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♫ night 52 by christine and the queens ♫
She couldn't remember the last time she was alone in a theater.
Well, she wasn't technically alone. Julien was there... Just not there with her.
After days of pulling his arm and convincing her fiancé of seeing A Star Is Born with her, they finally managed to make their first date back together official.
But somehow, he instead managed to leave her here by herself with tears in her eyes as he was off stomping his feet joyously to Bohemian Rhapsody playing at the same time across the hall.
But she put on a brave face, as brave as one could be whilst watching Lada Gaga sing at her late husband's memorial, at least. Sitting here on the edge of the D-Row seats, a lingering afterthought peered through the back of her mind.
The seat next to her was empty. And the person she really wanted there wasn't exactly Julien. He would've sat there with her, held her hand as they watched the film, smiled at the way she would ever-so-silently murmur out Shallows in unison to the scenes.
Tonight wasn't the first time she missed Eli. It had been a reoccurring feeling lurking among her wishes like a dirty secret. But she tried to downplay it. It was natural to miss an ex, especially one she had strong feelings for just a week after last seeing them. She was sure that Julien missed any of the girls he was once with - or at least he would if he were permitted to not see them again.
Being in an open relationship was the last thing Greta had ever thought she'd find herself in. But she believed she knew better this time. She understood Julien enough to realize that monogamy was never something he'd ever truly believe in. But she loved him enough to work their way through it to find the same semblance of happiness they once had as college kids.
She couldn't hide it from herself, though. She knew why she opted into an open relationship, and it wasn't so that Julien could fuck all of Seattle out of his system.
One day, maybe not today or tomorrow, she knew she find her way back into Eli's good graces again. If there was anything she's learned from their time together, it was that he had a difficult time ever saying no to her.
He'll be lonely enough, missing the way they'd touch and kiss one another. Then she'll spring in with the good news.
'Guess what, Georgia Boy? I'm still getting married, but you and I can still keep things going. Isn't that amazing?'
That was just one of the many alternatives her mind had of introducing her proposal to him. But whose to say that he won't neglect it? Sure, he's not talking to her now, but if they just give each other that nudge like they always have, then Greta could have her cake and eat it too. She can wear that wedding ring around her finger, still married to Julien as planned. And this time, while Julien is out doing God knows what with God knows who, then Greta wouldn't care.
She'll have her lover again. And they'll listen to Shallows, cuddle, fuck, eat chicken, then start the routine two or three days later.
As the end credits played away, Greta pulled her phone out to see if there was perhaps some sappy voicemail or drunken text left by Eli like there had been the first few days after she left his apartment. But oddly enough, there was nothing.
No text message, no voicemail message, not even a screenshot of a romantic Spotify song sent from him to her. It had been five days now. Five days since he's gone radio silent. Frankly, it was unnerving. But she left the theater to find Julien and try to get her mind off it. And through the crowds of people breezing from the theater, drunkenly humming out Queen songs, it wasn't long before she found Julien's handsome face and wavy blonde hair.
With a tired smile, she leaned up to kiss him, only to smile when he kissed her back. "You had a good time?" He asked her.
And nodding, Greta answered. "It was fine." She half-lied but took his hand anyway. "You ready to go home?"
Then suddenly, his face twisted with bewilderment. "I thought you and I were gonna stop by Danny and Krista's to talk about the wedding. You know Holly'll be there."
Frowning, Greta remembered. Though their engagement had only been back on after a week, somehow, almost everyone knew. That added pressure to things.
She looked down, her eyes a little hazy after a little over two hours spent staring at that big, glossy movie screen. "Ah... I think I wanna dodge wedding talks for tonight..." She told him. "It's late, y'know? Plus, we both just got off work. Don't you just wanna go home and have a little talk of our own?"
She applied an extra tug to the helm of his shirt to lean himself deeper into her innuendo. And with a dirty chuckle, Julien acknowledged. But that chuckle turned to a breathy sigh, and then his hand ran itself across Greta's cheek, the both of them garnering their share of untamed heat.
"Which is it, sweetheart?" He asked. "Are we staying up to be with your friends, or are we staying up to fuck?"
The gaze in her eyes turned to stone amid the brown hues doused within. Verbally, she felt villainized, violated even. In a lure of guilt, Greta pulled herself back. She didn't know what she should've felt ashamed for the most: the fact that she had to ask him for sex over talking about their wedding plans, or the fact that he denied it so simply.
Out of the theater and onto the parking lot, she hailed for an Uber and waited for it to arrive. Then, walking behind her, she looked back to see the confused and angry glare Julien had given her. "What the fuck was that?"
"Look, if you wanna hang out with Danny, then just hang out with him." She said.
"This isn't about Danny. This was a thing you wanted to do yourself, you told them that we were both going to be there tonight!"
Then, she hit him with the only thing reeling in her mind. "How come we haven't had sex yet?"
"Wh- what?"
"We've been together for two weeks now, and you barely kiss me."
"We've had sex!"
"Oh-" She scoffed and rolled her eyes. "How could I forget, that magical day you fucked me just minutes after I kicked your latest Covergirl model out of the guest room. Way to go, Nicholas Sparks, way to show a girl a good time!"
"What? So I'm the asshole because I just happened to not be in the mood for sex."
"Maybe you are!"
