, it feels that way.

      I shouldn't, I have no right to, and even if I did, she deserves better. Better than that dumpster fire who just dumped her, and better than me, the guy who can't be happy for what could very well be the best day of her life.

       I wish I could be that ... could be him.

       I'm not sure when it started; honestly, I'm not. I remember sparks of it popping up a little after Dee cheated on me, mostly on the days that Courtney would knock on my door, uninvited and unannounced but always with a box of microwave popcorn and shoulder to cry on. Somehow, she just knew I'd need her. Sometimes before I did even.

       It never mattered where we met or what we did, though. It always ended the same way, a phone call from her then-boyfriend and that spark haunting my stomach. Witnessing that smile grow on her face as her "one-minute" conversation turned into ten, it electrified me.

      "You can get closer." Olivia's suggestion burns my ears.

      "Aren't they close enough?" I say through the fake smile clenching my jaw. The only one it fools is the camera.

       Olivia shoots daggers at me as if I don't feel bad enough already. My stomach plummets to the ground, but I just shrug and grate my teeth as I'm forced to watch her sink further into his arms.

      I know you won't believe me when I say this, and why should you? You've probably heard it all before, after all. But I swear, I'm not that kind of guy. I'm not. There's just something about Courtney that brings this monster out of me.

      Oh, and remember those sparks I was telling you about? They're full-blown lightning bolts now, and I blame her recent break-up. Suddenly, she's single, and I don't know, something just clicked, I guess. It doesn't help that she's staying at my place.

      I'm not gonna lie, her sleeping on my couch while she searches for a new apartment is starting to get to me.

      Don't get me wrong; I love having her so near. I just can't take the illusion of intimacy it brings, not to mention these happy accidents plaguing my brain. I've seen her in nothing but a towel too many times to count now, and I've lost too much sleep from her crawling into bed with me at 3 AM, a bundle of tears pleading to stay an hour, yet we wake up in the morning with tangled limbs. We're fully clothed, of course, and nothing ever happens. Strictly platonic.

      A round of applause alerts me that we've finished filming, but it's only when some producer calls cut that I breathe.

      I watch them separate, bile slinking down my throat at the smile she shines at him. Shine it at me. The boom box creaks in my hands, my grip tightening as I resist the urge to chuck it at Chris Pratt's head. With a deep breath in, I set it at my feet, stealing one last glance at Courtney fawning over him.

      I bolt.

      I can't be near her like this. 

----

      "Real cheap just leaving me at the studio like that," Courtney says as she slams my front door. Annoyed, and rightfully so, seeing as I drove her to work this morning.

      "Welcome back." I nod from the couch, scraping my nails across my knees. I need to look away, but that scowl on her face paralyzes me.

         I've ruined her day.

       "Welcome back? Really? Is that all you have?" She drops her bags on the floor and storms over to me. Her anger scorches my skin; her taut lips and narrow eyes set me on fire.

        Look, I know how it sounds, but I do respect her, I do. It's just the confidence she exudes when she's angry ignites me in ways that I can't describe. She holds this power over me, and to be honest, I kind of like it.

        "Look, I know you enjoy having your alone time, and me staying here has kinda wrecked that for you, but the least you could do is tell me before you blast off the planet and leave me stranded." She towers over me, hands on her hips. My bottom lip finds its way between my teeth, eyes dragging down her body before I can stop them. I jerk them back to her emerald eyes seething with annoyance.

       "I wasn't thinking, okay? I just needed to get out of there, Courtney. Needed air. I should've called you or texted. It slipped my mind, and I'm sorry about that. I am." I stand up, offering her the couch. I need to stretch my legs, release the restless tension building in my gut. "Who drove you home anyway?"

       "Ian stuffed me in with the props on his way back to the office." She stretches her arms over her head before flopping back against the couch. "I was going to take an Uber from there, but Wes was kind enough to give me a ride. He has a room opening up, by the way, so I'll be out of your hair by the weekend."

      I want to tell her that I'm happy for her. That I'll help her move in and all that jazz a good friend is supposed to say, but it stings. Knowing that she'll be living with another man stings. Even if it is Wes. Even if it shouldn't.

       "If you want to keep looking, I don't mind your company, really." I step forward without thinking, hovering over her for a few seconds. Before I do anything rash, I flop onto the couch next to her, stuffing my hands underneath me. "In fact, I kind of like having you here." Heat flushes my face.

       I don't know what I expect her to say, but I can't take my eyes off her as her lips purse in thought. The anger once furrowing her brow wiggles into confusion before simmering out to something I don't recognize.

      "I'll still be around, just now I can have my own bathroom, and you don't have to worry about losing sleep." She places a kiss on my cheek before jumping to her feet. "C'mon, help me pack my things." Now a bright shade of pink, she races out the door.

       My fingertips graze my cheek as I just sit there in awe.

       Maybe today was awesome, after all. 

---

1st POV, why not. I am still very shaky with it, but it was still fun to write, even if it felt a bit out of character.

This was a requested by Aldanta

I hope this suffices. I do have another short I'm working on with a similar theme if not.