Work Text:
“You’ve got a dirty photo.” Quinn notifies you, as you stole your phone from under her nose. You two were in her office with half-eaten snacks and mock-up posters. You had run numbers all morning so it would be ready for the upcoming meeting this afternoon. Where you were currently double checking thing and not looking at your phone, giving Quinn the perfect moment to gaze at your notification.
“Why does no one understand privacy!” You snap back irritated but open the text to see your secret crush had sent you her boobs, nipples peaking out of an expensive bra. Forgetting about the numbers for the poop movie.
“Jeezus, you look like you’re about to orgasm.” Quinn half laughs but seems jealous too. Having no love life and only fiction to keep her warm. “Where did you two meet?”
The text under the photo reads;
GougeGucci555: ‘Babygirl I can’t believe how hard you made Mommy cum last night. You’re all I’ll think about all day long. Just like everyday now.’
“We haven’t.” You close your phone, but itch to walk away so you can text back heart eyes and water emojis. Not wanting to leave your love on read for too long.
You’d come to meet with Quinn partially to figure out what this meeting was headed, but also hoping she had some kind of fan in her office. The whole lots AC was out with this little heat wave, global fucking warming. You were ready to roll up your black jeans to your knees like you were at the beach.
As you did girl talk, you wished you hadn’t worn a sweater with only a tank top underneath now.
“You’re sharing dirty pics with a stranger?” Quinn drops her iPad down on her desk to gawk at you.
You had no shame, not when it came to her.
“I’m not 20 anymore, this isn’t like that. We met on a dating sight. We didn’t get photos, it’s been months of texting….I know her…Fuck she knows me better than anyone…” You smile and stare into space until Quin snaps her fingers bringing you back.
“She knows you better than anyone, but doesn’t know what you look like?” Quinn’s disbelief doesn’t stop your love-dovey giddy attitude.
You smile honestly, then nod.
“We talk 24/7, but I’ve never called her on the phone. I don’t know her name or what she does for a living. We sext, sending body pics but never face…”
“So catfishing?” Quinn puts her manicured hand out to stop you.
“It’s been 5 months of the best conversation of my life.” You mean it, you really do. You hadn’t gone on any dates, too absorbed in this online relationship.
Quinn's disbelief was only building. As Continental Studios workers walked by her glass window, she grilled you harder.
“This is fucked, you need to date normally. This is just weird, you’re too pretty to do this. Only catfishing and teenager do this type of shit. Where does she even live?” Quinn grabbed a file and started to fan herself from the heat.
“L.A, and I know she’s in her 50’s and I know we love the same movie and same foods, I know all about her childhood and what makes her upset at work. I know how she likes to be licked.” You lean forward, making Quinn blush and push you away.
“This is fucked, why don’t you date your real soulmate!” Quinn's infamous bad matchmaking skills did nothing to change your mind. But you looked up as though thinking of this ‘real soulmate’.
“Because Anne Bancroft is dead.” You pout broken hearted and Quinn doesn’t let you side track. You pull your hair into a pony tail, sweat running down the back of your neck.
“You and Maya! You two fighting is like flirting on fire. Sometimes I get wet when I watch.” Quinn admits which is more sad then anything else said.
You open your phone to see tiddies once more then gaze back at your work friend.
You scrunch your nose at her. Leaning back in your seat to check your Apple Watch.
“I would never. Maya is a restraining order with legs. She’s crazy, you don’t fuck crazy. Besides, we don’t like each other, we hate each other.” It was unsettling to even you that this fact wasn’t the first part of your reason for it being a no go. You should have said you weren’t attracted to her, or that it would never work. These reasons now seemed too thin, making even your work friend disbelieving.
Quinn shakes her head and pulls her phone out to check the time too.
“Hate and love look really close, is all I’m saying. Besides, you two are everyone’s power couple on this lot. Sales and Marketing together, you are two bombshells! I heard there’s even a pool going for how long it’ll take before you get together, starting in mailing.”
You scoff at the absurdity of it as both of you stand. Collecting your bag, putting your computer and ipads in them, you can’t believe Quinn would bring this up.
“It’s only because we’re both openly queer, if Sal came out they’d have a bet on his life too.” Again the reason seems thin, and you start to wonder why Maya hadn’t rained down actual Hell on mailing for doing this.
“Maya is in love with you, she just doesn’t know how to express positive emotions. It’s why she does therapy once a week and not once a month.”
You push open the glass office door and arch an eyebrow at her, but she ignores your confusion on how she knows such things.
“And no one wants to make bets on Sal’s life, we’re all amazed he hasn’t choked on his own spit. But seriously, just witness the love she has for you for two seconds…Open your mind to it, the love-” Quinns tone is beginning to be sing songy - like you two were disney princesses or something.
“You make it sound like some rom com trope!”
You cackle at the idea of it all, even if your heart tugs just a little.
By the time you all are in the conference room waiting for Maya and Matt to get out a zoom call with Griffin, Sal plops down in front of you.
“I heard Maya’s texting a honey, how are you taking it lesbian?” He asks, knowing your name well.
“How do you know they’re not talking to each other?” Patty weighs in and you glare at her.
“We hate each other.” You remind them but everyone just seems unbelieving, you take your phone out once more - like you’re addicted to the dopamine of her.
“What’s her online name?” Quinn asks and you turn upset to her now.
