#listen their historical counterparts have enough angst that i don't like writing more but

[louisdupont]

Come Here Often? (I Do, Actually) - Part IV

This chapter is not as happy as the rest, which is why it’s shorter. I literally kicked and dragged my heels on this one, and I freely admit I am not great at angst. 

Things to Know: Alex is a copy/speechwriter at a generic firm in NYC.

Part  I -  II  -  III

Putting the last few touches on the apartment–which is now tidier probably than it has been in months–Alex pours two glasses of the actually-posh wine he’d splurged on earlier after he’d gotten phone call he’d been wanting. It’s Wednesday night, and he hasn’t seen Eliza in some 50-odd hours (since Tuesday morning)–bad enough under normal circumstances, but it’s even worse given the great news he’s got to share with her. John had to take his phone all evening to stop him texting her in paragraphs when they’d gone out for drinks (which Alex secretly agreed was stupid and might dilute the celebratory making out), and he’d only just gotten it back after he’d kicked all his roommates out.

 He’s practically vibrating with excitement when the door swings open to reveal Eliza a few minutes later, sweeping her up into his arms for an apologetically firm kiss as a greeting.

 “Well, hello,” she says breathlessly, arms still wrapped around his neck after they pull away, faces still close.

 “Good show?” he manages to ask, still holding her feet a few inches off the ground so that their faces are level and bodies are still pressed tightly together. They’re practically the same height, so all of this is unnecessary–except for the touching, obviously.

 “I tripped running away from Nino, so my knee kills right now, but yes, mostly,” she grins, letting him walk her backwards toward the couch now that he’s let her feet back to the ground. With one last affectionate stroke of his cheek, she lets herself sink down into the cushions while he pads off to the kitchen.

 “As long as you did get away,” Alex smirks with a twinge of mostly-in-jest jealousy. Acting is acting, sure, but the guy who plays Nino has a pretty okay face, great voice, and is basically paid to kiss Alex’s girlfriend every night–for that, he can only manage like 79% chill with the guy.

 With two wine glasses and now an ice pack in hand, Alex returns to her and they arrange themselves carefully so that he’s sitting with his arm along the back of the couch with her tucked under and facing him. He steals one more kiss and that’s it, all his chill is gone, and he grins excitedly.

 “So listen, I have some news.”

 She looks mildly surprised from the rim of her glass. “Is this why I didn’t hear from you for four hours? People were taking bets on what happened to you. My money was on you falling into a manhole.”

 He’d always thought she liked that he was incapable of anything less than a paragraph text, but that was a conversation for another time.

 “Chris Pike’s people called me.”

The same Christopher Pike that was the Democratic candidate running for New York’s governorship, who Alex had been writing for sparingly at first, but more regularly as of late. Normally, his assignments had a little more parity, but apparently the Pike campaign had taken a liking to how Alex spun his word webs.

 “You know how they’ve been using my speeches?” Eliza nods, sitting up a little straighter. “They want me to come on staff officially, join them on the campaign–they’re offering deputy speechwriter. Their primary guy apparently shat the bed and they need someone quick to go on the road and start putting together talking points so they don’t lose momentum. I leave for Albany on Friday.”

Eliza’s face hasn’t changed really as he lays his bombshell on her, but she’s probably just processing how huge of a break this is for him. Chris Pike is a well-respected Democrat within the party and the state–he’d served in Congress and the man had a ton of connections. Being asked to join a gubernatorial campaign as an official speechwriter was an even bigger break than Alex had been waiting for, and it was his first real chance to make his mark on something important. Being able to share it with Eliza was so great–as someone who looked well on her way to a possible Tony nomination (he’d been reading theater blogs, yes), she would appreciate that his career was taking off to match hers.

 It’s weird that her face doesn’t reflect that joy he’s sure she feels.

 “The election’s in November,” she says a little flatly, wheels in her head still turning. “It’s not even August.”

 Alex’s lips purse and he half shrugs in a non-verbal ‘I don’t get it, please continue so that I may better understand why you’re not congratulating me’ way. And she obliges.

 “No, I mean, it’s great, obviously, but,” Eliza rubs her forehead, which is still creased in thought. “I know it’s a good job, but that’s four months that, what? You’ll be gone….?”

 Alex nods, still not grasping her muted reaction. “Yeah, he wants me to go with him to the DNC first”–” which Alex plans to network the SHIT out of–“before we restart local campaign efforts.” He scoots closer, scooping her hands into his as he tries to further explain. “Babe, I’m not writing random shit anymore. No more fundraiser keynotes, no more dumbass corporate press releases. You know Pike! His politics are great–the man wants to affect real change, and I will be there. Helping him communicate, helping him build.”

