If It Makes You Happy...

Scene 1: Outside The Helmsley Hotel

Leo Rylin

Yesterday felt more normal than any day has the past few months. Rolling around in bed while kissing Heather is like finally going back after being homesick for years.

She didn't want to spoil the moment by bringing reality into it, and I figured she was right. If we started talking about why we ever stopped kissing, we'd make each other upset and I prefer to just make out.

We felt up each other for a bit and then said good night.

And I thought about her. All night.

Heather tapped on my shoulder. "Hello," she smiled.

"Hey," I replied, "ready to talk?"

"Sure. I know it must've been torture considering how open you like to be."

"Kinda, yeah." I shrugged, casually. "But It gave me time to talk myself out of all the stupid stuff I would have said."

"Such as?"

"We shouldn't do that again."

"Do what?"

And I kiss her to show her and explain to her and because I should've started this conversation with a "Good afternoon," and "How are you?" One thing I always loved about kissing her other than how good it felt was how it said everything. Like there was no break from talking to each other when we stopped to make out. Kissing said I like you, and kissing back said I like you too.

"Oh," Heather said, warmly still in my grasp.

"I was right to think it. But I know I won't stop."

"Good...I don't want you to."

"Thing is, butterfly—I like where we were getting, you know, as friends."

"And friends don't often do that."

"You ever think about if it would have been easier to have listened to what you said before? About us only working in my bedroom?"

"You mean when we were hiding from everyone and secretly making out whenever we saw each other?"

"It kinda made sure we didn't take things too seriously and end up like we did...sad and hating each other. I don't want to do that again."

"I don't either."

"If we're gonna do this then we should keep it simple."

"I'm guessing you have some ideas..."

"Yeah," I breathed out. "I don't want other people's input on us doing anything again, so can we be private about this?"

"Okay."

"And, since we're not together, we don't get girlfriend/boyfriend privileges. We can't tell each other what to do or make expectations."

"Meaning...we can't expect each other not to be with other people..."

I scoffed while laughing. "You want to know if you can still make out with Adrian?"

"Oh, so you do know his name?" She teased.

"I can't tell you what to do, but I don't really wanna make out with someone else, so...

"Neither do I, for the time being."

"For the time being," I mocked.

"Anything else?"

"If either of us starts to feel like we can't handle the casual thing...we stop. Cold turkey. That way no one gets hurt."

"Just like that and it's over?"

"No hard feelings and we'll still be friends."

"Sounds easy enough..." Heather stared down at the ground.

"Are you sure you've got nothing to add?"

"I think you covered the whole 'friends with benefits' topic."

"Not exactly 'friends with benefits.' I don't fuck exes." I shook my head. "That sounded harsh...my bad."

"It's okay."

"I just mean it kinda blurs the lines too much."

"Of course."

"It's really close, you know? Intimate."

"Yes."

"Yeah?"

"I have a question."

"Okay."

"What can we do together?"

"You mean sex-"

"No, not that. I mean...could we go to restaurants together or events or just..."

"Hang out?" I asked, and she nodded. "I don't see why not. Friends do it all the time."

"Right." Anytime she verbally agreed with me, I could see the gears grinding in her brain and uncertainty all over her body.

"Butterfly...you're good with this, right? Because if not-"

"I know, if I can't handle this, I only have to say it."

"Exactly."

Her hand came up to my cheek, and she smiled solemnly. "But at what cost?"

I shook my head. "There's no-"

"I have to go," she interrupted.

"Huh?" I grabbed her wrist before she could run off.

"My mother is having this tea thing. She'd murder me if I missed it."

"Oh." I let her hand go. "Are you still moving away?"

"I thought about it."

"And?"

"I would probably be miserable if I left." Her lips pressed together as she stepped back from me. "I'd have to find a new friend."

Scene 2: Lickster Records

Matt Jensen

"Hey, babe," Campbell announced as he came through the door:

"Fuck off," I chuckled.

"You coming out tonight?"

"Cheerleader's party?"

"Hell yeah."

"Maybe."

"You know she's trying to get someone to play last minute. Why don't you get your little band together?"

"I dunno."

"Do it. Chicks go crazy for it. I want to see the groupies." Campbell hits the bell on the desk over and over until I snatch it away.

"Don't touch that."

Elle peeked her head out of the curtain to see what needy customer was too impatient to ring the bell only once.

"Hey," Campbell eyed her.

"Stop." I shook my head at him.

"Why? She's friendly."

"Leave her alone."

He walked toward her, instead. "What's up? I'm Cam."

