Larry knew Keeley was trying to impress someone because she was wearing that particular lipstick: The red one that costs, like, sixty dollars and tastes of strawberries.
It's the one she wears like armour when she sets out to conquer a new crush.
Larry knew all about the taste of that lipstick because it's one of the very few truly precious things he had encountered in his life, and made a conscious effort to commit to memory.
And what a beautiful memory it is.
Except that's all it is: A memory. But oh, how much he would give for it to be more. How much he would give to taste strawberries again.
Nothing is more painful than this. Who could this new person be? Does he know them? Will they, unlike him, recognise the rare gift that is the girl in front of him and hold onto her? Larry hadn't recognised it until he had thrown it away.
It's probably that doctor she always gushes about. The one with long blonde hair the body of a god.
Maybe it's Rebecca. Her best friend turned lover who's known Keeley much longer, and perhaps better, than him.
It didn't matter all that much, really. It was simple enough: he still loved her, and she had already moved on.
He tried to tune back into the group's conversation. Rebecca and Louis were planning their European backpacking holiday for next year. Charlie and Jaime were working on another indie film.
They were happy. They had it all worked out. It made him feel sick.
Once again, he glanced back in Keeley's direction. She lowered a martini glass from her mouth, and a dusting of crystals remained on her ruby lower lip. He couldn't help but jump back on that agonizing train of thought.
Would they make her breakfast in bed? Would they watch those gruesome crime shows with her? Would they hold up the line to visit her in the deli? Would they take her to red square and buy her McDonald's at 4am? Would they carry her home when she takes off her heels? Would they kiss her after a gym date, even when they are both drenched in sweat? Would they kiss her in the shower too afterwards? Would they tell her they love her every time she needs to hear it, and even when she doesn't, just to be sure.
Larry sure hoped so, because if he couldn't do it, she deserved someone that would.
Larry blinked back to reality and realised, to his horror, that the rest of the group had left the front bar, except for one. He was alone with her.
He cleared his throat. "Where did everyone go?"
Keeley shifted and fiddled with her clutch purse nervously. "They went to tear Louis off the poker machines."
"Oh."
Oh?
Awkward silence settled over them once again. Larry wracked his brains for something to say, anything, but came up blank. Keeley looked at the ceiling like it held the meaning of life.
He really had nothing to lose, so he took a few moments to pluck up what little courage he had left, to throw the question out there, the one he knew he would regret.
"So who is it?"
"What?" she asked, her eyes dart down to meet his.
Larry gulped. The dread was rising up in his chest, but he pushed through. "The person you're trying to impress?"
Keeley paused, considering his words. "How did you-"
"You're wearing that red lipstick again," He explained quickly.
Keeley fell silent, and remained silent for so long that the silence became its own entity, like it was rushing around and in between them, filling the void Larry so wished to close.
Then, finally, Keeley burst into laughter and the silence shattered. As Her laughter grew and grew so did Larry's confusion. It seemed to continue for an eternity.
Just when he'd decided to call this whole ridiculous thing off and tell her not to worry about it, she pressed her hand over her mouth in an attempt to calm her amusement. Larry waited, every atom of his body screaming.
Finally, Keeley went quiet. She dropped her hand and to Larry's bewilderment she was smirking.
A stretch of Crystal red lips.
Then she paid him the most beautiful insult he had ever received.
"It's you, Stupid."