"If I'm an asshole, then you're a fucking child!" He shouted. "We don't live in a bloody erotic novel where we can fuck on a whim! We're adults, we have things to do, we have companies to run. Sometimes, I don't wanna come home and fuck you spontaneously, I'm sorry you think of me so little-"
Snapping, she cursed at him. "FUCK YOU!"
"Oh, grow up!" Shouted Julien. "Stop pretending you weren't acting that way a year ago, alright? Besides, Holly told me all the fun little activities you've gotten yourself into during our break, so stop acting like I'm the only one who needed to get their fix."
She had more to say. She wanted to. But the Nissan Altima that was Greta's Uber pulled up right behind her. "Don't wake me up when you get home." Was all she said, and getting nothing back from him, she couldn't tell if there was more to be had in the argument, or if he gave up just as much as she wanted to.
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Back home, she lay in her bed and browsed aimlessly through Instagram and YouTube. All she achieved was boredom, satisfaction, and sheer emptiness.
It had been an hour, and Julien wasn't here yet. The latest Taylor Swift album softly ran its way through her finally air-conditioned bedroom, but she remained in nothing but her panties and tank top as the need to be touched elevated since the argument they so publicly had in the parking lot.
After a while, she rummaged through her nightstand, searching the various items she had stuffed in there until she managed to finally pull out her light blue rabbit.
She examined the rubbery vibrator before turning it on, feeling as though it had been a while since she's last used it. But as soon as that loud, rough buzzing sound erupted between her fingers, she found more satisfaction in that splinter of a moment than he had all week.
Her pussy soaked with further anticipation. Dragging her panties down, she hurried to her comfort zone. Phone in one hand, rabbit in the other, she slowly inserted herself with the toy as the vibrations eased every inch of her walls it made contact with.
With some gay male porn pounding its way before her eyes, and the toy's power going on medium against the all-too-sensitive bud that was her clit, Greta moaned her way through the stress that had become of tonight.
She could watch these two perfectly fit and bearded men thrust it out in their locker room and not have to think about being mad at Julien for the rest of the session.
But then, through hazy eyes, she focused a little bit harder on the man with a musclebound physique topping his much thinner, but rippling lover against the bench. His thick beard, the gruff in his voice, it was all too familiar.
Now, Eli was back in her mind. This time, however, there was no guilt in the reverie. She merely envied not being in that scene. She hated the fact that she wasn't that poor bottom getting ran through by the bearded partner.
With a little more pressure added to her clit, she rolled her eyes back to the temptation that was her own memories.
She wanted Eli in this bed now, snatching poor Greta by her blonde locks, pounding his big hard cock - or dare she say it, his big black cock - deep into her aching cunt until she splattered every ounce of her juices onto him and onto the sheets.
"Fuck..." She muttered to herself, though truly wanting to mutter it to him instead. "Fuck me, please..."
It was on instinct, as though the much dirtier, impulsive part in her mind urged her fingers to put a pause on the porn and scroll through her contacts instead.
And seeing Eli's name, she hurried to call it. And as soon as his deep, southern twang crackled through the receiving end of her phone, Greta nearly whimpered in delight.
*What's up? What's wrong?*
*N- nothing's wrong...*
She breathed out, attempting to hide her moans.
*How um... Are you busy right now? What are you doing?*
*I ain't really home right now. Why? You need somethin'?*
*I- I uh... Hmmm, fuck...*
*Greta?*
*Can you cum?? C- come over, I mean...*
*What are you talkin' about? I ain't even in Seattle.*
Those last five words snapped her off of the edge she was climbing over, like the biggest destructive force laying waste to all her sexual endeavors that night was building up towards. Eli's sudden absence struck a nerve in her system that left her more enraged than aroused. And yet, she couldn't quite pinpoint why.
*What the fuck do you mean you're not in Seattle? Where are you? Why didn't you tell me you were moving away?*
*I'm not moving away,*
She could hear him sigh out.
*I'm just here for a couple days. And it's late, so if you don't want nothin', then I wanna go back to sleep.*
*Wait wait wait...*
She hurried out.
*What's going on? Where are you then?*
*Georgia.*
*Why?*
*Just some family shit goin' on.*
*Do you wanna talk about it?*
*Nah...*
He answered, only to seemingly regret the bluntness in his answer.
*It's fine, I mean. Don't worry about it.*
*Okay... But what happened? You know you can tell me anything, right? We're still friends?*
*Is that what we are now?*
*I- I at least thought we could be.*
*I dunno. You're with somebody now. Things are... Well, they different now. Don't you think?*
*They don't have to be though, Eli. We're in an open relationship, so you and I can still see each other. It doesn't have to be weird if you don't make it that way.*
*So you're subjectin' me to your side nigga now?*
*Eli... No. That's not what I meant.*
*Look, it's late and I'm tired.*
*Okay I get that but- Maybe when you come back, we can discuss things a little bit better? We can make this work, I'm sure of it. If we just- Hello...? Eli?*
But just like that, the call ended. No response was given, at least not a clear one. He hung up on her, leaving Greta drifting outwards into the aura of uncertainty.
And lying there, filled to the brim with more angst than pleasure, Greta felt tears slip from the corners of her eyes. For now, she realized that she was living in a world where she and Eli were far more apart than she ever wanted.
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