"So?" She said, unimpressed. Thank God...

"You want to go to a party tonight?"

Elle raised an eyebrow."Yours?"

"No, Chester High cheerleader is doing the honors."

"Cheerleader?" She scoffed, disgust clear in her voice.

"Go, fight, win," he mocked, pep moves and all.

"Nice."

"Pick you up at 8."

"My shift ends in an hour."

He smirked. "So you want to get picked up early?"

"No, I was just wondering where you planned to find me."

"Well, you're going to give me your address."

"Am I?"

He stepped forward, seductively. "I think you want to."

"Campbell," I complained.

"What?" He huffed.

"Employees only," I said, referencing the curtain he was nearly on the other side of.

He ignored me and faced her again. "You gonna give in or what?"

"Elle, if you think I'm an asshole, you're going to fucking hate this guy-"

"Mind your business, Matthew," she griped, taking a pen from off the counter and actually giving him her address.

I can't believe it...

"Isn't that why we're not cool now?" I threw my arms out in confusion.

"So, Elle," Campbell nods, finally learning her fucking name. "I'll see you later."

"Don't be late."

She walked off without another word and took my good day with her.

"Ha," Cam taunted me.

"Don't go out with her, man."

"You snooze, you lose."

"Come on. She just got dumped by a guy who treated her bad."

"Vulnerable, then?" He teased. "Sad? Needs a shoulder to cry on? A dick to sit-"

"Shut the fuck up."

Campbell winked. "I'll keep you updated."

Fuck's sake, she'd be better off going out with Charlie Sheen.

Another customer approaches the counter with four posters and a punch card. "I get a free one," he showed me.

"Can you hold on a sec?" I asked, leaving the counter as I spoke. "Elle." I find her on the sofa in our lounge. "He just wants to get laid."

"Everyone just wants to get laid. Welcome to the 20th century."

"But he's a moron. You can do better."

"Oh, now you want to give pointers?"

"I'm really fucking sorry, Elle."

"I really don't fucking care."

"I like you a lot and maybe if I told you that before, you wouldn't be so mad about me not ratting out Leo."

She kept eye contact with me...silently.

I've confessed...reject me if you want, but please just hear me out.

Elle scoffed. "Tough luck."

Scene 3: The Helmsley Hotel

Heather Blakely

"Aren't you a picture," Trevor said, joining me

in the kitchen.

"It's my dying wish."

I and the house are decorated as pastel exhibits of Camille Blakely's good taste and 'good intentions.'

It's a posh baby shower for Vivian. One of my mother's acquaintances found out that Arthur Bailey is having another child and couldn't resist giving her life purpose for a while. Misfortune is the most popular topic in the city, and the scandal of a nobody giving birth to the bastard child of one of the richest men in New York was too good to ignore.

My mother finds Arthur to be particularly distasteful.

"Say 'thank you, Trevor,'" he smiled devilishly as he showed me the bottle of bourbon.

"In tea?"

"Instead of tea." I pondered the thought but ultimately chose his drink of choice. "There's my Heather."

"It is medicinal at this point." I take the bottle and gesture for him to follow me up to my room. The guests will notice if our Earl Grey smells suspiciously of Pappy Van Winkle. I stop on the stairs and squint my eyes at a woman below. "Oh, interesting, your sister is back."

"For too long, it seems." He grumbled and grabbed my hand to urge me away. "She claims it's the unborn child but I doubt that is what's keeping her."

"I believe I am also staying on the east coast, after all. I haven't told my parents yet. They will lecture me."

"Then tell them it's a career move and get an internship somewhere," Trevor suggested. "A Bailey internship. You can work for me."

"Doing what, exactly?"

"Whatever it is you desire," he replied in the flirtatious way he always does. I amusedly rolled my eyes and wrapped my arms around him. "A hug?" I could hear the surprise in his voice but he didn't hesitate to hug me back.

"I'm a little sad."

"What ails you?" Trevor lifted my chin to see my face, but I avoid eye contact and look down, shamefully. "Ooh, it's something guilty."

"It's Leo," I pouted.

"Do not tell me you're back together."

"We're not...fully."

And that's not what bothers me. It's the fact that he wants to kiss me and essentially ignore me after. We can be pressed against one another leaving bruises on each other's necks but if anyone were to ask—I'm just Heather his ex-girlfriend.

There is going to be a point in time when he wants to "make out with someone else," and I'll only know when I happen to see it...

"What do you see in this opossum?"

"I could never prevent it. Leo and feelings are grouped together in my mind." No matter which feeling he's impacting that day. "And, don't insult him." Today it's longing...

