The Smolder

Gretchen had woken up before Flynn, but she was in no state to move yet. Her head ached something awful, her muscles were tense, her skin felt sticky, what had happened? She was trying to get her bearings on everything, and she breathed a sigh of relief when she realized she was still in her apartment. Just then, she could feel the man beside her stir, and she sat up as he rolled off the couch. The expression on her face was nothing less than unimpressed as she looked down at him. As she woke up fully, she really just how much they fucked up and realization dawned on her face, a flash of panic in her eyes. “No. No I don’t. Did we..shit.. Spinelli is going to murder us.” Mostly her. Or him. No, mostly her. She’d done this before, but never to this degree. She was royally screwed, even if she did think she was in the right. Kinda. 

“Pull your shit together, Flynn, I’ll be right back, I feel disgusting.” She jumped up and ran into the bathroom to clean off whatever was on her skin and pulled a bathrobe around her. She clutched at her phone and thought for a minute. She needed to text Spinelli, so she did so quickly and went back into the living room. “If Spinelli kills me, this is on you. You’re just as bad as the rest of them.” She threw herself into the armchair as she spoke. “If only Theodore were here,” she muttered in frustration.

Flynn couldn’t believe this was happening - slowly he started to try and pull himself together, washing his face in the kitchen sink and trying to keep calm. He had fucked it all up, he’d ruined his  . . . well, whatever he had going with Spinelli and now he was going to have to face this - and he knew it would not end well for him, or for anyone. Maybe she’d forgive Gretchen, but he didn’t really know much about how girls worked when it came to other girls. But he knew one thing for sure - he felt like crap.

When Gretchen came out he stared at her “Me? How is this on me? It takes two to tango and uhm . .. well . . . i think we tangoed” he groaned and ran his hands threw his hair “You’re telling me you don’t remember anything from last night? Because i remember you pulling me back here and that’s about it.” the smell of wine hit his nose as he sat on the couch “Oh, yeah, and that bottle” he grimaced “That’s my bad. Sorry” 

“Woah woah woah - the rest of them?” he took mild offence, but only mild because he knew in his heart of hearts that she was probably right. “Wait, who’s Theodore?”

Spinelli stared at Flynn as he answered the door, fighting the urge to just sob and run right there and then. Or maybe punch and run. Either way, Spinelli knew that punching him wasn’t an option. Looking around herself, Spinelli nodded her head as she stepped back into the apartment. A sniff escaped her nostrils as she took a look around.

It was a complete mess. He was a mess. She saw the matching hole in the wall and found herself trying not to laugh. It was stupid really. They both were. Him especially. “You’re a mess.” Spinelli said simply as she picked up a Chinese take away menu. She threw to towards him gently. “Order me the usual.” She muttered as she walked back into the kitchen. She didn’t want to admit that she needed to see him, or needed to be near him, she couldn’t.

Seeing her in his place was something he never expected to have again. He was sure she was gone, and gone for good. His eyes never left her as she looked over the room and for a split second, when she was looking at the punch he’d put through the wall, he thought he saw her smile a little. When she asked for her usual take out, he didn’t hesitate. It was like his body knew the number and he barely noticed placing the order before it was done. “They’ll be here in 20 minutes” he said, his voice sounding lighter than it had since this all happened

Spinelli had thought he would never come back, that it was all over and she would have to pick up the pieces that were left of her. She fell onto her boring apartments sofa, and found herself sobbing into her pillows. She hadn’t gone near her bed, she had dragged everything to the living room and put on a stupid television show. Not that she was paying any attention.

Not until she heard him screaming outside her door. She had covered her face and felt her heart pound as he yelled her an apology, his words were so raw. She had never really seen him like this. She waited a good ten minutes before pulling herself from her makeshift bed. She opened up the door and dragged the note in. She set it on the side, and went to sleep. Spinelli couldn’t face the note.

Not for two days.

She hadn’t left her apartment since the incident, and she had finally gotten the courage to read the note. None of the guys had ever done this for her, they had all just shrugged and left and… Spinelli threw the paper on the floor as she let another tear roll down her cheek. Pulling on her hoodie and opened up her front door, Spinelli headed towards Flynn’s apartment. She couldn’t stop herself, nothing would at this point.

Standing in front of the familiar door, she knocked three times. She looked a mess, but she was past caring about her looks. About anything really.

Flynn had pretty much set up shop on his couch and in his kitchen. He’d skipped work and didn’t leave except to get more to drink, and he’d done that twice already. His hair was tousled and he hadn’t shaved in days. The only reason he’d showered at all was because his own smell had woken him up. He had takeouts and bottles all splayed across his apartment that once had art and laughing. 

He found that the more he moved about the apartment the more Spinelli seemed to pop up. A brush here, a paint tube there, a sketch book somewhere else. It was as if she’d just shed art-supplies and clothes everywhere she walked. He started to make a little pile of her things, but wound up stopping because he didn’t want to have to face that she had actually left.

She’d left him, and hadn’t looked back. He was drinking on his couch listening to Bruce Springsteen when he heard a knock at the door - probably his boss wondering where the hell he’d been, or someone finally complaining about the noise from the other day. 

