Asystole ✷ Mark Sloan

𝟬𝟮𝟯 addison and derek

𝙓𝙓𝙄𝙄𝙄.
ADDISON AND DEREK

──────

NEW YORK

I HATE SPEED dating.

There's just something so menial about it, the action of sitting there and pretending to be interested in some guy- his little perky pec badge told me that his name was Liam and that he was 29 and liked drawing smiley faces after his name- all while getting slightly buzzed off of cheap alcohol.

There must have been a good thirty or so people in this bar, everyone conversing lightly as the overplayed March 1994 charts drilled a tune into the air.

Liam was the fourteenth out of the fifteen I'd meet tonight; he was reasonably attractive but had this extremely over-zealous feel to him- ever since he'd sat down into his seat, he'd started mansplaining the most pointless things to me.

I stared at him with heavy-eyelids as I stirred my wine with a twist of my wrist. I hummed along to "The Sign" by Ace of Base, wondering when Liam's ten minutes would be up.

Ever so often, I'd glance over towards the co-ordinator: a perky blonde called Linda that kept downing mimosas like they were going out of fashion, all while spinning some pretty basic tunes on a deck.

"So Addison, what do you do for a career?"

Liam had been so absorbed within his own little world that it'd taken him seven minutes to draw the conversation back towards me. I raised my eyebrows, gently placing down my wine glass and tilting my head to the side.

He seemed oblivious to a little incredulous scoff that slipped through my lips as I leant back in my chair.

Oh, and then there was the name...

These places made me feverishly uncomfortable and I'd been pulling names out of my ass every time I came here. Last month I'd been on a Britney kick, in lieu of Britney Spears and last week I'd gone for something more sophisticated.

I doubted that I looked anything like Gwyneth Paltrow, but it seemed to work out. But this time, this evening-- I'd drawn a blank.

I'd grimaced to myself as I'd written out that little tag name, pressing it haphazardly onto my boob, but then chuckled with a slightly maniacal power. If only Addison knew what trouble she was getting up to.

"I'm a student, about to finish my first year of medical school."

"That's cool," He said, "good for you, I went to Stanford, class of '92. Full ride scholarship to study Business."

I took a long drag of my wine. "Wow."

I wasn't exactly sure how to convey my disinterest, that little girl from Connecticut inside of me still felt pretty sorry for everyone that failed at dating.

After all, I'd been at it for nearly eight months and I was still unable to get a second date from anyone. Liam was just narcissistic and just a tiny bit misogynistic (he'd commented on Toni Braxton when Linda spun "Breathe Again" with a very brief but prominent scowl on his face that didn't settle well for me) but he had nice teeth, so that was a positive.

I'd been trying that lately, trying to be more positive about my dating life.

It wasn't working.

Liam was self-conceited but he had a nice shirt. Liam was a little tiny bit creepy but he mentioned that he liked Degrassi. Liam wore a horrendous amount of cologne but...