Drink Me

40. ABOUT HER

ABOUT HER

"Fuck," Riley let out, rubbing his face.

He had screwed up badly; no matter how irritating Alice was, she was his superior, and he had disrespected her in front of her boss.

Had one of his subordinates done the same, they would have been in for a long month of toilets scrubbing.

Still, he would have never treated a good, willing soldier the way Alice had done with him.

Respect goes both ways.

"I'm sorry," Riley said to Smith. "I've crossed the line, I know." he sat on the sofa with a heavy sigh. "I just feel like she doesn't trust me, my judgement, my skills, all the things I can bring to this operation. She doesn't respect me or care about my opinion."

A sly smile appeared on Smith's lips, but he remained silent.

"She just does what she wants and has to have it her way," Riley continued, realising that maybe now his complaints and his anger were going beyond what had just happened.

They were personal.

"Are you two still fighting about that Nicole girl?" Smith asked, reading his mind, but he seemed amused.

Riley looked up at him, feeling his cheeks flush.

"No, I don't think so," Riley replied anyway. "Fighting wouldn't solve anything, Alice likes her..."

"Yeah, that's what she says," Smith said, but he raised his eyebrow.

Riley shook his head, wanting to prove to Smith that his problem with Alice went beyond their difference of opinions regarding Nicole.

"I just wish she respected me, that she saw my true potential," he said, looking up at Smith again, and he couldn't but feel embarrassed. First the fight and now he was complaining like a school kid to the headmaster because the small, fragile girl with pigtails had dared bruise his ego.

Way to prove your point, Murphy.

Insult your superior, then bitch about her with her boss.

But Smith didn't point out any of that. He nodded understanding instead and perched himself on the edge of the sofa. "I want you to imagine something for me," he said. "Imagine that the moment you walk out that door," he pointed to the entrance, "your whole life is taken from you. Your past, your accent, your likes and dislikes, your quirks and wit, your entire personality. Imagine being stripped of all the things that make you, you. Imagine not hearing someone say your real name for years."

Smith paused but Riley said nothing, he knew where the man was going and he felt like an even bigger idiot.

Smith assessed Riley's remorseful silence and continued.

"Now on top of that, add living a life that is not yours, with people you don't necessarily like. The stress of always having to play your character, sober, drunk, sick, in that second between sleep and wake when you don't know where and when you are. And when you're not out gathering intelligence or working a real-life job as your cover, you're in here writing reports or attending meetings to plan your next move. And then you're out again. For years."

Riley rubbed his face. If he could have punched himself, he would have.

Smith smiled and spoke again. "Being an undercover agent is like being an actor, you have a role to play at all costs. Except, there's no room for bloopers or breaks. The more you're forced to play that role, the more the tension grows. You end up with this build-up of stress and anger that you have to let out if you don't want it to consume you. Except you only allow yourself to do it when you know you can let your guard down, with the person you trust and that makes you feel safe."