Post by Syn on Mar 11, 2022 19:58:03 GMT
Syn sits on the couch in the NYC apartment her and Becky have been sharing pretty much since the night they first met. They’re relationship had been intense from the word go with the two quickly becoming enamored with one another. They pushed each other out of their comfort zone and that had been a good thing… until now. Now Syn sat scrunched up in a ball with a comforter wrapped around her to hide her regrettably blonde hair, thanks to a dust up at the salon with Rayven Hardy. Syn had sulked privately, she’d sulked publicly and now she was sulking silently. Why? Because Becky was nowhere to be found and therefore either couldn’t or wouldn’t listen. Syn growls softly and discards an empty box of Sour Patch Kids onto the floor. She’d pick it up later or never. Who cared?! She certainly didn’t. Why? Because everyone and everything sucked!
Her ears perk up at the sound of Becky’s keychain fumbling around in the lock outside their apartment. She had a MILLION keychains that would clink around and be a dead giveaway whenever she was home. As the door swings open, she hears the rustling of a brown paper bag, evidence that Becky had picked up food.
Becky: Hellooo?
Her voice was playful as the door slams behind her and sits the takeout bag on the table before turning around and locking the door.
Becky: Let me guess? Sitting on the couch, either on your phone or asleep?
Becky laughs and walks around to the sofa, spotting the blonde (for the moment) sitting there with a scowly expression on her face.
Becky: I got us subs and fries. Get your sexy ass up and let's eat.
Becky tries pulling off the couch but Syn gently and firmly pulls her arm back which causes Becky to look at her with a surprised expression. Becky was glowing as her glittery eyes closed and reopened, a surefire sign of confusion.
Becky: Ummm did you not want a sub?
Syn wordlessly mocks the question, mouthing it right back in Becky’s direction from beneath her comforter tent. Then she leers.
Syn: Where have you been?
Becky: I had business to take care of. Why am I getting the third fucking degree?
Becky pulls her shoes off and drops them on the floor next to the candy box that Syn so eloquently decorated the floor with moments earlier.
Becky: Are you still hung up over Rayven Hardy or whatever you were so mad about yesterday? Why are you letting her get into your head? Or is it Lily? You know, the one I asked you to let me handle and you insisted you were a big girl and I could leave you be. Well how did that work out? You don’t even read a contract, and now you want me to…nevermind. Look, I’m here for you. I brought us food so we could eat, but you’re worrying about the wrong things.
She once again tries to pry Syn from the couch but the mission is an epic failure as Syn keeps her butt plastered stubbornly in place.
Becky: Come on, I’m hungry!
A fire formed in Syn’s eyes and grew with each word Becky spoke. She stood suddenly, discarding the comforter to the floor and walking over to snatch up both sandwiches.
Syn: You know what, you’re right! I totally let everyone get in my head. I mean how dare I pretend I’m a… what was it? ….a big girl?
Syn threw the sandwiches down on the floor and immediately began stomping on them with both feet. As she jumped up and down on their dinner she continued to respond to Becky, loudly and angrily.
Syn: How… could… I… NOT… read… that… CONTRACT?!
When she finishes stomping she stares over at Becky through messy blonde bangs.
Syn: Fuck you.
Becky’s glittery eyes fix on the sandwiches on the floor as she keeps a calm, collected voice.
Becky: You realize you just stomped on food that could have gone to someone far less fortunate than us? I raised myself. On the streets. I had to sleep on couches, park benches, beg for food…and you want to stomp on those sandwiches because you’re upset with me? Sorry, some of us weren’t born with a silver spoon in their mouth. We didn’t get security escorts to the mall to spend thousands of dollars at Hot Topic, or whatever else you splurged. I can’t believe you.
Becky gets on her knees, puts a hand to the floor and pulls one of the now sloppy, mushed sandwiches. She lets the meat sift through her fingertips as it falls back to the floor. Her eyes move up to Syn with disdain.
Becky: What the fuck, dude. Seriously?