“What online tag names are really important! Maybe you even know her!” Quinn argues but then Patty starts talking about how Hollywood was before online chat rooms and dating and you tune out.
Her online name was GougeGucciGoddess555, but you were not about to share that. No fucking way were you telling any of them that.
Tuning out their bickering you are glad the anti glare on your glasses makes it so they can’t read what you’re looking at.
Because as you hide your phone, acting like some stupid teenager. Looking back on messages, knowing she was busy, but looking at how you two had sexted until early hours of the morning. You’d taken some good photos, your hand down your panties, you spreading yourself open as the wetness reflected on the light. Your clit begging for her to notice.
You were already ready to lose your top and wear the white tank top, the sun beating against the conference rooms windows.
Maya walked in looking untouched by the sweltering heat. Her stanley in hand and ipad under her arm.
“Who invited Sales?” She snaps to you immediately, just as Sal
“Daw, Marketing did you walk in here all by yourself or did you need a special scooter to get up the ramp?” You hit her age right off the bat making her left eyebrow twitch with irritation.
You one, Mason 0, before she could speak again Matt walked into the room happy you wre here asking about your weekend.
“She’s getting online laid.” Patty outed you and wanted to stab her. Making Maya giggle like this was the best thing ever.
“Oh man, is it an eighty year old in Ohio? Covered in warts with one tooth? Because I think it’s important to remember that AI photos are getting better and better. Unless of course that’s your type, in which case I can help pull your other teeth so you two match.” Maya’s claws were fucking out today as she sat down placing her stuff on the table.
Matt didn’t break up the fight, but he started unbuttoning his shirt.
“Woah, dude - she’s gay no one wants this.” Sal shielded his eyes from the view.
“Listen, this isn’t an HR complaint okay!” Matt’s voice cracked and all the women in harmony made unbelieving noises. “No, listen it’s just hot okay, I have an undershirt on. Let’s all just be as comfy as we can in this - temp said 89 in this place.”
“Maybe if our leader got it fixed.” Quinn reminded him and Maya did an agreeing noise.
“They said it would be fixed yesterday, okay we’re on it. Just if you get nauseous or need to shed layers do it okay. Fuck me, okay Sal you start.”
The meeting first thirty minutes was Sal basically wasting everyones time by explaining that the lead actor needed to be Matthew McConaughey.
Causing Patty to finally cut him off, holding her hand up to stop his rambling.
“Okay Sal - honey but remember he turned down the film. He doesn’t like sequels, remember?”
“Right and it’s a movie about poop.” You interject giving Maya the space to spin to you to talk shit.
“Oh because the head of sales is too good for a high grossing film?”
“I’m not too good for anything Maniac Mason, I’m just saying that we’re literally creating shit.”
Mayas jaw clenched and she stood ready to snap her acrylic nails off for you calling her that nickname, but you stood up too and actually stepped forward.
Making everyone pull you two apart, Sal was the one to push Maya back onto a chair while Patty guided you into yours.
Matt and Quinn acting as some sporty field goalie with their arms out to block either of you making a go for it.
“Sales is right! I wanted to make good films!” Matty droned on and now you actually regretted bringing this up.
Maya shot you a look of ‘gee thanks’ as Matt went into a monologue about how the movies used to be.
You all waited for him to relax once more, you wiped at your sweaty forehead grossly.
Quinn took off her shirt and sat in a sportsbra, Sal took off his shoes and even socks. But none of you made comments about the stripping of clothes. Too close to turning into puddles in real time as Matt drowned you with his propaganda on real art.
By the time Patty’s mascara was melted almost to her nose, he was done.
“Great, can we hear what the numbers are on Poop franchise before we talk Matt out of whatever film he wants to greenlight?” Sal actually took the lead, causing Patty to grunt in agreement. You stood up to start explaining how poop franchise would made box office but Hucherson alone wasn’t enough star power to really flex this series.
“What do you suggest, you wanna see if Katnis wants to be covered in silicone shit?” Maya snaps at you too fast for you to counter before Matt is agreeing with her.
“Yeah who wants to do these stupid movies!” The head of the studio starts to pace, his undershirt sticking to his hair sweaty chest making a dark spot form.
“Gee Marketing, I’m sure there’s some idea for who would be ‘trending’ right now.” You push back, speaking through your teeth at Maya who stands next to you with too much attitude.
Opening her ipdad to show a new mock up for the diarieah movies.
You can’t believe she has Megan Fox on the cover, you actually laugh before anyone has a chance to weigh in. Making Maya’s anger surge once more, twisting to you with the intent to kill.
But you slap your knee at the hilarity of it.
“You want to bring Fox on the franchise to save it?” You giggle now, a fit of giggles and Maya is almost growling at you.
“Why not?” She hisses and you open your cell phone.
“Because she’s a laughing stock ever since she shaked up with Machinegun Kelly and you know it!”
Quinn opens her mouth to weigh in but Maya’s stepping forward to counter attack.
“She is desperate for another shot at it!”
“Oh god, come on I know you’re old but this isn’t 2000’s, Fox isn’t going to bounce back. And she’s certainly not in for being covered in fake shit.” You wipe at the corner of your eyes to not smear the eyeliner but get rid of the tears from laughing.
Maya’s face is almost red, you don’t know why you are able to rile her up faster than anyone else.
