In the Life of a Rose

October 1, 2020

In the Life of a Rose...

I had rarely talked to Chris since his nudes came out. He had put his bullshit on me and I had stopped caring. The only times I needed to speak to him is if he was going to the store or if he was in my way and I would say excuse me. We never stayed in the same vicinity for more than five minutes so I stayed away from him and vice versa.

The thing that really pissed me off is that he wanted the intimacy that I had refused to bring into the situation. I later had said that he should find better friends and that was what he did.

Last week, he finally spoke and told me that his friend, Minka, was coming over. He was well aware of how I felt about people coming inside during a pandemic just as I was cautious about going outside. He said that she was going to take tests and all of the above to not have me worried. The only thing I could say about it was that I'd stay in my room; I'd stay out of their way and save myself if she was carrying the virus.

I remember the evening she arrived. I didn't greet her or anything, I just listened with my ear close to the wall. Chris told her that his roommate was asleep and wouldn't bother them which was true and I could hear them laughing and talking as they watched tv.

I recoiled into my bed, missing Dodger who was on the other side of the house, and began watching The Devil All the Time to criticize and write a report. Even though I was on the Academy Awards committee, that title was only active the few months before the ceremony while the rest of the year was my regular job. I had thought it was biased to be watching films and later not setting them for an award until I realized the rest of the committee did the same thing; some even created films.

My heart sank when the light in the bathroom turned on and I looked at the door handle to see that it wasn't locked. I silently began praying that she wouldn't open my door because people were nosey, and I didn't want her to see me.

My breathing had returned to its normal pace when the toilet flushed and the lights turned off, leaving me in my peace.

"Isn't your roommate hella famous?" I heard Minka ask in a low voice and I didn't know what Chris responded. "I've heard about her. For this show I was in, Titans, she made this entire report about it."

"Yeah, that's what she does," I heard him say. "She does much more than that."

"Like what?"

"Eh, let's not talk about it. Let's watch the movie." They continued to talk, the movie playing in the background.

"Hey, Chris?" she began. "I'm really sorry about what happened the other day."

"It-it's whatever."

To me, it was whatever. It was whatever he said it was because it wasn't my problem, it was his. If he said he was fine then he was and I didn't care.

They began moving around, the floorboards creaking, and their footsteps made a sound all the way to Chris's room. My palm slapped my forehead that they were going to fuck down the hallway.

I plugged in my AirPods and started playing Shoreline Mafia's Caribbean with its bass that blew in my ears. I began dancing around my room, feeling like a SoundCloud rapper, holding up a fake gun talking about bitches, drugs, and money; I only had one of those.

After a few minutes of listening to a variety of music, I had to find the next switch to drown out their noise. It was mostly of her moaning, asking him to go harder. The only hard thing that was going on was the best drop of Bellyache.

"'My V's for vendetta, thought that I'd feel better, and now I got a bellyache,'" I whispered along to the lyrics. I even played the song again to reminisce in the words. Copycat was next and then My Strange Addiction. "'No, Billie, I haven't done that dance since my wife died.'"

A quick transition after that went straight to Baila Morena by Julio Iglesias. "'Baila morena, baila, que tú lo bailas como ninguna,'" I softly sang. I began to belly dance, moving around the room dancing to the sound of the song. I had taught myself to dance like this after watching so many Shakira videos. I wasn't surprised when Hips Don't Lie came on.

It came to the part of the bridge and the version I had added the parts of the live performance where she danced and the cultural beat came in. I knew the entire dance by memory and did it, motioning my hands around my stomach as my hips had a mind of their own.

When the song finished, the twinkling sound of Dreaming of You came on. I sat down and laid back, listening to the lyrics. They were about romance and thinking about anything romantic made me sad. "'I'll be dreaming of you tonight,'" I whispered, only saying the things I cared about. "'And there's no where in the world I'd rather be...'"

I Could Fall in Love was now killing my soul. The universe was trying to tell me that I was falling in love with someone but I knew it wasn't right. My brain was willing me not to do it. I skipped the song so I wouldn't have to cry and quietly groaned, pounding on the bed when the sound of a mariachi came on and I knew it was Selena's worst but best song No Me Queda Más. I really had nothing left.

My emotions quickly changed when I Love it When You Cry by Steve Aoki and Moxie started playing. I sprung up and started pulling my arms up twirling them around. I had LED lights in my room and turned them on so they could flash as I enjoyed my minor rave.

I didn't mean to be a bitch when I laughed at the lyrics: 'I love it when you cry, the tears bring out your eyes.' At this point, I was starting not to give a shit.

————————

It was mid-afternoon that I knew Chris' guest was truly gone and I stepped out of my cave, the red lights on as I closed the door. The sun was still bright and I shielded my eyes from it.

"I had so much fun last night," I said, more words than I had spoken to him in past few weeks. "I felt like a teenager blasting music because her parents weren't home."

"Same."

"No," I exhaled, shaking my head. "You weren't playing music."

"Oh, fuck, Thea."

"Drop a comma and it'll mean something else," I grinned, pouring myself some tea. There was coffee in the machine because he hadn't gotten over his hangover.

"What are you trying to say? Does it bother you? Are you..." he couldn't find the word. "Jealous?"

"Mmm no, definitely not. I'd say that... actually never mind."

"Say it," he urged. He stood in the way of me going to the living room from the kitchen. "Say it."

"It would be a waste of my breath." I pushed him out of the way but then he caught onto my wrist, yanking me back.

"You're being a real bitch, you know that, right?"

I used the arm he was gripping onto and shoved it against his chest, pressing him into the wall. "And you're being such a whore. Sometimes I even think that you posted that bullshit on purpose for clout and then made this entire scene."

"W-w?"

"You're an actor. Everything you say can be a fucking lie. The shit you've been pulling for the past couple of days is absolutely insane. I don't even know who you are anymore."

We let go over each other and I walked backward, keeping my eyes on him until I made a safe distance away from him. He stared at me and I didn't know what to make of his expression. All I knew was that we would return to not speaking anymore.