This Means War

Hold My Beer

My trump card had been played. I thought for sure after the mariachi band following him around all day (including piling into the backseat of his car when he left) would be the end of it. He had assured me all was forgiven. For more than a week I lived in fear of his retaliation. I trusted nothing.

He had offered donuts the next day. I missed out thanks to my own paranoia. The crew indulged themselves while giving me confused looks. I thought for sure they had been tampered with. I was ultimately not only proven wrong, but I missed out on a sweet treat.

I watched my back. I double checked everything. I braced myself around every turn, always expecting his rebuttal, but he never retaliated. Had he really given up that easily?

After over a week of constant paranoia and his adamant reassurance that he had given up, I finally believed him. I truly thought I had my friend back, and the title of prank war champion to boot!

I should have known my victory was too easily won. He was an actor by trade; faking sincerity was easy for him. He had fallen back into our old ways so easily, offering to grab me a coffee on the way to set every morning, sitting and joking with me during breaks. He had even fallen asleep in my trailer during one of the more lengthy filming delays. Surely a man plotting revenge wouldn't be able to sleep in the company of his sworn enemy.

I hate to admit it, but I bought his act. I invited him back to my place for our usual routine of drinking and watching the worst horror movies we could find over the weekend. He seemed so excited, offering to be the one to pick up the movies from the video store.

We were halfway through the marathon when we first pried ourselves from the couch. I went to change from my more restrictive daytime clothing into my more comfortable pajamas while he went to the kitchen to pour more drinks. When I found him he was leaning against the counter, chuckling at something on his phone. I blame my lack of complete sobriety for not figuring out that he was plotting something.

"What's so funny?" I asked, glancing over his shoulder.

"It's a new internet challenge, I think. Kind of like when everyone was eating cinnamon forever ago?" He explained.

"What is it?" I asked, taking one of the drinks from the counter and sipping it.

"They're calling it the cup challenge. Here, let me show you!" He was so excited. So carefree. How could I be suspicious of him? "Hold out your hands!"

I obediently set my drink down and held my hands out. He pulled them out to their full extension and placed a cup on the back of both of them, making sure they were well balanced before stepping away.

"Ok, now what?" I asked, being careful to not spill any of the beverages he had placed on me. It was then I noticed his phone was aimed at me. My stomach dropped when I realized what I had gotten myself into.

"Now is when I thank you for hiring a mariachi band to follow me around all day. You know, Amanda still isn't talking to me." Sebastian explained, his blue eyes alight with mischief.

"I fucking hate you." I groaned, my arms already beginning to tire.

"Love you too." He laughed, leaning against the counter, his phone remaining trained on me as the cups began to shake from my rapidly weakening limbs.

"I just put on my nice warm pajamas." I whined, hoping to appeal to the gentleman in him.

"That wasn't planned, but it is a nice bonus." He snickered. All since of propriety was lost in our war. I knew I had no chance of escape. I jerked my hands up, hoping the cups would fall away from me. I was not so lucky. Both of them fell at my feet, soaking my fluffy socks as well as the bottom of my fuzzy pajama pants.

I could hear his laughter, loud and clear over the sound of my own heart sinking. My jammies were ruined for the evening. I gave him my most pathetic look and took off my now soaked sock and threw at him, my childish action only fueling his laughter.

"You're the worst!" I pouted as I stormed off, my single soaked sock squishing with each step. I vaguely remember hearing him yelling that I still loved him after me. Of course I did. He was one of my best friends. I just wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of telling him that at the time.

Besides, I had my petty revenge to plot.