Maybe it was because she could knock down every other department, but Maya and you both went to business school.
You two spoke money, not art, not lighting and camera. No you both were interested in what was trending so you could hop on the money train and come home with bags of it.
So Maya couldn’t talk down to you, you could do the math she dropped in your head and correct her. It drove the older Marketing head insane.
But there was something else, something you didn’t know about how Maya saw you.
She was embarrassed when you bested her, to Maya - you were better than an opponent. You were sexy, well-dressed, brilliant and adorable all at the same time.
Maya tried very hard to get over you though, by joining an oline dating site.
Her username picked in the middle of the night after going to a release party and seeing you in a long dress….Maya was a mess.
“You have a better idea?” The 50-year-old almost spat her venom at you, but you did. So you started your presentation for making a prequal with a better cast, more laughs - far more StepBrothers than ‘only’ poop humor.
You even made a mock up for it.
But as you walk back to your side of the conference table to get it. You take off the heavy layer over your head, your white tank top rides up and you hear a gasp.
You set the sweater on your seat and look over at Maya.
Who’s face is pale, as she stares at the tattooon your stomach, just above your hip.
“What?” You grind out, irritated she’s interrupting your presentation.
You look down at your stomach thinking maybe there’s a spider or something.
Everyone twists to look at you, then at Maya, waiting for something to change.
But Maya was frozen, standing very still, not even the sweat moved on her body.
The star tattoo you’d gotten to celebrate moving to LA. It’s silly but it’s right over your hip and you would never get rid of it, no matter how 90’s it was.
“I have to go check something.” Maya says and grabs her waterbottle then leaves the room.
“I’M NOT DONE!” You call after her, but she’s gone.
The meeting gets put on hold, seeing as you needed marketing to agree to your proposal. You work the rest of your day, texting your crush - hoping she was having a better day then you were.
When you get into your car at the end of the day, you find it strange that she hasn’t messaged back, nothing since the dirty pick she sent.
You go home, a sick feeling in your stomach, a bad feeling, she’d never gone more than an hour without texting you. It was actually a little concerning how glued to her phone she was…but now - nothihng.
You eat dinner, watch a movie, checking your phone every three minutes.
Nothing, completely ghosting you.
You head to bed early, putting your ringer up high, hoping to get a notification ding to explain what was going on with your GougeGucciGoddess555.
You twist and turn and get little sleep, going over in your head over and over again what you’d done wrong.
You go to work in the morning heading into Matt’s office to start your second part of the meeting after yesterday, but his first assistant comes in to inform you.
“Meeting is canceled, Maya called out sick, and Matt is on sets today. But most people are calling out sick because of the heat. Sounds like everyone's leaving for the rest of the week until they fix it.” She shrugs, and your shoulders drop.
Of all days, you sorta hoped that work or banter with Maya could distract you from the ache in your chest.
You pack your shit and go to work from home, stopping on the way to buy yourself an overpriced bagel and coffee.
But you can’t get yourself to eat it, stupid love.
How could loving someone have such a high one day, and such disastrous effects the next?
You go to your bed, lifting the comforter over your head.
You won’t do this, you won’t let a short relationship completely online ruin you!
It was stupid, how could you have gotten your hopes up like this!
You didn’t even know her name!
You called her nicknames and sexted like you two were in a relatniohsip! But what if it was all a lie?
What if she was married or did use AI for those images?
You twist under the bed to feel around for your second pillow so you could hide under it.
You were low, like hide under multiple layers and never come out kind of low.
You don’t know when you started to cry, but the tears soaked your pillow, your bottom lip shaking as you let out your first real sob.
It racks through your body mass, this type of crying.
The kind where you feel stupid, stupid for hoping, stupid for dreaming of a possibility of something happy.
When would you learn?
You cried harder, scared of what the dream of a love that could defy hurt had done to you.
It was only online, you should have known better. Why were you so dumb about this?
You cried harder, not grown woman with a degree, a job, and health insurance kind of cry either.
No, child falling off the bike cry with no help. Parent never coming home kinda cry. First love coming crashing down around you kind of cry.
You wanted to shrink into a raisin, let all of the tears out. The yelling tearing your throat open, as you scream into your lonely home.
You scream into the pillow louder, not sure if you were simply breaking inside of if it was maybe reflecting to your physical health.
Your fingers dug into the soft pillow, and you were filled with rage. As even while you were closing your eyes tight. You could see her naked body, see the texts, feel the excitement of it all.
You cried yourself to sleep.
Ignoring your work messages, ignoring the sunlight outside, the heat on the LA blacktop.
You cried for the alternate reality where you were happy.
You mourned for something that never had a name.
You stayed in bed for three days.
Calling out sick, eating only the ice cream in your freezer.
No interest in drinking water, or fucking showering.
You gremlined like a girl with a broken heart should.
On day four you turned your tv to the spotify app and blasted Adele so loud that the windows shook.
So loud you didn’t hear the knock at your front door, or that the person was rining the doorbell over and over.
You didn’t see your Ring notification.
But you did stand on your coffee table, hair a ratsnest, a pair of sweatpants hanging on your hip, with a sweatshirt from your teens. It’s faded with Blair Witch film print on it.
You grabbed the remote and screamed into it the lyrics of every broken heart girl. It was off key, not well but you yelled it into the remote like it was a microphone to the void.
