Our love couldn't go wrong

Chapter Eight :

After that morning, her day had progressively gotten better as she eased into the routine of a typical work day. Maybe it was just the caffeine kicking in, or the delirium taking its toll and making everything funnier, but the tension had finally left her body and she felt herself relaxing. Like her old self.

There's something comforting about the people around you knowing you just as well, if not better, than you know yourself, she supposes. It's as though they know exactly what to say, as well as what to avoid saying. Like always. Nobody had mentioned the fact that she was wearing practically the same outfit as the day before (with the addition of a newly cropped merch shirt, courtesy of Ian's supply). Nobody had questioned her badly applied make-up - the art department didn't comment on the fact they knew she used their supply to fix her face and cover everything that had become uncovered since yesterday. In fact, nobody acted like today was any different from any other day and it was nice, being with her friends again. Like it used to be.

The conversations were mainly about recent events and upcoming projects, as well as favourite past videos. There was a moment where Shayne re-enacted his drowning as a toddler, with the help of some of the crew, and she couldn't stop laughing. It wasn't even funny - she hates to think about the fact that they could've never met if things had been different - but the way they all played along made it...perfect. Shayne seemed to have a knack for that.

Everything was going so well. But perhaps that familiarity had lulled her into a false sense of security.

Ian had told her in the car on the way to work not to focus too far ahead, that what was going to happen in the future was in the future and wasn't happening in that very moment. So, just like he'd told her, she was focusing on everything going on in that very moment. The people around her, the work going on, the things being said.

There comes a point where the future becomes present, however.

Lunchtime came around fast and they'd all ordered Thai food from the restaurant round the block. Everybody was sitting at their desks, or had moved their chairs to be sat closer to the others; they were all laughing and joking with each other, various impressions being thrown about. Her belly was starting to hurt from just how much she'd been laughing.

And then she saw him.

There was a part of her that always thought it was dramatic when people said how the world can seem to stop in one moment, how you freeze up and time starts to slow. Because that doesn't just happen to people. Or it had just never happened to her, until now, that is.

She wasn't the first to notice him. She knows that, and it frustrates her, because maybe it would've been easier for her if everyone had continued as they were before and she could slip away, control the situation and handle it herself. Jason knew she never wanted to bring her coworkers into their personal life, but maybe he just forgot. Or perhaps it was part of his plan, whatever, knowing that he'd have everyone's attention.

The room fell quiet and she could feel the heat rushing to her cheeks as she stood up, Shayne tensing up next to her and Ian glancing between her and her boyfriend. He's only a few feet away, but those steps feel like miles as she tries not to trip over her own feet, closing the gap between them. "What are you doing here?" She hisses. It comes out harsher than she wanted, but she doesn't care at that moment.

It's not as though she's embarrassed of him, per se, it's just that the situation is embarrassing her. She hates confrontation and this is exactly what this feels like. This is meant to be a private conversation and almost all of her work friends are watching them - she can feel them watching, even with her back turned to them.

"Courtney, baby, can we talk for a minute? Please."

She hesitates. He seems genuinely sorry, with that look on his face that always makes her apologise, but she holds back from saying that word. She shouldn't be sorry, should she?