Syn just stares down at her, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she eyeballs Becky’s outfit.
Syn: Of course you’d think I shop at Hot Topic. Move!
She sort of boxes Becky out of the way as she scoops up the remnants of the sandwiches and carries them over to the window which she promptly opens before yelling outside at the top of her lungs.
Syn: HEY?! ANY OF YOU POOR UNFORTUNATE SOULS HUNGRY?!
Then she hurls the sandwich remains out the window and slams it shut, wiping her hands of both the sandwiches and the problem.
Syn: There. Satisfied?
Her tone now turns super condescending.
Syn: My people are nothing if not generous to your people. It makes for great photo ops.
For the first time since they started dating Becky looks at Syn with hurt in her eyes from something she had said. She refuses to cry, but the look on her face was enough to show Syn that those words stung. She pulls herself up from the carpeted floor and paces towards the table with purpose.
Becky: That was unnecessary. If you saw me as a charity case, you could have been up front about it. I’ll just leave. You don’t need to give the little homeless girl shelter anymore.
She pulls at her trademark locks and runs her fingers through her hair to try and calm her anxiety which was rapidly increasing by the second. She then walks past Syn, nearly knocking her over as she goes into the bedroom and begins to pull drawers completely out of the dresser so they bang on the floor, spilling panties and personal belongings. Becky kneels down and shovels her things from the drawer before kneeling a bit higher for the next drawer, pulling that from the dresser as well.
Syn leans against the doorframe and folds her arms, her eyes staring daggers as Becky packs.
Syn: You’d better not steal my vibrator. I know you use it when I’m not around because you always forget to charge it!!
Becky: I don’t want your fucking vibrator!
If they could REALLY hear each other right now, they would probably laugh, but they were both too caught up in the moment, too consumed by anger. Becky stands up after throwing a few things into an oversized purse she had sitting on the floor. Her makeup was running a bit as the tears were finally too much to hide. She wipes her cheek and sniffles before returning to the living room to look for something.
Becky: Where is my phone charger? Are you hiding it from me?
Syn rolls her eyes and walks over to the outlet in the corner of the room, the same outlet where Becky always charges her phone. She snatches up the charger and holds it in her hand.
Syn: You mean this charger? No, I’m not hiding it from you.
She then holds it behind her back, out of Becky’s immediate reach.
Syn: You realize that’s the ugliest purse ever, right? Did some homeless lady trade you for it or something?
Mean girl Syn was in full effect despite Becky’s tears which were now flowing even more. They seemed to bring out the most emotion in each other, for better or worse.
Becky was frozen, not even trying to grab the charger. Her hands tremble a bit as she drops the bag at her feet and pushes past Syn one more time. She slams the bedroom door so hard that a framed photo of Syn and her parents tumbles from the wall and crashes to the floor. Syn hears Becky scream bloody murder before walking over and yanking the door open to find Balfour on her knees again.
Becky: You say these things and it just shows me that we aren’t right for each other. You don’t understand me at my core, and I probably don’t understand you. I love you. So much. That’s why when you say things that other people have said my entire life, it actually hurts. I was able to block it out. Use it as motivation. I didn’t believe them. I couldn’t be trash. But it’s clear that you see me the same way everyone does. I can’t look at you right now.
Syn swallows hard.
Syn: Of course you can’t. You haven’t really looked at me in a couple of days because if you did you’d have to confront the fact that I was actually hurting and that would take your focus away from your job and your family. My words hurt, Bex? You walked in here and belittled everything I was upset about, even inferred that it was my fault because I didn’t step aside and let you handle it. Funny, you’re ready to step in and help when you think I can’t stand up for myself but the second I’m down and out and really need you you’re a goddamn ghost. Maybe we’re not right for each other because clearly I’m too much work for you. Which is fucked up when I see the patience you have with those people out there.
She points towards the windows.
