HIM .. Joe Goldberg

VINTAGE

YOU'RE SO POPULAR, JOE, THAT YOU ALREADY HAVE A GIRL TALKING TO YOU. I know that you're just lonely, and lonely men love a pretty girl, but she isn't prettier than me, is she? You said I was the most gorgeous person to walk into your bookstore. You wouldn't lie...would you, darling? You came to the same bar I tweeted about, that means something, doesn't it?

I sit a few seats away from you, filling our space with a wino and an empty chair. I want this to seem like a coincidence. Random. What are the chances we'd see each other twice in the same day? I want you to feel as mystified as I would.

Hannah sits on my other side, and she's a good actress. Dried tears swallow and ruin her makeup, and she desperately asks the bartender for two shots. She's close, but not close enough to seem like a lover. She's just a friend who fucked up, trying to repair damage that seems permanent.

"Brit, please. I didn't realize—Britannia, look at me!"

It's my full name that makes your head perk up. You remembered me and you were waiting for my arrival. You look at me even while my back is turned.

"How could you? You know Charlie was mine, and you fucked him." I swallow my shot without a cringe. I know how to take my liquor, Joe. I'm a good girl with dark secrets, and that's becoming apparent to you. "I thought we were close, you knew how I felt. How could you?"

"I'm sorry, Charlie is just..." She shuddered, took a shot. Charlie won't mind that we're using his name without his presence, he'd be flattered to have two beautiful girls arguing over him. Wouldn't you, Joe? "He came onto me, Brit. I promise, it meant nothing."

"Bullshit." That's when I let the tears flow. I'm vulnerable, love. Helpless. I need your strong arms to protect me from the scary world. "How could you?"

And we make eye contact, and you see how desperate I am for someone as solid as you are. I'm too afraid to admit I knew you from somewhere before, and you know the timing is wrong to make your move, but we both remember each other.

A sudden flare of defensive anger from Hannah. She says, "It was a mistake, alright? You're just gonna let this ruin us, Brit? Are you that fucking shallow?"

More tears, a sob even threatened to leave my throat. Am I pulling at your heartstrings, Joe? Does it pain you to see me suffering, like a wounded doe left to die with a bullet next to its heart? I hide my face and try to wipe away the tears that were threatening to destroy my makeup. Hannah did it for me before we came. She did a great job, didn't she, darling?

"Stop trying to make me feel bad. You fucked up, Hannah."

"So, what? You want me to leave? Don't do this, Britannia. Please."

Defeated. Vulnerable. Depressed. You like your girls like that. Don't you, Joe?

"I think it's best if you do."

Hannah shot up with the same passion as a volcano. She is seething, hits me with a hideous glare. I cower into my hoodie. Yankees. Are you a home team fan? "This is such bullshit, and you know it. I'm your best friend, you're going to let one drunk night ruin everything?"

"I need to process everything. I'll talk to you later tonight, Hannah. Text me when you get home so I'll know you got there safe."

Even in the midst of anguish, I still care about her wellbeing. I'll always love you, Joe. I'll always care. Even if you kill me, I'll forgive you and bless you with all my soul.

"This is bullshit, Britannia."

"We'll talk later, okay?"

Hannah, the clear definition of drama queen, stormed out of the bar with her high heels clicking as loud as thunder behind her. She is crying on her way out, swiping at her tears with an expression of contempt. She's good, I'll have to text her props later tonight, hopefully while you're asleep in my bed.

It took exactly twenty-six seconds for you to occupy the stool where Hannah sat and smile sympathetically at me. I hide, I'm ashamed. You make a joke, "Why did the bike fall over?"

I peek at you, and I can't contain the smile that pulls through my sullen, tearful face. I chuckle. "What?"

"Why did the bike fall over?" You repeat.

"Why?"

"It was two tired."

And I laugh, because the innocent humor of a corny joke was like the ambrosia of the gods in a time of crisis. You're a shred of light, my silver lining. God, how were you made so perfectly, Joe?

I push the hair from behind my ears and curtain my face. I like talking to you, but I'm still afraid to be seen. I'm an insecure nymph, love. Give me strength.

"Do you always have jokes on the disposal?"

"Only for sad, pretty girls. I don't like seeing beautiful woman upset."

Pretty. Beautiful. Do you really mean this, Joe? By the tender look in your eyes, I think you do. "Aren't you a charmer? Hey, did you save that Bukowski book for me tomorrow?" I giggle in an attempt to even my voice.

You laugh, and oh my lord Joe you're so gorgeous and pretty and perfect. Effortlessly perfect. You could be homeless with no hair and rotting teeth, and I'd still find you perfect. "So you do recognize me?"

"How could I not? You're the most charming man in New York."

Stroke of the ego. You love it. You love being told how great and special you are. "Well, I wouldn't go that far. But, since you did..." You pull the attention of the bartender. "Two shots of Makers?"

"You get right to the point, don't you?" I tease.

You smirk down at me. Your eyes scream sexual innuendo. You want me as bad as I want you. I imagine your tongue in my mouth when you lick your bottom lip, tasting my own and pulling yourself against me. I can feel your hard-on, Joe. Did you like my body in that red dress earlier? "I couldn't help but overhear the night you had, I figured you could use a drink."

"But why chose shots instead of something easy, like beer?" I want you to draw out this moment, explain yourself, tell me why you're so eager to get drunk with me.

That fucking smirk, Joe. I feel like I'm being murdered, you're pulling into my chest and grabbing my heart. You like to feel it beat against your skin. You like to feel in control. "Well, when I see a positive future, I suppose I get a bit excited to get started."

Oh, Joe. If only you knew that we've already gotten started. The game is coming to a close now, we're about to reach our climax. By that sexy smirk of yours, I know that you're ready.