Unaware that someone had found your spare key and had let herself in. That you in fact had an audience to your break down. No- you shouted at the top of your lungs;
“Never mind, I'll find someone like you I wish nothing but the best for you two Don't forget me, I beg I remember you said Sometimes it lasts in love But sometimes it hurts instead-”
You turn around one hand in the air like you are the pop diva yourself only to scream in horror.
Slipping in your socks and falling off the coffeetable, bruising your ass in the process.
But your intruder runs to your aid, grabbing your wrist, then stealing the remote to mute Adele.
“Maya?” You squeak, using all of your voice in your performance.
“Hey, Sales, or should I call you Adele?” She joked, softer than you ever heard.
“What the fuck, what are you doing in my house?” You scramble to stand and she hisses in empathetic pain.
“I should get you some ice for your butt, you fell hard.” Mason makes a sympathetic face and you’ve never seen this before. Almost sure you’ve hit your head instead because why else would Maya Mason be kind to you, in your house.
“This is a nightmare, you aren’t here.” You cover your eyes, shielding yourself from the embarrassment.
As Maya takes in your home, it’s clean - if not a bit messy from your break up pouting.
“I brought you work papers, but I also got you some coffee. But uh, maybe I could take you out to lunch?” Maya tells you, she’s wearing a cute outfit, not a hair out of place.
You have to be dreaming her.
“No, no Maya I don’t want to go to lunch with you.” You scoff and stand not understanding what type of trick this is.
You make distance between you and your work enemy. Grabbing one of the sofa cushions that were out of place and organizing your living room. Not sure why you cared how she saw your house. You kick your journal under the sofa hoping she doesn’t see it. The TV muted plays the next song as you can see ‘I HATE LOVE’ playlist you’d made.
Maya swallows awkwardly eyeing your art on the walls.
“You got a think for the classics, huh?” She points to the many original film poster prints. Seeing varying of her favorites on displayed in your living room.
“What are you doing here?” You grumble, as Maya points to the top of your messy hair. You reach up and pull out a mini Hershey's bar wrapper. You must have had a midnight snack.
You quickly comb your hair to see if anything else was in it.
“You could have called, I- I called out sick but -my presentation was emailed days ago.” Your panic only morphs to more anxiety on different topics.
“The paperwork is just for you to look over before the end of next week, really it’s no rush.” Maya’s tone was so gentle that you wondered how terrible you must have really looked.
“Then, uh why are you here?” You repeat still not understand what was in it for Maya to drive here and give it to you herself. Or break in and use your spear key under a very convincing fake rock.
Maya gave a sad smile and you were sure you must look on the brink of death.
“I get it, I mean we’ve never been friends. So I get why this must look weird. I mean- listen could you for a moment be sold on the idea that I came here under the false pretense of paperwork that could have been mailed over simply to…..See if you were okay?” Maya’s practically rocking back on her heels like some schoolboy in love.
You are confused what this game is, and your face is unbelieving.
“Okay, I get it. Baby steps, let’s do this, I got you a coffee. Why don’t I order in, you take a shower? Then you read over the documents-” Maya attempted a game plan and you scoffed.
“Maya, why would I want to eat with you?” You say it so mean, just like you two normally did but this time you saw her face fall. Was that sadness?
“I get it, I’ve never been nice to you. Why wouldn’t this be how you respond?”
You rub at your face until you hear a chime on your phone and you spin around like a dog looking for it’s tail. Then almost jump over the coffee table to see who texted.
It was an Instagram notification. Your shoulders slump.
You hear Maya clear her throat.
“Is that her? The girl you’re going through the break up with?” She questions, but there's something about her tone that sounds like she already knows the answer.
“No, wait - how did you-” you stop and stare at her before feeling humiliated once more. “Office rumor mill, but of course.”
“You like pizza with pineapple, artichokes, and olives, right?” Maya asks going to the kitchen which she opens the fridge to see if you have anything.
“Wait, don’t go in there - hey!” You snap, rounding to the kitchen following her. She’s already been in here, setting down the coffee and paperwork. You really hadn’t heard her on entry.
“I’m not the enemy, I promise. I’m going through a bit of a uh, relationship thing myself.” Maya’s lie rings in your ears, but she closes the fridge and pulls out her phone so as to not look you in the eyes.
“What, no more tinder coke whores to suck on you?” You snarl out, but this time you close your own eyes in upset. Making Maya slow her movements to see you regretting your words for the first time.
You clamp a hand over your mouth.
“I know, it’s just how we talked to each other for so long, it’s alright.” Maya says, but you shake your head.
“I know we did, but my mom always said-”
“Nice words weigh less on both parties then negative ones.” Maya finishes for you, and you straighten your spine confused.
“Yeah, how did you-”
“Go shower, change, don’t let the break-up own you. Alright, if she let you go she’s nuts. Maybe there’s more to this than her ghosting you.”
You don’t question how Maya knows your being ghosted, figuring Quinn must have tattled. Maya tries not to stare too long at the black and white movie poster 40’s ‘Shop Around The Corner.’
She doesn’t let herself linger on it.
“Yes, well you see -I don’t really-”
“Want company, yeah but you’ve already sund Adele. That’s like the seventh stage of grief, so at this point pizza is the next step. So really I’m only doing a service to your heart break.” Maya tries and smiles a genuine one at the end.