Syn: Those people are way more fucked up than I am and you’re their champion. But you’re not mine. Do you know who stayed up half the night listening to me last night, Bex? Fucking Rayven, that’s who. Too bad Jack beat me to her, huh? Otherwise I’d have the perfect place to land since you’re obviously giving up on us. As for everything I just said, it was meant to hurt. Because it was targeted. Because I UNDERSTAND you. I knew exactly how to hurt you BECAUSE I know you so well. How do you hurt me? By making me feel small. By making me feel like I don’t matter. By making me feel like my problems are trivial… and maybe they fucking are. Maybe in the big picture my hair doesn’t really matter but what’s important is in the moment it matters to me. But I’m an inconvenience to you. My parents always wanted me to stand up straight and smile pretty at events. You want me to suck it up and fall in line just like they do. I’m sorry you’re crying but at least I care enough to know I’m hurting you.
Syn tosses Becky’s charger down on the bed and turns to leave the room.
Becky: Wait…
She looks up as Syn stops in the doorway, still facing away from Becky.
Becky: You’re right. I wasn’t paying attention. I was focused on other shit. You knew how to hurt me and I didn’t realize I was doing the same to you, unintentionally. Can we just…figure this out. Please?
Syn stands there, arms folded as she tries to maintain some semblance of cool but Becky can hear her voice start to crack.
Syn: Do you really think we’re not right for each other?
Becky: I know we’re right for each other. I was being dramatic. What about you?
She asks, not even sure she wants the answer. Her fingernails scratch at her pale arms leaving a red trail as she quickly moves her fingers to her mouth as she bites at her fingernails. The last thing she wanted was to lose Syn, who exhales and turns to face her.
Syn: I honestly don’t know. I’m A LOT. I think maybe I’m too much. I’m afraid my expectations are too much and you’re just gonna resent me. Before we even started fighting you were put off by my being in a bad mood. You wanted me over it. You wanted me to shut it down and put it away like I’m sure you do. But I’m not you. I’m not as tough as you. I wish I was.
Syn shrugs and swallows as tears begin to trace a path down her cheeks.
Becky: And I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been like that. I guess I was just thinking I was being sweet. Bringing us food. I was in a good mood. I thought you were over whatever happened yesterday but I should have taken the time to ask. Please.
She stands up and walks over to Syn and grabs her wrist, not aggressively, but desperately.
Becky: Please Syn…
Syn swallows ever harder and stares down at the floor, not because she didn’t want to look at Becky but because doing so would just make her cry more.
Syn: Stop saying, please. You don’t have to ask me for anything. I don’t want to lose you either. I’m just worried that I’m… too soft for you. I told you I was bipolar, Bex. My lows are sort of pathetic and I can’t just whisk them away with a sub or french fries.
Syn frowns.
Syn: Sorry about that by the way, that was stupid… and now I’m hungry.
Becky: I can go back out and get something else? You can pick whatever.
Noticing her eyes on the floor, Becky gently puts two fingers on her chin to tilt her head back up so that she could look her in her eyes.
Becky: I’ll work on things. I know I can be a bit cruel, or cold, or distant…and that we come from different places, but we’re here. Together. I’m sorry for how I acted. Can you forgive me? I’ll give you the vibrator back…
She can’t help but get a wide grin as her face was a trail of glitter from her tears. Syn snorts loudly at the vibrator comment and immediately wipes her nose with the back of her hand.
Syn: Classy, huh?
She draws a deep breath and then exhales.
Syn: I didn’t mean any of that stuff I said when we were fighting. I mean aside from the bag being ugly, that part was true. But I respect where you’ve come from and what you’ve done to get where you are and I appreciate that you have to be hard and cold and all that… but I really need to be the exception to that. I know you probably aren’t used to making exceptions but it would mean a lot to me if you tried. In return I’ll try to be more mindful of what you’re dealing with when I want your time and attention.
Becky: I didn’t mean what I said either. I get resentful sometimes. Seeing people with a solid family. It’s something I should have worked on years ago and I still struggle with it. I’ll make all the exceptions for you. And I’ll burn the bag.