He groaned as he was forced to leave his couch, but what was on the other side of the door, he couldn’t have been ready for. Spinelli was standing there in front of him, looking rough and tired, and like she’d been crying for days, she was standing there, just like the first time. His chest lightened seeing her - she was the one who knocked, but seeing her in this state and knowing it was because of him made his stomach twist 

Spinelli hated them both so much. She hated even looking at Flynn, she hated even thinking about Gretchen being all over him. Touching his arms, his face, everywhere… Spinelli had to step back before she slapped him. She turned away from him as she covered her face. “I can’t believe you are even arguing with me about this!” Spinelli growled as she clenched her teeth together.

“Just like I can’t pretend that you have hurt me so badly Flynn. You and that fucking skanky ass bitch.” Spinelli grabbed Vito a second time as she walked towards the door. She pulled it open and just walked out. She couldn’t deal with any of it. So she just stormed towards her apartment.

He watched her go, her words still burning in his ears, and he let her leave. He turned back into his apartment and sighed, his head pounding and his chest tight. He couldn’t really believe any of this was happening, but what he could believe the least was that it took this long to happen. He’d gotten so used to her being around, to being in his apartment and his life, he knew it was too good to last and he’d fuck up eventually. 

He stormed to the kitchen, opened the bottle of rum and took a good drink before spitting it out and spluttering across the kitchen. It tasted like acid. He returned feeling defeated and sat on the couch, his inner voice doing a number on him. I should have seen this coming. She’s better off without me. I fuck everything up. Surprise Surprise Flynnigan did it again! As he sank down into the couch he heard a crack that didn’t come from his ribs.

He’d sat on and broke on of Spinelli’s brushes. He stared at it’s thin spine, snapped and cracking, the dried paint on it peeling away from the wood below and the little hairs at the top splayed out in all directions. It was a tiny brush and he’d broken that too. She’d left him. She’s walked out on him. Just like Max. 

Whatever it was in him, maybe the bit of rum that had made it to his stomach or the memory of his brother or the fact that he couldn’t let angry words be the last thing she heard from him, he jumped up from his seat, rushed to a drawer and pulled out a pencil and paper, scribbled a note and roughly tapped the broken brush to it, trying to tape it back together first. He doubted that she’d speak to him, but he needed, no, he wanted to do something.

He rushed down the hall to her apartment “Spin! SPIN! SPINELLI!” he thudded on her door, not caring who heard him “SPINELLI I’M  . . .” he sighed, his head pressed against the door “SPIN I’M SORRY. I FUCKED UP, I KNOW I DID, EVERYONE EXPECTS THAT FROM ME . . . AND THEY’RE USUALLY RIGHT. I KNOW YOU CAN’T FORGIVE ME, BUT I . . . i . . .i just wanted you to be happy. . . ” his voice was course and thick, barely above a whisper “and i was foolish to think you could be with me.” he backed up and cleared his throat, speaking at a normal pitch again, so she could hear “You left this, i’m just going to leave it here for you” he placed the brush and the note at her door, waited a moment to see if she’d come out but when she didn’t he turned to leave.

the note sate there, waiting for her, the sad broken brush taped to a note that read:

“You could have warned me about this!” he looked at her “or, i don’t know, maybe tell her to not do that?! You do have some control in your own life you know - you can make decisions and tell your friends to back off” he snapped

The phone hit him in his ribs, right on the sore spot from where he’d cracked it from his fight a few weeks ago, he winced but got the phone and read them anyway, and sure enough there it was. But in among the colourful language and the confirmation that it was Gretchen’s idea, he saw a few things that stood out, like the word boyfriend and that she thought he never really liked her

“Is that’s what you really think of me?” he half yelled at her “That i’m no better than the other scum that hurt you before - well maybe you’re right! I never pretended to be something better than i was, but don’t you dare think for a fucking moment that i never liked you. I liked you from the moment i met you.” he spat out, the words falling over themselves, leaving his lips and bouncing off the walls “But i guess that doesn’t matter since it’s clear that you’d rather never see me again.” He stopped where he’d been pacing and punched the closest wall, his fist driving right into the drywall and sending dust flying everywhere

“I’ve told her every time that I don’t like it. That I never want her to do it, and she does anyway Flynn!” He had no idea of what went on between the two girls, maybe if he did he wouldn’t be so welcoming of the bitch. Spinelli let Vito onto the floor deciding that it wasn’t fair for her to be screaming while he was so close to her face. He began to bark at Flynn again.

“Well you just went back to her apartment! I doubt you were playing board games!” Spinelli stormed right up to him. She jabbed his chest to push him back as she took the phone from him. “What did you do with her!? What did you do! Tell me Flynn!” Spinelli demanded with the tears stained on her cheeks. “How can you like me when you’ve done this?” Her voice had dropped to a whisper as she just stared right at him.

The yapping dog really made Flynn want to kick it, but the little bit of self restraint he had left stopped him, instead he just grabbed another fist full of treats and tossed them at the dog without looking from Spinelli “And you never once thought to talk to me about her?” 

“I. DON’T. KNOW.” He snapped, his words ringing in his own ears “Alright?! I don’t know what happened, i can’t fucking remember because i drank so god damn much that i blacked out! And she clearly didn’t have the courtesy to mention that she doesn’t remember either!” He paced again, trying not to focus on all the things he could throw against a wall or out the window