War of the Roses

Scene Two

Schmoozing, the unwavering art of untrue flattery for the purpose of securing a job or status. That's all I can think of as I watch a trio of blondes giggle at a guy none of them could possibly be interested in. He's plain looking but wearing expensive clothes and what seems like an equally expensive watch. His shoes look like he has insoles in them to give him some added height. Why would I think that? I saw him adjusting one when he got out of the car. He twirls the FOB to his Aston Martin, which seems to be doubling as a hypnotist's pendulum for the girls. One of them goes so far as to touch his arm flirtatiously which sets the other two off. In a passive aggressive way, of course.

While I'm hardly interested in joining the group conversation it is at the very least entertaining to watch the lengths people will go to get what they want.

"Andi, Andi, Andi!" Greg shouts from far to close.

Startled, my drink sloshes onto my hand as I turn to greet the town crier and host. Before I can say anything though Greg wraps me in a big hug overwhelming me with the fruity smell of margaritas.

"Greg, let go." I say firmly.

He does and I get a better idea of why his greeting was more boisterous than usual. His eyes are starting to show the red of too much of a good thing and the cup he's carrying is almost empty. But there's no way it's his first.

"Always so direct Andi. That's why I like you. But don't tell anyone." He jabs a finger into my clavicle to make his point before putting his arm around my shoulder to survey the latest in entertainment. "Where's Jen? She's late." he mutters into his cup as he finishes off his drink.

From anyone else I'd be offended but Greg and I are as close as two people can be in LA, without being romantically interested in each other. We've had real conversations during our time together on set; we've bonded. While the two of us may not be a thing I'm still rooting for him and Jen. Once Greg decides he actually wants a committed relationship though. 

From the outside in I imagine our trio of friends looks rather funny. Where Jen is sweet, overly polite, and guarded Greg is boisterous, free, and a little too attention seeking. If he misses out on a gig or leaves a trail of devastated hearts behind him he shrugs it off good naturedly. No one can stay mad at him for very long either. He's too likeable. I am practically the polar opposite of him, which is what makes us such good friends. In small doses.

"Great party Greg. You've definitely collected quite the crowd tonight." I compliment.

Greg looks at me with a slight pout. "You're not going to bail already are you?

"Jen promised she'd be here like an hour ago. There's not much point in staying, we both know I'm not going to schmooze with anyone here."

"But you promised you'd come and party. Your shoulders are telling me you, have not, partied." Greg removes his arm from around me to start shimmyin his shoulders back and forth making faces at me. Always willing to be the fool for a laugh. I can't help but smile though. Greg is contagious. Laughing I let him pull me over to a large grassy area where several people are swaying to the background music.

Gesturing at the DJ, Greg gets the music quickly switched to something more pumped up, causing the swayers to begin moving. He lets go of my hand to grab two girls hanging out on the fringe and spins them together towards the middle of what's quickly growing into a blob of buzzed dancers. Smiling, I move to the music watching the way Greg energizes those around him. Without any effort he's turned a patch of grass into a mini-Coachella. Jealousy flickers deep in my stomach. Some people have things so easy. Before I can dwell on it anymore Jen waves at me from outside the circle laughing. Greg appears next to her grinning too. Playing it up I shimmy my shoulders in their direction, hands outstretched like a dancer from Mama Mia.