She hugs Syn tightly as if she were afraid to let go.
Becky: I fucking hate crying…lets go get something to eat.
Syn nuzzles in against Becky’s chin and uses her thumb to wipe away some of the glitter that ran. She looks up into those deep blue eyes and kisses her softly, holding it for a moment before releasing. She bites her bottom lip and exhales before taking Becky by the hand and heading towards the kitchen.
Her ears perk up at the sound of Becky’s keychain fumbling around in the lock outside their apartment. She had a MILLION keychains that would clink around and be a dead giveaway whenever she was home. As the door swings open, she hears the rustling of a brown paper bag, evidence that Becky had picked up food.
Becky: Hellooo?
Her voice was playful as the door slams behind her and sits the takeout bag on the table before turning around and locking the door.
Becky: Let me guess? Sitting on the couch, either on your phone or asleep?
Becky laughs and walks around to the sofa, spotting the blonde (for the moment) sitting there with a scowly expression on her face.
Becky: I got us subs and fries. Get your sexy ass up and let's eat.
Becky tries pulling off the couch but Syn gently and firmly pulls her arm back which causes Becky to look at her with a surprised expression. Becky was glowing as her glittery eyes closed and reopened, a surefire sign of confusion.
Becky: Ummm did you not want a sub?
Syn wordlessly mocks the question, mouthing it right back in Becky’s direction from beneath her comforter tent. Then she leers.
Syn: Where have you been?
Becky: I had business to take care of. Why am I getting the third fucking degree?
Becky pulls her shoes off and drops them on the floor next to the candy box that Syn so eloquently decorated the floor with moments earlier.
Becky: Are you still hung up over Rayven Hardy or whatever you were so mad about yesterday? Why are you letting her get into your head? Or is it Lily? You know, the one I asked you to let me handle and you insisted you were a big girl and I could leave you be. Well how did that work out? You don’t even read a contract, and now you want me to…nevermind. Look, I’m here for you. I brought us food so we could eat, but you’re worrying about the wrong things.
She once again tries to pry Syn from the couch but the mission is an epic failure as Syn keeps her butt plastered stubbornly in place.
Becky: Come on, I’m hungry!
A fire formed in Syn’s eyes and grew with each word Becky spoke. She stood suddenly, discarding the comforter to the floor and walking over to snatch up both sandwiches.
Syn: You know what, you’re right! I totally let everyone get in my head. I mean how dare I pretend I’m a… what was it? ….a big girl?
Syn threw the sandwiches down on the floor and immediately began stomping on them with both feet. As she jumped up and down on their dinner she continued to respond to Becky, loudly and angrily.
Syn: How… could… I… NOT… read… that… CONTRACT?!
When she finishes stomping she stares over at Becky through messy blonde bangs.
Syn: Fuck you.
Becky’s glittery eyes fix on the sandwiches on the floor as she keeps a calm, collected voice.
Becky: You realize you just stomped on food that could have gone to someone far less fortunate than us? I raised myself. On the streets. I had to sleep on couches, park benches, beg for food…and you want to stomp on those sandwiches because you’re upset with me? Sorry, some of us weren’t born with a silver spoon in their mouth. We didn’t get security escorts to the mall to spend thousands of dollars at Hot Topic, or whatever else you splurged. I can’t believe you.
Becky gets on her knees, puts a hand to the floor and pulls one of the now sloppy, mushed sandwiches. She lets the meat sift through her fingertips as it falls back to the floor. Her eyes move up to Syn with disdain.
Becky: What the fuck, dude. Seriously?
Syn just stares down at her, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she eyeballs Becky’s outfit.
Syn: Of course you’d think I shop at Hot Topic. Move!
She sort of boxes Becky out of the way as she scoops up the remnants of the sandwiches and carries them over to the window which she promptly opens before yelling outside at the top of her lungs.
Syn: HEY?! ANY OF YOU POOR UNFORTUNATE SOULS HUNGRY?!
