Chapter Text
For as tautly as she stood, there was no pride in Sandy’s posture. She was upright not with confidence, but frustration, her chest puffed out in a way that suggested she was about to lean backward and scream. It wouldn’t have been out of character in the slightest. The violent sound of the door slamming behind her dissipated quickly into nothingness, leaving only the faint noise of her exasperated breathing in its wake, the weight of which left the air within the room that much more noticeable and uncomfortable. To Jeff, who sat firmly in his seat, eyes locked keenly on the woman in his doorway, the problem was as apparent as could be.
“I take it the audition didn’t go well?” he inquired, his voice inappropriately calm.
“Where’s Michael?” Sandy asked hastily, the grit in her tone suggesting to Jeff that she was not in the mood to put up with any of his quips. Seemingly without thought, she threw her bag haphazardly onto the table, quickly making her way to the couch before slumping dramatically into the seat beside Jeff, collapsing dejectedly next to him.
“He’s out at an audition,” Jeff explained. “He should be back…sooner or later.”
“Oh!” Sandy exclaimed angrily, suddenly sitting up straight and throwing her hands into the air. “What a surprise! Out at another audition he didn’t bother to tell me anything about!”
“He doesn’t normally tell you about his auditions, does he?”
“No, but things between us are different now! I’d have offered him support, if he’d told me anything! That’s what people do when they’re dating, Jeff; they support each other!” Sandy let out a sigh, taking with it the snappiness of her voice. “I don’t suppose you’d know a whole lot about that, though.”
Jeff shrugged apathetically. “Maybe I don’t know much about relationships,” he confessed, “but I do know a lot about Michael; enough to tell you that he’s not the sort of guy to change just because he’s seeing someone.”
“Please,” Sandy scoffed, “you don’t know him like I do. You’re not committed to him like I am.”
“I live with him. I’ve seen every relationship of his blossom, wilt, and die in the span of a few weeks, like the most expensive flowers on the market.”
Sandy’s lips parted slightly, as if she had a point to make, when Jeff continued speaking. “What’s impressive for a plant isn’t for a man. He’s held down work longer than he’s ever held down a relationship with a woman!”
“Michael and I have been friends for years now,” Sandy began, some vigour returning to her words, “and believe me; I’ve learned enough over the course of those years to tell you,” she pointed to Jeff’s chest, making certain to emphasize with her tone that her point held more weight than his, “he really does love me. He’s known me longer than any woman he’s ever been with! He wouldn’t have agreed to a relationship if he didn’t have any faith in us working out; he just needs time to get used to what we are now.”
Jeff couldn’t bring himself to agree. What Sandy was saying should have made sense, but it didn’t. Though he was in no mood to argue, Jeff just knew Sandy was wrong. There had always been something about Michael – something he had never given a name to himself, and had never been given one by anyone else – that Jeff had paid close mind to over the course of their friendship and cohabitation: his inability to make relationships work. It was an odd quirk of his, Jeff thought of the way Michael never seemed too bothered upon the end of romantic relationships, even despite showing his fair share of interest in the women he would briefly date, in the capacity he could. If anything, he had only ever seemed relieved to see his own relationships fizzle out and die, allowed once more to pour the entirety of his being back into acting without having to concern himself with anything – or anyone – else. It made Jeff wonder why Michael bothered agreeing to date at all, if he never seemed to enjoy it to the fullest.
Jeff’s train of thought was suddenly interrupted by Sandy, who spoke with a tinge of solemnness in place of the agitation with which she had argued just a moment prior. “I know he’ll listen to me when he’s back,” she sighed.
“It’s possible,” Jeff quipped in response.
“I just wish he’d tell me about stuff beforehand, so I didn’t have to come around here expecting a shoulder to cry on when there isn’t one!” The passion in Sandy’s voice had returned out of nowhere in full force, catching Jeff off guard. “I told him I had an audition today, and he’s still not here! Before we started dating, I would just vent to my cat, and that was good enough for me. And maybe that means Michael never had to make this sort of time for me when we were only friends…but he has to realize, some things change once you’re done being just friends!”
“If you really need one, you’ve got my shoulder,” Jeff reminded Sandy cordially. Upon hearing this, Sandy’s head perked up slightly. She stared at Jeff for a moment, before focusing her gaze upon the ground.
“I really do appreciate the offer, Jeff,” she admitted. “But I can’t confide in you like I can in Michael, you know? He’s my boyfriend. We’re supposed to have each other to talk to about stuff like this.”
Jeff didn’t much care for Sandy’s attitude in relation to dating, if it meant he couldn't help her when he felt the need. His opinion was even less fond, if it meant that Sandy would only ever feel dignified in turning to Michael for emotional support. It wasn’t that Michael was heartless or apathetic; it was simply that he was far from the vulnerable well of support Sandy was seemingly expecting him to have suddenly become upon being dubbed her boyfriend. Jeff couldn’t deny, he himself had never been the greatest when it came to advice; he answered all of Michael’s most desperate pleas for help with snarky jabs, and had never understood any of Sandy’s problems very well at all. But even so, he could tell Sandy wanted genuine support, and he felt willing to put his wit on the backburner to offer it as best he could.
