Studio 22 | Mary-Kate Olsen

Chapter Thirty-Four

MARY-KATE'S POV

December 16th 2020 - New York City - Studio 22

Blue came back to work after we spent the weekend together. Her parents insisted I stayed for dinner on Sunday, it was lovely to be in an environment where Blue was completely at home. In every other environment I witness her she's always in charge, she takes the lead, she does everything she can and never stops. But in the walls of her family home her parents took care of her and she let them. She was their little baby, they treated her like the world revolved around her.

I got to watch her when she was at her most vulnerable. Watching her eat and brush her teeth it was clear they were so taxing to her body. She was emotionally exhausted and that was taking a toll on her physical health. She cried without warning, not always was it obvious she was crying, some of the times it was silent tears rolling down her cheeks. Her family didn't react to the silent tears, I don't think they noticed. But they comforted her the best they could. I think when she was silently crying were the times she needed someone the most.

Sunday evening before I left she broke, she was uncontrollably sobbing, gasping for breaths, her dad held her close to him hiding her away from the world in his broad chest. His arms wrapped around her small frame holding all her pieces together. She begged him to fix it, I don't know what 'it' she was referring to. Kacy not being here? Her feeling so broken? Is she blaming herself? Or something different... But it pained him. I saw that he winced when he had to tell her he couldn't fix this. "Please, Papi, please," She begged again. He held her on his lap as if she was a young child. She cried like that for 10 minutes straight, her parents reminding her to breathe. When she stopped he wiped her tears away so gently as if he was cleaning the finest china. He looked her in her eyes for a few moments before pecking her forehead. He spoke a few words in Spanish and she nodded as tears still trickled down her cheeks. The love in his eyes as he helped her calm down and regain balance in her mind was poetic. It was the type of parental love you read about or see in movies. Her mum watched her with pity, she seemed to feel rather helpless as her daughter unravelled in front of her. Neither of them could fix what was happening, they weren't time travellers.

I think it would hurt less if she stopped blaming herself. She was taking on the responsibility for her team's death but also her girlfriend who she clearly loved so deeply. Though being loved by her seems like a privilege. I don't think anything could unroot the love Blue has for Kacy. When she talks about her, her eyes sparkle with pleasant memories of them and she describes her like she was a living angel. That only added to the hurt for Blue though.

The next day after our support groups we met at our old usual spot and she waited for me to finish smoking before we headed to the coffee shop. It was busier than it normally was and we didn't have an unlimited choice for a table. We ended up in the middle of the store which neither of us enjoyed. We didn't stay as long as we normally would and Blue wasn't as talkative as she normally was but I expected so much. When we were walking to work I told her she didn't have to come in today and Ashley and I understood. But she insisted and she stepped through Studio 22's door and she switched on and put a performance on for everyone. She smiled, chatted, gossiped, helped, took on more than she could probably manage right now. Towards the end of the day her energy was diminishing and when everyone had left her painted smile was wiped from her face as she slowly typed up notes from today's meetings. Ashley told her to go home but she insisted on staying. Of course she would, it was Monday.

The following days she did the same thing, played the part of Blue Sinclair and when the building emptied out she took a bow and went back to showing how she really felt right now.

Days have passed and she hasn't gotten 'better'. I expected her to get worse as the anniversary crept closer and closer. She seemed to busy herself with more work, she took on extra tasks, she worked longer hours, working through her breaks and lunch, she stayed later too. I of course was with her, in the building, when she stayed later. The anniversary was this Saturday, four days away.