Then she hurls the sandwich remains out the window and slams it shut, wiping her hands of both the sandwiches and the problem.
Syn: There. Satisfied?
Her tone now turns super condescending.
Syn: My people are nothing if not generous to your people. It makes for great photo ops.
For the first time since they started dating Becky looks at Syn with hurt in her eyes from something she had said. She refuses to cry, but the look on her face was enough to show Syn that those words stung. She pulls herself up from the carpeted floor and paces towards the table with purpose.
Becky: That was unnecessary. If you saw me as a charity case, you could have been up front about it. I’ll just leave. You don’t need to give the little homeless girl shelter anymore.
She pulls at her trademark locks and runs her fingers through her hair to try and calm her anxiety which was rapidly increasing by the second. She then walks past Syn, nearly knocking her over as she goes into the bedroom and begins to pull drawers completely out of the dresser so they bang on the floor, spilling panties and personal belongings. Becky kneels down and shovels her things from the drawer before kneeling a bit higher for the next drawer, pulling that from the dresser as well.
Syn leans against the doorframe and folds her arms, her eyes staring daggers as Becky packs.
Syn: You’d better not steal my vibrator. I know you use it when I’m not around because you always forget to charge it!!
Becky: I don’t want your fucking vibrator!
If they could REALLY hear each other right now, they would probably laugh, but they were both too caught up in the moment, too consumed by anger. Becky stands up after throwing a few things into an oversized purse she had sitting on the floor. Her makeup was running a bit as the tears were finally too much to hide. She wipes her cheek and sniffles before returning to the living room to look for something.
Becky: Where is my phone charger? Are you hiding it from me?
Syn rolls her eyes and walks over to the outlet in the corner of the room, the same outlet where Becky always charges her phone. She snatches up the charger and holds it in her hand.
Syn: You mean this charger? No, I’m not hiding it from you.
She then holds it behind her back, out of Becky’s immediate reach.
Syn: You realize that’s the ugliest purse ever, right? Did some homeless lady trade you for it or something?
Mean girl Syn was in full effect despite Becky’s tears which were now flowing even more. They seemed to bring out the most emotion in each other, for better or worse.
Becky was frozen, not even trying to grab the charger. Her hands tremble a bit as she drops the bag at her feet and pushes past Syn one more time. She slams the bedroom door so hard that a framed photo of Syn and her parents tumbles from the wall and crashes to the floor. Syn hears Becky scream bloody murder before walking over and yanking the door open to find Balfour on her knees again.
Becky: You say these things and it just shows me that we aren’t right for each other. You don’t understand me at my core, and I probably don’t understand you. I love you. So much. That’s why when you say things that other people have said my entire life, it actually hurts. I was able to block it out. Use it as motivation. I didn’t believe them. I couldn’t be trash. But it’s clear that you see me the same way everyone does. I can’t look at you right now.
Syn swallows hard.
Syn: Of course you can’t. You haven’t really looked at me in a couple of days because if you did you’d have to confront the fact that I was actually hurting and that would take your focus away from your job and your family. My words hurt, Bex? You walked in here and belittled everything I was upset about, even inferred that it was my fault because I didn’t step aside and let you handle it. Funny, you’re ready to step in and help when you think I can’t stand up for myself but the second I’m down and out and really need you you’re a goddamn ghost. Maybe we’re not right for each other because clearly I’m too much work for you. Which is fucked up when I see the patience you have with those people out there.
She points towards the windows.
Syn: Those people are way more fucked up than I am and you’re their champion. But you’re not mine. Do you know who stayed up half the night listening to me last night, Bex? Fucking Rayven, that’s who. Too bad Jack beat me to her, huh? Otherwise I’d have the perfect place to land since you’re obviously giving up on us. As for everything I just said, it was meant to hurt. Because it was targeted. Because I UNDERSTAND you. I knew exactly how to hurt you BECAUSE I know you so well. How do you hurt me? By making me feel small. By making me feel like I don’t matter. By making me feel like my problems are trivial… and maybe they fucking are. Maybe in the big picture my hair doesn’t really matter but what’s important is in the moment it matters to me. But I’m an inconvenience to you. My parents always wanted me to stand up straight and smile pretty at events. You want me to suck it up and fall in line just like they do. I’m sorry you’re crying but at least I care enough to know I’m hurting you.