Throwing you off, had you ever seen Maya smile like that before?
Was anyone alive to say that she looked beautiful smlilng?
“Go, shower - you can think of all the mean stuff you want to say to be after.” Maya insists already ordering from your favroite pizza spot.
“Why are you here?” You push the same question again, but Maya’s demeanor shifts as she looks at you once more with new tenderness.
“Because I wanted to be your friend.” She answers honestly, and you sigh. Not sure why meanenss doesn’t flood your brain first - sarcasm taking a break from the fight.
You instead turn away from her, only for Maya to watch you leave as though you were the most precious being to her.
You take the steps two at a time up to your master where you shower and brush your teeth too hard.
By the time you are applying eyeliner again and putting on jeans you feel sorta like a person. A person carrying a heart break, but still a person.
When you head to the stairs you can already smell pizza goodness, you shuffle down the steps to see your back slider open. A cool breeze blowing through your house. Kinda like when Snow White gets the forest animals to clean the house.
Maya has your dishwasher running, your living room back together, blankets folded - some of them with ice cream stains in your washer. She’s already ordered and put away groceries and set the table out in your backyard.
It’s gotta be a gorgeous 74 day in LA, alight breeze keeping it cool. The fresh air seems to cleans your house.
You slowly walk through the house to your backyard, the light glimmering off the pool. The umbrella open, table cleaned off with two boxes of pizza and plates.
Nowhere to be found the work documents, though you weren’t in a rush to see them.
Maya see’s you pocketing her phone and standing up.
Was this a date? No that wasn’t possible.
But as Maya pulls out a chair for you and pushes you in, you don’t know how else to see this.
She opens the pizza box and gives you two slices of your favorite pie in the whole state.
“Good choice,” you remark, unsure of how she knew all of this.
“Coffee,” she points to the middle of the table where your latte sits. You pick it up happy it’s still a little warm. You humm as somehow Maya picked out your favorite flavor, okay weird.
“Am I in some kind of Twilight Zone episode?” You say disbelieving and don’t know what to do when Maya seems conflicted.
“So, tell me the story.” She confidently side steps your comment, opening the second box to see your second favorite combo…. She’s licking her thumb of pizza grease and sitting across from you.
The sunlight warms your toes as the fresh hair fills your lungs.
“What story?” You play dumb but she gives a no bullshit smirk.
“There’s always a story with heartbreak.” She insists, and you hate that tears already are threatening to fall.
Maya isn’t afraid it seems of emotions, as she pulls out a pizza napkin and hands it to you. But you see that she just stopped herself rom dabbing at your tears.
You thank her taking the napkin and working not to smear your eyeliner.
“It’s dumb, I was- too easily believing..” You scoff at yourself but take another drink of the coffee to stop the panic attack.
“You trusted, you gambled - that’s what we do at work everyday. Sometimes we win, maybe this girl’s not worth it? Or maybe she is and this is just a small bump in your love story?” Maya supplies, more balanced answer than you’d given credit for.
You laugh sadly again and blot at your tears.
“Maybe she saw me and realized I wasn’t worth the time.” You give one of your many secret fears out willingly to this person you called enemy.
But Maya doesn’t like your answer one bit.
“No, no, no she’d have to be a moron to do that.” She bites into her pizza and nods for you to do the same, you curl your pizza and take a bite.
Maya smiles, though you don’t see it as you look out at your backyard.
“Sunshine has to be the best medicine ever.” You say, looking at the Hollywood sign from your backyard.
Maya’s staring at you, but you are so lost in soaking up the rays.
“I was born in New York, and we had sun. But the winters gave me such the seasonal depression hard. I love California so much.” You share something personal, something you never believed you’d give to Maya. Because the older Marketing head would surely use it as amo.
“You fold your pizza, I always was curious - how long did you stay in New York?” Maya digs for information, you look at her curiously.
“Why?”
Maya shrugs, seeming to feel scared she broke the moment.
“You have to get back to the office, right?” You ask, though something in you doesn’t want Maya to leave.
You take a big bite of pizza and try not to notice how right she is, you do still fold your pizza.
Maya shakes her head, then looks at the Hollywood sign from afar like you had done.
“Nah, Matt knows I make my own schedule. Besides, I already agreed to your proposal. It’s working as we speak, chasing new director and cast. I think you were always right, maybe that’s why I always got so mad. You had the thought before I did. Like we were always on the same team, but…” Maya looks down at her pizza, then scratches the crease of her mouth with the napkin.
You wait, not realizing you're holding your breath.
She shrugs a little, then gazes at you once more full of confidence.
“...But maybe I just wanted to be on the inside with you. I always knew you were the smartest in the room, I just wanted to back you. Not be finding out with Matt.” She scoffs at the name and you swallow another bite.
“The first day I was on the lot….I didn’t want to meet Matt, or Patty or even Griffin. I knew you’d done the marketing and press ideas for Blair Witch. Fuck I just wanted to learn from you…” You admit not looking at Maya again, but instead at your plate. But it’s the truth, one you’d forgotten, just like you’d given up so many other foolish ideals in this town.
“You knew I did that?” Maya’s almost mistrusting, seeing as she wasn’t head of marketing back then. But she’d only gotten a little credit for her idea, so how would you know.
“Yeah,” you put the napkin on the table and rest in your chair back.
Maya’s face curls in that bad memory.