 She finally smiles, but it’s lopsided and still not fully bright as she squeezes his hands. “Of course I’m happy for you, and you’re right–Pike is a great candidate to serve, just like you wanted. I just–” one shoulder comes up in a half-shrug. “I thought you’d talk to me before just taking it. Two days isn’t–”

 “Of course I’d take the job,” Alex cuts her off, confused. “Why wouldn’t I take this ridiculously amazing opportunity?”

 Eliza blinks. “I didn’t say you wouldn’t, I said–”

 “Why aren’t you happy about this? I thought you’d be happy about this.”

 Again, he interrupts, and this time she withdraws  her hands from him. The bite in his tone wasn’t a mistake the first time, it seems.

“All I said was that I thought we might’ve talked about something like this, since it’s kind of a big deal–”

“It’s a huge deal, Eliza!” Alex stands and starts pacing, but he’s only half-aware–his brain is already off and racing, zooming back towards those pits of insecurity, of worthlessness. “I graduated top of my class after working my ASS off, I deserve this. Pike takes me to the Democratic convention, I could get on with a senator, or another congressman. If I do well, maybe Pike keeps me on. This is it, ‘Liza, my life can finally start now.”

He doesn’t have to be nothing any longer, not with a platform this big.

“Your life can finally start now,” Eliza parrots, albeit slower, like she’s not quite sure but he really did say that. Her careful tone is abandoned, and she looks up at him, her lips forming a thin line. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were so unhappy. So stuck.”

 Oh.

“‘Liza, that’s not–I meant, my career. Obviously. There’s so much we need to do as a party, as a country, and now I’m getting my foot in the door. How do you not understand that this is a good thing?”

“No, I get it.” She’s firing back more quickly now, and if Alex could see beyond his blinders, he might heed the warning. “I just thought that you already had a good thing, but apparently it’s fuck that, you’re ready to abandon it without even considering speaking to me.”

Now Alex is confused, and Eliza’s angrier than he’s ever known.

“Did it ever occur to you that good for you might not be the exact same thing as good for us?” She waits a beat, and Alex can only gape, speechless for the first time, maybe ever. His girlfriend isn’t done making her point. 

“Of course I want you to have all the things you’ve worked so hard for–Alex, you’re brilliant, and locking you up in a room pumping out one-offs for every corporate stooge that’s too lazy to even try is a ridiculous waste. You deserve a chance, and I know you’re going to spin gold for this guy. I am so proud of you.” 

The corner of her mouth almost quirks up in a smile at that before she remembers and pushes out a huff of a breath. “But now, what? You’ll gone for months, no discussion at all? Do you understand how selfish that is?”

Her tone has mellowed into something a little pleading, a little wheedling, but they haven’t been dating long enough for her know how to back him down entirely.

“I can’t believe you’re asking me to turn down the best opportunity I’ve ever had,” Alex says stonily, and she blanches.

“This isn’t–oh my god. I never said that. This is about your attitude, and how I feel about the fact that the last two months don’t even warrant two seconds of your brain power in light of this. That you wouldn’t even stop to think about how we would work this out now that you’ll be moving all over New York and I’ll be here. It. Didn’t Even. Register.”

 Finally, she softens, if only a bit.

 “I just wish you would’ve talked to me first. That’s all.”

 In the back of his mind, Alex knows there’s something else he could say. He can see the light at the end of that tunnel, the path he should take because in a universe where maybe he hadn’t had to fight for every goddamn thing he could grasp, hadn’t had to shout constantly to even be heard, hadn’t had to be happy with scraps until NOW–maybe then, in that universe, he would say the right thing.

 But it’s not that universe.

 “Don’t act like I don’t fucking care. You know I do. The only difference between then and now is, now, your boyfriend isn’t going to be some grunt pushing paper in a back room anymore. I can actually make something of myself, someone you can be proud of–this is my shot.”

Something glimmers behind Eliza’s eyes, an emotion he can’t quite place. Somewhere between resignation and outright sadness, he guesses.

“I know. So why didn’t you just wait to talk to me about this? What are we going to do?”

#hamliza #listen their historical counterparts have enough angst that i don't like writing more but #alex isn't alex if he isn't a dick 57% of the time #sigh eliza deserves better but she wants him alas #my writing