--Nick’s POV—
I wasn’t surprised when I woke up to find Anita leaning over me. I wasn’t surprised to find her eyes focused on Jamie and I, still lying curled together. I wasn’t surprised to see anger on her face.
I roll to my feet, and look at her smoothly. “Hello, Anita. Long time no see.”
She grasps my hand tightly in hers, and the small woman drags me with her out of the room, leaving Jamie there fast asleep still. “What are you doing, Nick?” She asks, her voice taut.
“You’re my ex-wife. You shouldn’t be asking these questions.” I reply calmly, meeting her gaze peacefully.
She looks at me coldly, her brilliant blue eyes filled with anger, “You are an asshole, you know that? That’s Jamie, isn’t it? The straight kid you seduced?”
I flinched.
She knew?
--Anita’s POV—
How could he think that I didn’t know? How could he think that he could never return my calls, never reply to my messages, and still expect me to not have my ways to find out all about him? He just never thought I was that talented. After that night, I’d been keeping track of him, Logan, Jamie, Ann—all of them. I was a player in the game that eventful night, its ruler.
Why?
That house they had been in that eventful night had been mine.
And I had every last room bugged with cameras and microphones.
Nick and I had been married eight months before he started sneaking off, coming up with excuses as to where he is, why he never comes back until late, late, late at night, and why he was always freshly showered. Sick of being lied to, I spoke with Her, and She and I figured it out. So to catch Nick in the act, I had him followed.
When I caught him in the act, he spills the truth, I divorce him, and he begs for my forgiveness but I never give it. I shove him away, kick him out.
But then a while passes, and She and I realize how messed up our situation is. Her relationship with Logan is failing because She longs for Jamie, and he for Her. Logan and Jamie become tense and distant, still friends and still close but yet far away. And then Ann steps back into the picture, and Logan, hurting and needing comfort, flees right into his ex-lover’s arms.
Her and I speak about this, about all of this, and we decide—One night. One night of all the secrets revealed, every room bugged, every drink drugged. She was the one who had wanted to do this—She didn’t know it would result in Her death.
Invite all of them here, hit the Record button, sit back and let the insanity unfold.
We knew Logan would slip into the closet with Ann, knew that Jamie would come to find him and force him to confront Her and come clean for everything he’s done. That much was expected.
But what wasn’t expected was how Jamie had gone, right before slipping off to find Logan, into the arms of a weeping and broken Nick. Jamie had comforted him, they’d wept together, and Jamie and Nick had eventually slept together. That was definitely not what had been expected.
Was Jamie gay? Perhaps. Either way, it doesn’t matter now.
What we also didn’t expect was what transpired on the balcony that night.
Jamie had forced Logan up there, and then followed him. I had followed them until I could watch the events unfold but not be seen, and hoped that things would go well.
They didn’t.
When Jamie arrived on the scene, things had already been heated. Her and Logan were hurling accusations, insults, almost trading blows. Jamie stepped in, tried to calm things down. For a while it worked, but then Nick came up out of nowhere, told Her what had happened between Jamie and him, and the fight began anew and Logan turned on Jamie, disgusted by what he had done. Jamie pleads for the understanding of his best friend, but Logan slaps him across the face. Nick, enraged, attacks Logan. She tries to stop them, tries to pull them apart. Ann, drawn by the sounds of fighting, arrives on the scene. She sees Ann, hurls Herself at her, accusing her of stealing Logan. Logan accuses Jamie of stealing Her, and the fight goes on.
Eventually, I step in, and calm things down a bit.
But a bit isn’t enough.
Nick, torn and hurting, flees the scene. She, watching Her best friend abandon Her when She needs him most, steps onto the railing. Logan begs Her not to, tells Her to stop, that he loves Her and only Her. Ann flees as well, not able to hear the man she loves confess his love to another. Jamie slaps Logan across the face for hurting his sister, and then the fight explodes again. I try to stop it, but I can’t and neither of them notice until it is far too late that She is slipping forward, falling, falling, falling….
All of them have blocked the memories from their minds. Too drunk and drugged for the memories to be in their minds, anyways.
Nick doesn’t remember coming to my house that night. Jamie doesn’t remember him and Nick, nor the events on the balcony. All Ann remembers is seeing Logan and then Jamie going up to the balcony, and then seeing Her fall.
What does She Herself remember? Perhaps all of it. But me? I just have the film.
--Jamie’s POV—
I almost jumped when I woke up. Nick was gone, and I could hear voices from the next room. Not a good sign, never a good sign….
Especially when one of the voices sounded angry.
I creep closer, curiosity winning easily over my minor sense of judgment, and I kneel by the faintly opened door:
“…a fool. Jamie is straight—you know that. Why do you keep someone who doesn’t love you around?” The voice that spoke was high and flooded with righteous anger—definitely female. I couldn’t place the source, but a bit of me recognized it, remembering some voicemails I’d occasionally come across on Nick’s machine. Annie? Annabelle? Something like that….
“He loves me and he needs me. I can see that when I look into his eyes!” the conversation was starting to shake me—they were talking about me. The woman seemed to be trying to get him to get rid of me, and let me go, while Nick seemed defensive. But….Apparently he knew I was straight. Dammit, I had thought I had been a better liar….
“He’s straight, damn you. I don’t care if he ‘loves’ you. The desire you have for him is not the desire he has for you.”
“What am I supposed to do, just throw him out on the street? The poor kid doesn’t seem to have anywhere else to go!”
“You should send him to a homeless shelter—if he’s been living on the streets, god knows who he knows and what kind of diseases he’s carrying. Do you want a new AIDS virus?”
“Look, Anita, I love Jamie and I don’t care if he loves me back. I just want him to be safe!”
“And what about YOUR safety, huh? I don’t want the kids to have to grow up without a father!”
“With-without a father? Are you kidding me? Just because Jamie is going through a difficult time doesn’t mean he’s an axe murderer.”
“Look….Just get him to someplace where he can properly being taken care of instead of having to pay for his food with his body.”
“I’m not throwing him out. Just because you had no trouble tossing me out on the street doesn’t mean all people are like that.”
And that’s right about when I stop being able to stand to listen to this conversation. I get up, trying to be as silent as I can, and slip back to bed.
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