“I called you a nobody wanna-be actress who wouldn’t know business if her Daddy bought the whole company.” Maya regrets it everyday, because she’d said it, then watched your face react.
Now here you were ten years later, after working on so many amazing projects together. Maya knew the first day she was wrong about you, but she had so many stupid walls.
Mason now watched as your face didn’t even flinch from the rude remark. That’s what happened in this town, you grew calloused, every cut healed over to form a second skin.
You look up at Maya without the glint in your eyes, and the woman hated herself for it. For ever thinking you were in her way.
“No one taught me like you did, how my dreams were just…childsplay. I learned fast, I thank you for that.” You say with a fake smile, one that breaks Mason's heart a million times over.
She leans towards the table, closer to you.
“Sales, I was wrong. I shouldn't have squished your dreams like that. You loved artsy movies, you loved Blaire Witch and - fuck you had so much ambition. I’m so sorry.”
You simply shrug ant pick up the pizza to feed your sorrow.
“Maybe I’m better now for it, no dreams, ya know? I mean, you and GougeGucciGoddess555 taught me how to be tough.” You say sadly, only for a moment to pass before Maya busts out in laughter.
Making you turn shocked at her, but she keeps giggling, and now you can’t help but smile.
“What?” You shriek, but you don’t have as much anger in it as before.
Maya sets her pizza down and puts two hands out to try, and calm herself.
“That’s her screen name?”
“What?”
“Well it’s just so bad, I gave her more credit than that, your soulmate.” Maya’s jokes made you both laugh and you can’t get as seriously defensive.
“Hey, okay she may not have the best screename but she-stop laughing!” You stopped explaining as Maya flipped her hair over her shoulder and covered her mouth with her hand to stop laughing.
“I’m sorry you’re right - no you are. Okay so I get the Gucci because she’s probably like twenty.” Maya took the stab and your eyebrows furrowed.
“No, she’s not! She’s in her fifties, I like my women older! Stop laughing!” You threw your napkin at Maya, but you were laughing along with her.
This fact settling something in Mason, like she needed to hear you say it.
“Okay, so Gucci, I mean that has to be every LA woman right? That’s not helpful to narrow it down.” Maya said leaning back like you were in your chair. As the breeze moved a stray hair and she held herself back from brushing it away.
“Yeah, I mean kinda of all the designers,” you make a ugh face, under the table Maya curls the Gucci tag for her pants in. So subtle you don’t see it but you turn to look at her more confused.
“Then what’s with the 555?”
Maya pretends to ponder this.
“555?” She repeats, just to be clear, you repeat it back to her, and she takes her own coffee and takes a sip. Before coming back with ideas.
“555, the number of facelifts she needs to stay looking young in this town?”
You laugh harder now, your sides hurting from all the hearty laughter in fact.
Maya only beams back at you but you shake your head.
“555, the number of thousands of dollars she got in the divorce?” Maya jokes again and you try to catch your breath from giggling, so hard you snort.
Making Maya keep going, as she has never heard a better sound.
“555, the amount of felonies her 500 children have. Oh god, Sales you are so lucky! Her vagina is as wide as Wyoming! No strap on would have ever fit!” The dirty jokes have you almost falling out of your chair.
You catch your breath as Maya smiles at you so hard her face might crack.
“No, no, she’s too smart to put 555 like any of that. No, 555, wait maybe 555 because she loves movies? 555 was the phone number on TV and films because they couldn’t put an actual phone number, ya know?” You say looking up like you were solving the clues.
Maya stops smiling for just long enough for you to laugh at the idea.
“No, that’s stupid!” You laugh and put your feet up on the side of the chair. Taking another bite of your pizza.
Maya regains her footing by asking another question.
“Gouge?” Maya picks the first part and you arch an eyebrow. “ GougeGucci555, what's the gouge about? Is she like a serial killer?” Maya wiggles her eyebrows as though it’s scandalous.
“No, no - it’s because she had a tough childhood. She fought hard, the first time she ever won the police officer told her that she gouged the man. A family member, can you even imagine?” You say with such heart, like you wish you could go back and save that kid.
Maya gets quiet as she watches your whole being melt for GougeGucci555.
“Seems like you really understand her, she’s lucky to have you.” Maya tells you.
You don’t correct her, just smile back, but you hold your coffee cup up in the air.
“To love guaged so deep into our hearts, we become stupid.” Your chuckle makes it impossible for Maya to not take her own cup and cheers you.
Lunch turns to appetizers, turns to watching the sun set with some wine.
Maya then has to stay for dinner, which turns into you two eating Sundays and sitting on your sofa - arguing over movies.
“I never thanked you for cleaning my house…” You say a little awkwardly.
“Don’t worry, heartbreak wrecked my house too,” Maya accidentally says before spooning hot fudge in her mouth.
You hold the remote to your chin and give her a strange look.
You’re legs are criss-crossed under the blanket, you’re sitting closer to Maya then ever before, but you don’t feel weird about it at all.
“I think it’s time I hear about this girl, don’t you?” You ask, but your heart hurts, you ignore the pain.
Maya looks anxious but she takes the clicker from you.
She puts on a rom-com and you aren’t easily distracted. Even though moments ago you told her no rom coms, only bloody gore and death counts.
You see Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan on the screen but you twist to stare Maya down.