Syn tosses Becky’s charger down on the bed and turns to leave the room.
Becky: Wait…
She looks up as Syn stops in the doorway, still facing away from Becky.
Becky: You’re right. I wasn’t paying attention. I was focused on other shit. You knew how to hurt me and I didn’t realize I was doing the same to you, unintentionally. Can we just…figure this out. Please?
Syn stands there, arms folded as she tries to maintain some semblance of cool but Becky can hear her voice start to crack.
Syn: Do you really think we’re not right for each other?
Becky: I know we’re right for each other. I was being dramatic. What about you?
She asks, not even sure she wants the answer. Her fingernails scratch at her pale arms leaving a red trail as she quickly moves her fingers to her mouth as she bites at her fingernails. The last thing she wanted was to lose Syn, who exhales and turns to face her.
Syn: I honestly don’t know. I’m A LOT. I think maybe I’m too much. I’m afraid my expectations are too much and you’re just gonna resent me. Before we even started fighting you were put off by my being in a bad mood. You wanted me over it. You wanted me to shut it down and put it away like I’m sure you do. But I’m not you. I’m not as tough as you. I wish I was.
Syn shrugs and swallows as tears begin to trace a path down her cheeks.
Becky: And I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been like that. I guess I was just thinking I was being sweet. Bringing us food. I was in a good mood. I thought you were over whatever happened yesterday but I should have taken the time to ask. Please.
She stands up and walks over to Syn and grabs her wrist, not aggressively, but desperately.
Becky: Please Syn…
Syn swallows ever harder and stares down at the floor, not because she didn’t want to look at Becky but because doing so would just make her cry more.
Syn: Stop saying, please. You don’t have to ask me for anything. I don’t want to lose you either. I’m just worried that I’m… too soft for you. I told you I was bipolar, Bex. My lows are sort of pathetic and I can’t just whisk them away with a sub or french fries.
Syn frowns.
Syn: Sorry about that by the way, that was stupid… and now I’m hungry.
Becky: I can go back out and get something else? You can pick whatever.
Noticing her eyes on the floor, Becky gently puts two fingers on her chin to tilt her head back up so that she could look her in her eyes.
Becky: I’ll work on things. I know I can be a bit cruel, or cold, or distant…and that we come from different places, but we’re here. Together. I’m sorry for how I acted. Can you forgive me? I’ll give you the vibrator back…
She can’t help but get a wide grin as her face was a trail of glitter from her tears. Syn snorts loudly at the vibrator comment and immediately wipes her nose with the back of her hand.
Syn: Classy, huh?
She draws a deep breath and then exhales.
Syn: I didn’t mean any of that stuff I said when we were fighting. I mean aside from the bag being ugly, that part was true. But I respect where you’ve come from and what you’ve done to get where you are and I appreciate that you have to be hard and cold and all that… but I really need to be the exception to that. I know you probably aren’t used to making exceptions but it would mean a lot to me if you tried. In return I’ll try to be more mindful of what you’re dealing with when I want your time and attention.
Becky: I didn’t mean what I said either. I get resentful sometimes. Seeing people with a solid family. It’s something I should have worked on years ago and I still struggle with it. I’ll make all the exceptions for you. And I’ll burn the bag.
She hugs Syn tightly as if she were afraid to let go.
Becky: I fucking hate crying…lets go get something to eat.
Syn nuzzles in against Becky’s chin and uses her thumb to wipe away some of the glitter that ran. She looks up into those deep blue eyes and kisses her softly, holding it for a moment before releasing. She bites her bottom lip and exhales before taking Becky by the hand and heading towards the kitchen.