“You clearly have a lot to talk about,” Jeff remarked absentmindedly, “and no one you think you can talk to about it; and Michael can’t suddenly be your only outlet. You’ll tell him something; he'll tell you something back, and it won’t be as nice as you’d have hoped; and you’ll assume he’s in a bad mood; and you’ll assume that’s somehow your fault; and he won’t know what to do; and you’ll feel bad because he can’t offer you a solution to a problem you think is too big for him to solve; and you’ll both end up more confused and miserable than you started off. If he comes back today and says he messed up his audition, you’ll assume it’s because you didn’t see him off. I’d bet money on it.” Out of his mouth, Jeff’s words didn’t sound as warm as he’d had liked them to, and he garnered as much quickly enough from Sandy’s lack of a reaction; but he felt they were true nonetheless, and knew it would do nothing but diminish the meaning of his point if he were to take them back. A blanket of silence befell the room as the sting of Jeff’s remark lingered in the air. It was apparent that Sandy, now slouched slightly forward in her seat, didn’t have a rebuttal, leaving Jeff to continue speaking. “All you’ve established is that Michael isn’t ready to handle your problems, no matter how responsible he is for doing so now. It just wouldn’t be right of either of us to let you rely on –”
All of a sudden, the apartment door opened once more with a familiar and startling creak, drawing both Jeff’s and Sandy’s attention to the source of the sound. As if one too many utterances of his name had summoned him, Michael now stood in the doorway. His expression and posture were hard to read; he appeared neither particularly enthusiastic nor upset, though his shoulders were held back and his brow furrowed slightly, suggesting he had something to get off of his chest.
“Michael!” Sandy exclaimed, jumping from her seat to join her partner under the doorframe.
“Hi, Sandy,” Michael replied quickly, his words sounding like little more than a reflexive response to an all-too-common greeting. Sandy cupped her hand around Michael’s arm, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Oh, Michael. How did the audition go?” she asked, sounding as if she’d entirely forgotten about her indignation toward not being offered so much as a peep about this audition prior. It appeared her question set off something within Michael, as he marched his way sternly into the living room upon its asking. “They didn’t want me,” he announced bitterly, “but you know what? See if I care!”
With a dramatic amount of woe, Michael fell into the couch next to Jeff, throwing his head back and crossing his arms tightly. Jeff eyeballed his roommate for a moment. “Looks like you might,” he remarked. Michael rolled his eyes at Jeff’s little quip. “This industry is my life, Jeff,” Michael groaned, “excuse me for sparing a modest amount of uncontrollable subconscious commitment, even in the face of injustice!”
“Oh, man…” Sandy grumbled, joining the duo of men in standing next to the couch, “Michael, I’m sorry.”
“You really don’t need to be,” Michael reassured, but Sandy shook her head. “That’s not true!” she protested. “If you’d told me you’d had an audition today, I’d have given you my support! I could have been there for you, if you had just let me know! I’m sorry.” Sandy paused briefly, before leaning toward Michael, who wore a confused expression upon his face. “Why didn’t you tell me you had an audition?” she quizzed.
“I don’t normally tell you about my auditions, do I?” Michael retorted.
“You didn’t need to, when we were just friends,” Sandy explained, adopting a more confrontational stance, “but we’re more than that now! I messed up my own audition today, and I thought you were going to be here to support me!”
“Well, I’m here now, aren’t I?” Michael’s voice was picking up the same sort of edge tangible in Sandy’s. “Do you want to talk about your day? Let’s do it, then,” he suggested. “What happened to you?”
Sandy let out a deep, heavy breath. “I wasn’t what they were looking for,” she confessed dryly. Michael gave her a moment to continue, expecting a hefty rant; but the room fell totally silent. “Is that it?” he asked. Sandy shrugged, “Yeah, I guess!”
“That can’t be it,” Jeff interjected. Sandy shot her friend an almost intimidating glance, ripe with impatience and anger. “It’s not!” she admitted loudly. “I can’t get into it if it feels forced!”
“Forced?” Michael parroted, to which Sandy nodded quickly in response. “Yes! It should feel natural! You shouldn’t have to ask me if I want you to ask me how I feel!”
It was clear to see that Michael was becoming agitated, Sandy’s words seemingly making very little sense to him, despite how much they apparently seemed to mean to her. He sat up straighter in his seat, getting that much closer to Sandy as he appeared ready to stand his ground. Jeff leaned ever so slightly away from the man, anticipating some best-avoided zest from him upon confrontation.
“Sandy,” he began, “I don’t know what you’re asking for anymore!”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“No! You want to talk to me, but you can only do it if it’s under the perfect circumstances?”