“It’s only fair, come on, we’re having a girl sleepover weekend thing.” The not subtle invite is taken;
“So naturally, I have to tell you about her?” Maya supplies not saying you two weren’t doing that.
You feel lighter with the idea that she’s just agreed to sleep over and spend the weekend with you.
The rom-com plays as Maya sets her bowl in her lap and licks her lips.
“Okay, I’ll tell you about her. Because, I mean she’s the best person, the kindest sexiest woman I’ve ever known. I feel like, when I tell her something, she’s always going to help me figure it all out. When I’ve had a bad day, she’s the only person I want to tell about it. When I do something well, I don’t even think of inner child horrors. I just think of her praise, sometimes the idea of her just running her fingers through my hair calms me down…but I mean we….” Maya looks down at her bowl self-conscious now of oversharing to you. But how could she not?
“Wow, she seems great,” You keep the ugly thoughts out of your voice, because you want Maya to be happy.
Only a day of being her friend and….you want her to be happy.
“Wait, did you say the idea of her? Does she like live far away?” You ask and Maya holds her spoon too tight. Her knuckles going white from how you picked up on that.
“Yeah, well - I mean we, we haven’t worked that out yet. She’s, uh she’s online right now.” Mason was afraid of too many lies stacking.
You laugh at Maya, making her almost more afraid of this conversation.
Tom Hanks is laughing on the screen but it’s so low you don’t understand the irony of it all. The perfect hint of such a movie choice.
“You made so much fun of me for not knowing- but you hypocrite!” You say and grab a throw pillow and sock Maya in the side with it.
She laughs good-naturedly about it, but grasps the pillow and puts it behind her.
“So wait, what app?”
“It doesn’t matter, what matters is that you - you hear from me that love exists. It’s beautiful, okay so no more letting Maya Mason stomp on your dreams. One day you’re gonna be really, really, really, happy. You just, give it some time - okay?” Maya was stumbling through this and you didn’t believe her, and she was that.
“I’m not interested in fallin in love again.” You lean back to watch the movie, you stir your ice cream to mix the caramel on the bottom.
“Don’t say that.” Maya’s voice is too quiet, too concerned to ignore. You turn your head to see her.
“She was the best! Where else am I going to find a 50 year old with boobs like that! Who’s funny like that and sweet and has done that much therapy work like jeez! No, I’d wait for her forever. I will…” You cackle with too much self-deprecation to be funny, and Maya isn’t moving again.
She puts the ice cream bowl on your coffee table and grabs the remote to completely mute it.
Then she turns to look at you, you’re confused as hell but even more so as she takes your ice cream from you.
“Maya?” You question, not understand why she was turning all serious.
“I can’t help but wonder. If I hadn’t been Maniac Mason, and you hadn’t be in Sales. Or even, if I hadn’t hurt your feelings that day? That first day…. could we have gone to lunch? I celebrate your new hire, you and I talk about movies? Would you let me buy you pizza? Would you make fun of my brand overpriced sunglasses? Let me hear all your dreams?” Your sworn enemy asks, and you hold your breath.
“Maya?” You question again and she doesn’t slow down now.
“I would have asked you out for a second date, and a third, and a forth. I would have learned your favorite pizza, your favorite coffee…” Maya lingers on each sentence as though it’s a dream she’s thought about for a while now.
“What…” you trail off unsure what to ask.
Maya curls the hair that fell behind her ear at you see her give a shy smile, so unlike the loud marketing head.
“I wouldn’t have been able to wait the right amount of time before I texted you again. To ask how your morning was, to ask what song you listened to on your way to work. I would have been glued to my phone. Overly eager to say something stupid to make you laugh, making it harder for us to fight over stupid stuff…” Maya nods at this reality, and you hate how gorgeous this life with her sounds.
“We wouldn’t.” You respond back, unsure of how the answer seems so true to you. You wouldn’t fight over stpuid stuff, because Maya would say something and it’s true - you’d both giggle like two best friends once more…
“No, not us.” Maya agrees with you, and you think time is slowing down.
Then Maya tilts her head to the side just a little.
“If you have this much loyalty for,” she looks to the floor and then her blue eyes turn back to you. “If you could forgive GougeGucci555 for ghosting you. Could you ever forgive me, for being your mortal enemy?” Maya asks and you’re in shock.
But you sit up straight and use your phone to turn the lights on.
Your eyeline down on your feet.
“Maya, it’s getting late.” You say sadly and Maya’s eyes close in pain.
“Right, of course.” She says but is slow to stand up, to grab her sunglasses off of the kitchen table.
You don’t look at her, but she adds as she puts her shoes on.
“Would have been a great script though, right? I mean what a movie!” It’s too depressing, you can’t joke back.
When you look up at the screen Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan are laughing and you remember why you hate rom coms. Love is a wretched, horrid thing.
Maya lingers too long, trying to figure out if she should take her dish to the sink.
All the sadness rests on your shoulders again, and she doesn’t know how to fix this.
Only she knows exactly how to fix everything, because she’s worked so hard to know everything about you for the past months.
Maya rubs at her jaw and tries to think.
Your eyes look up at the film once more as the captains roll, you see Tom Hanks making jokes about Meg Ryans internet fling.
You stare at it a little harder, but Maya is about to cry, as she had all this week. As she’d not done before this week in twenty four years.
But she pushed her shades up her nose to shield her face.
