The Write Match // Bill Hader

Twelve

I wake up to my curtains opened, the sunlight pouring in, and I groan. I drank way too much, and I know that now, but I didn't care at all last night. I sit up, and see a bottle of Tylenol, a bottle of water, and a note that says "Please come to my apartment when you wake up. We need to talk. -Bill"

I get dressed, putting on the clothes I had on last night, even though I don't remember taking them off, but I honestly don't remember anything. I take a deep breath before leaving my apartment and going to his. I hail a cab and give the driver is address.

I don't even remember why Bill was in my apartment last night or whenever he was. I know I embarrassed myself, but I don't exactly remember what I did, but I'm having small flashbacks. John was there, and I know some girl was involved. I pay for my cab, and buzz into Bill's apartment, and even though I only waited for a few seconds, it felt like forever. I knock on his apartment door, and he's in front of me with a t-shirt and pajama pants on, and he gives me a smile.

"I'm surprised to see you up and going this early." He crosses his arms, and I give him a blank stare.

"Why do you need to talk to me?" I ask and he laughs, opening his door up for me to come in.

"I knew you wouldn't remember; we'll talk." I walk in, keeping my arms crossed over my chest. "Is there anything you do remember?" He asks, and I sit on his couch.

"John was there, a bottle of red wine, and some girl." I tell him, and he laughs.

"Erica." He says, shaking his head and I shake mine.

"No, I know who Erica is, she was the girl that stopped me after work yesterday. I'm talking about another girl." I look at him and he's laughing now.

"You are talking about Erica, but you wouldn't say her name. I don't know if you wouldn't say her name because you actually couldn't remember her name or if you were doing it on purpose because you were jealous." He shrugs, and I scowl as soon as he says the words.

"I'm not jealous, Bill Hader. I don't even know why you would say that. Erica was nice." I shrug, and he lets his hands fall to the side.

"She's nice? Really Meredith, that's the word you're using to describe her, that's how I know you don't like her." He argues back and I sigh.

"You're right, I don't like her. She was rude when I was just trying to help her. So, what if I don't like her, it doesn't mean I'm jealous." I fight back.

"Meredith, I can tell who you like and don't like." He sighs.

"What is that supposed to mean?" I ask, getting defensive.

"You told me how stupid I was because I couldn't see that you like me, and I don't know what the hell that means-" I cut him off, not caring what he has to say.

"I don't like you. I was drunk, you know it wasn't true." I look down, and he lets out a laugh, but this laugh is dry.

"Of course, you're denying it, I don't know why I thought you would actually tell me the truth." His voice is cold, and I shrug my shoulders.

"I don't know why you believe it. I've made it obvious how I feel, and you don't understand." I stand, throwing my hands to my side.

"Why are you here? Why do you keep coming to me if you hate me?" He sounds upset, but he never raises his voice.

"Because I know we needed to talk and I know we won't be able to work together if we're arguing, after all we're-" He cuts me off.

"Don't you dare say coworkers. Stop saying that because you know it's not true. We've been here before, and we both know it's not true. We keep playing this sick game." He speaks quickly and sits down as I stay standing.