A knock interrupted his judgment and we both panicked.

I hid the bottle behind my pillow and put our teacups on the floor next to the bed. Trevor signed for me to relax and stay quiet as he opened the door.

"False alarm," he sighed as Lisa giddily walked in.

"Hi, Heather!"

"I had no idea you were coming," I said in relief.

"My aunt-in-law said I might know you, and it turns out I do." The Lindley's haven't fully acclimated into the pretentious Manhattan social environment. They may be too nice...

"How well?" Trevor challenged. "Did you know Heather has backtracked her way into Leonardo's mouth? No. Lisa, keep up."

"Aw, good," she smiled. "I was ridden with guilt for taking those yearbook pictures of you two."

"Lisa, that is not keeping up." Trevor crossed his arms

I lightly hit his arm. "She doesn't hate him like you do."

"Or you do."

Touché.

"Audrey is going to be such a bitch about this," Lisa mumbled. "But...don't tell her I said that."

"Could we not announce this to anyone else at all? He wants to keep it between me and him."

"Why?"

"Because when we were a secret...it was fun and exciting."

"And the relationship was boring and time consuming," Trevor concluded. "Been there, done that."

"No, it was also fun and exciting...and intense and serious. Perhaps it was too much for us."

"The answer is to not get serious?" Lisa questioned.

"He clearly believes so." But nothing is ever that simple...

"You can't do it," Trevor doubted.

"Yes, I can."

"If you could, we wouldn't be talking about it," Lisa said, slyly.

"I, for one, feel all warm inside now that you've made us your confidantes against his wishes."

"Hush."

"Why you're in emotional distress over the prince of poor is beyond me, but-"

"No insults."

"But, he can't do it either. He was a man possessed when it came to you." He climbs on top of me and pins my arms down. "If you're not his girlfriend, what is to keep you from exploring other pathways?"

The awful feeling in my stomach when I think about not having him.

I let out a sigh. "How do I become you?"

Trevor smirked. "Italian suits."

"You were never as upset and confused in your relationship with Alison."

"Mm," he nodded. "Alison's lovely, isn't she?"

"Then why treat lovely girls badly?"

"I am certain Leonardo is not stupid just naive. If he walked in the room right now, he'd lose his mind."

"He would...but what would that change?"

"I'll just say this: So much for not getting serious." He chuckled as he moved off of me. "I should start an advice column."

Scene 4: Madison Street

Zach Teeling

"Good night," Evan said.

I checked the clock and it's only 9:00 P.M.

"No talking on the phone for an hour with Karlie pretending you like 90210?"

"I don't feel good."

"Oh...what's wrong?"

"My head hurts," he responded, slightly muffled by his pillow.

"We've got like—cold syrup. It tastes like shit, but it works."

"That's okay. I'll just sleep it off. Thank you, though."

"No problem." I look over the side of the bed and see him laying on a pile of blankets. "Do you want to sleep in the bed?" He furrowed his eyebrows. "I mean, we can switch. I'll sleep there for tonight."

"You don't have to do that. I'll be fine."

"We can share...it's not like we're cavemen who can't control ourselves. We're in love with other people...you'd just be more comfortable on the bed."

Evan kept quiet...and I started to regret not doing the same. He'll always have the advantage...there won't ever be a time where Evan doesn't know I feel something for him...even a small something.

He crawls into my bed and lays with his head at the other end. Top and tail like someone forced us to sleep next to each other.

"Good night," I said, ignoring my racing heart.

"You're in love with Oliver for real?"

"Yeah." I can pretend love means in love' if it helps forget which one I associate with you. "Why?"

"It took you longer to fall in love with me."

"No, it didn't."

"You wouldn't say it."

"Because." I shrugged. "I didn't want to say it if you were just going to go be with someone else after." And you are..."Has she said it?"

"It's only been a few weeks."

Which means 'no,' and...

"I loved you too fast," I whispered to myself.

"What'd you say?"

"Nothing." I rolled onto my side."You should try to sleep."

My eyes shut tightly enough that I feel them shaking. And by the way the bed is shaking from Evan moving around, I'm assuming it will be a long night.

Oh?

His chest pressed to my back, and a hesitant arm came across my torso.

"It helps with pain," he explained. "The brain releases chemicals that make you feel better. Coach would always joke around and tell us that if we're that sore we should just cuddle each other."

I swallowed hard. "...Does it work?"

"I think so."

"Okay, then." I pulled him across me tighter. "Just to help you sleep."

"Yeah...good night."