Sandy crossed her arms and hiked her shoulders up almost to her chin, her expression stern. “I want you to tell me when important things are happening in your life so that I can support you, and I want you to be able to support me when important things happen in mine without feeling pressured,” she corrected, seemingly trying to come across as significantly calmer than she really was, despite her body language vehemently betraying her attempt. “We’re dating now; we owe each other at least that much!”
“You didn’t care this much before we were dating,” Michael countered.
“It wasn’t the same!” Sandy snapped, visibly startling both Michael and Jeff. It was never unlike Sandy to raise her voice, but the sudden abandonment of her quieter demeanour had made it that much more unsettling. “Come on, Michael,” she sighed, her voice once more at an appropriate volume, “I know for a fact you’ve been with other women – how can you not know this? Friendship and romance aren’t the same!”
“The women I dated before you were too busy with their own careers to focus this much on mine,” Michael replied callously, a tinge of venom on his tongue. Sandy hoped it was unintentional, her eyes widening with hurt. Michael continued, unceasing in his insensitivity.
“If you’d stop thinking so much about my career and look at your own, you wouldn’t need to come here to tell us about your failed auditions at all!”
Sandy let out an offended scoff, making her astonishment and offense plain to see as she came up with a response to Michael’s accusations. She obviously hadn’t expected such a lashing from her boyfriend, in whom she’d expected to find some compassion, perhaps ridiculously. With effort, she spoke. “Well…excuse me for not being at my very best without the support of my boyfriend, who, mind you, was one of my closest friends, even before we became official!” she shouted, emulating as best as she could the malice of Michael’s tone. Seemingly without realizing it, Michael had risen from his seat, meeting Sandy’s gaze properly as she carried on speaking.
“Maybe the women you dated before me didn’t care this much; but I’m not those women, and I do care. A lot! You know that, Michael. When I need you, I need you! And if it’s too much of me to ask you, my own boyfriend, for the luxury of your support…”
Michael stared at Sandy intensely, not once breaking eye contact with her. It was obvious this was only making her tenser as she struggled to conjure the words from out of her throat, creating an incredibly unnatural and unbearable silence within the room, nearly palpable in its presence. Michael himself appeared all too eager to see what Sandy would say, his gaze unnervingly piercing – nearly deliberately so.
“…Then fine!” Sandy finally spat, throwing her arms out to her sides, each finger outstretched like independent ends on the branches of a withered tree, “I won’t bother! How’s that?”
“Sandy, come on. You’re being dramatic,” Michael accused, putting a hand out as Sandy stomped off to the doorway, her bombastic getaway plainly inevitable. He clearly knew what she was getting at with her outlandish proclamation, and he seemed completely unwilling to entertain it.
“Oh, am I?” Sandy turned quickly on her heels, facing Michael once more as if to try and intimidate him as he had done to her prior, albeit unsuccessfully, as Michael maintained his dominance over the atmosphere in the room.
“And why’s that such a problem now? That’s exactly what you wanted, right? You want me to focus less on you and more on being dramatic, don’t you? Well, here you go!”
Michael let out a groan, not about to play the game Sandy was clearly trying to initiate. “You know what I mean,” he replied tiredly, “and I know exactly what you mean now.”
“Yeah? And what’s that?”
“Nothing! I know you well enough to know you’ll leave for 5 minutes and come back to apologize for being gone so long!”
Sandy bowed her head and let out a throaty hum, her frustration supressed behind bitten lips. “No, I’m not!” she harped suddenly, theatrically swinging open the door standing before her. “I’m sticking to my word,” she announced. “I’m making a commitment! And you know what? You can call me when you figure out what that’s like,” lowering her head slightly, the look in Sandy’s gaze suddenly became that much more aggressive, catching Michael by surprise, “because you seem to have a real issue with commitment!”
Michael took a step forward, but it was too late – Sandy was gone, the door slamming aggressively behind her as she stormed out of the apartment, leaving Jeff and Michael to float in the sea of tension that had been made of the room, the silence between them only broken by the jangling of hanging fixtures on the walls reacting to the violent force of the door.
Jeff, who had remained uncharacteristically quiet throughout the whole ordeal, silently observed Michael as he stared impassionedly at the doorway, presumably waiting for Sandy to come back in tears to apologize, or to make one final remark. But as the seconds passed, he seemed to realize that this wasn’t going to happen. Just as suddenly as his frantic companion had left, Michael himself turned towards the hall, quickly heading to his room without uttering so much as a single word to try and lighten the mood for his or Jeff’s sake, leaving his roommate all alone in the living room once more, just as confused as ever. However, in the back of Jeff’s mind, swirling and mingling with his confusion, was concern – concern for Michael, who he had never seen react so passively or quietly to the aftermath of an argument; especially not when it concerned the integrity of his character. He found himself wanting to know exactly what was up.