“Uh, make sure you get a look at those papers and uh-”
You get off the sofa and twist to see her.
“Maya Mason.” You say a little too angry for Maya to be out of the dog house.
“Yeah, Sales?” She tries to joke back.
“Are those Gucci sunglasses?” Your face is blank and she’s not sure what to do.
“Yeah, baby girl I only wear designer.” Maya shrugs and the nickname hits you square in the chest.
“What was your girlfriend's name, Maya?” You push back, but the older woman squares her shoulders.
“I didn’t say, we’re working things out right now.” Maya half lies, only because what else can she say right now.
You tilt your head and stand rounding the sofa.
“Maya…” You say her name like it’s a sin and a prayer. The older woman is bashful in front of you but not truthful.
You take your phone out of your pocket, you open the dating app and send GougeGucci555 an emoji of a middle finger.
Maya’s phone goes off, and she closes her eyes.
Caught red-handed.
“You asshole.” You curse, a tear rolling down your face. But Maya can’t take it she walks forward. Ready to beg for your forgiveness.
“I can explain!”
“You knew!” You shouted so loud it broken Maya’s resolve and she took off her shades so you can see the tears flowing freely now.
Nothing ever looked as angelic as Maya Mason in tears over you.
“The star tattoo! I saw it that day, I thought you hated me! You’d never want me, not as you knew me! But fuck baby girl, do you know me! You know everything, I thought - I thought maybe if I could be your friend-”
You take another throw pillow and chuck it at her face but she ducks it easily and steps forward.
“You thought you could lie to me!”
“No, I mean, yeah, but I needed to know if you were as heart broken as I was! What if I was one of your many!” Maya saying the wrong thing and you grab another throw pillow glad you had so many stupid things and chucked it at her head again, only for Maya to grab this one.
“YOU THOUGHT I WAS SEEING SOMEONE ELSE?” You yell horrified that it was a thought. Maya’s tears were now nothing compared to her pale complexion of regret.
“No, that’s not what I mean! I am in love with you! I knew I couldn’t keep pretending to be GougeGucci555 only! I love you at work I love you online I love all of you! I love that you can’t sing!”
You groan, backing up as Maya walks forward you go back towards the coffee table and find the ice cream bowl with your spoon and go to throw it at her face too.
But Maya grabs your wrist carefully, stopping you from throwing objects at her now.
“I love that you chew loud when you eat pizza, I memorized every bit of wisdom your said from your mom! I know you still can’t watch ‘Saw’ even though you pretend to love it! I love that you can cum from your nipples being played with and I love that you need the bathroom light on to sleep.” Maya’s list has you biting your lip, and tears stopped as you drop the spoon; it clatters to the floor loudly.
Maya takes your wrist and puts it over her heart that is pounding so fast.
“We’d never have been enemies, never. I’d have never-” Maya gasps and loses her breath, the veins in her neck popping out under the strain. The stress of the knowledge that she hurt you.
You watch in slow motion as Mason doesn’t let up.
“I was so afraid, so scared that GougeGucci555 was all you would ever want. I was scared that I could never be worthy of you. Then I learned who you were and I knew for a fact I never would. But fuck If I won’t show up every day to be the soft place you land. I won’t let you fall, I swear. I won’t stand you up like that asshole at your prom. Or ignore you like your family, I-I want to be your family. Fuck please don’t rob me of the chance to be it for you!” Maya is yelling at the end, and you hesitate, but you aren’t pulling away.
“It?”You all but yell at her.
“It, ya know….” Maya seems shy now, but she looks at the movie and she’s never looked more scared. “It, your person, for-for as long as we both shall live….”
You two both give heartbroken gasps, because you can see her dream - you can almost taste it. Two of you, in white making promises. The two of you on this sofa every night, watching movies. Domestic and in love, at work as a team, happy for all your days.
“You’re quoting a movie to me? Right now?” You hide your smile, and Maya is still in the hot seat, trying to figure out how to make you see.
“I mean, you were sorta the little shop around the corner trope here. I tried so hard, to make you see, to give hints, I’m-I’m trying to say I fucked up. I mean you would have done this all so much better than I did….”
“There’s no papers in that folder, are there?” You question and Maya’s shaking her head.
“I needed to see you, I haven’t gone that long without seeing or texting you in so long. I just - I needed an hour to see you. Make sure you were eating something and…Fuck I’m sorry. I’m so sorry - you’re too smart for this to have all gone over. I should have just told you at the start.”
Maya’s tears fall once more, but you startle her by brushing them away.
“Don’t cry, shop girl.” You thumb the large tears as Maya gives out a heart-throbbing noise, you caressing her face, stopping the baby blues from hurting.
“Don’t cry.” You quote the film back to her, a promise that you still believe in such things, too.
Maya smiles broadly as she is almost choking on relief and tears all at the same time.
“I wanted it to be you.” You quote again, but you mean it so much. Because you know you really did, and Maya loses it, pushing forward she kisses you hard.
You sigh and wrap your arms around her as tight as you can as she lifts you off your feet, squeezing you against her frame.
So that you would never again know a day without her solid love against you.
You both cry as you taste Maya’s hot fudge and ice cream on her tongue, her tears mixing with yours, you two just make it to the sofa before she’s on top of you and you laugh and kiss more.
Two idiots in love, just like the movies.