being in an office isn’t a normal thing for sonny wells.he’s sure some of georgia’s coworkers are confused about him being here, aloneespecially. but he has a wide expertise in letters. mostly ones from adoringfans, professing love, thanking him for showing them that skiing is a passion,and always being a great role model. a great role model… fucking funny now,isn’t it? opening envelopes feels like an old friend, a welcome distraction forhands that might usually knock over a coffee with their expressive nature. thetearing of the seal is like music to his ears each and every time, refusing toallow his mind to think too much about the words he’s saying. “i mean any andall of them could go either way,” he admits, setting the letters down indefeat, letter opener falling on the same surface beside them. there’s too muchin his mind in this very moment, too much for him to focus on to know if he wantsanswers at all. “don’t you think it’s fucking dumb as shit for people tocomment on things they know nothing about?” a definite rhetorical question.“like, riddle me this, reporter girl, how in the fuck does apollo matheson havethe right to tell me i don’t deserve frankie conte when the door isn’t locked.she could leave whenever she wanted to, peaches,” eyes bore into the stack ofletters before looking up, desiring to meet chestnut hues affixed to a computerscreen. “in fact, the door is not only unlocked, it’s wide fucking open. i amnot holding this chick hostage in our relationship,” a sigh, hands punctuatinghis sentence before picking the stack of letters back up and pulling the firstone’s contents out. “is it wrong for me to think that if she had enoughself-respect, she’d just leave?” it is wrong. “don’t answer that. but idon’t care if i’m hurting her. i didn’t care when i hurt apollo,” one letterfor the printing department. “i don’t give a single fuck if i hurt the majorityof people in my life aside from maybe you and skyler and… jesus, isn’t thatshit? shouldn’t i… care?” a letter for advertising. “i know i’m wasting yourtime. i just keep letting this shit sit in my head and it feels like i have tolet it out.” and he does, but perhaps his best friend’s sister isn’t who you’dexpect him to open the floodgates for. later on in the night, on his way home,greyson would be surprised ( confused, even ) by it, too.
georgia keeps eye contact with him for a moment, chuckling at the follow up to his rhetorical question. reporter girl, she rolls her eyes before turning around to face the monitors again, post-it note joining the dozens of others sticking from every angle out of the monitor. but this time, pretending not to be paying attention seems harder. because why, why would francesca conte walk out of a relationship with greyson wells? why would she give up what georgia has craved for eight years? it would make no sense. unless... the reporter pieces together the story before sonny confeses. i don’t care if i’m hurting her. georgia swallows, spinning her chair around to face greyson again. sure, her co-workers are already looking, but georgia is sure that one cold look will suffice for none of them to ever bring up this moment again. besides, they all must be grateful for the fact that she is distracted, gives them more time to get in their fucking articles before she starts hounding them. “what do you mean you are hurting her?” she asks, eyes seeking icy blue. “you don’t have to tell me,” she clarifies. after all, she is just a stand-in for skyler tonight. a replacement for his real friend. except... why would he care if he hurts her? because it would get him in trouble with her brother? most likely. breakfast doesn’t mean he cares for her. a couple of text threads doesn’t mean they are friends. a stolen sip does not mean he likes her. “look sonny, i know you didn’t come to me expecting to be coddled, so i’ll give it to you straight: hurting people, it shouldn’t feel as good as it does. lord knows i know that. but the satisfaction we get from it, what is it good for anyway? doesn’t fix anything.” georgia smacks her red lips, makeup still intact, meant to outlast bigger tragedies than those of that night. “you’ve had the shittiest thing happen to you. i can’t imagine what it’s like and i don’t think you’d want to tell me, but no matter how shitty it is it doesn’t give you a free pass to be an asshole, greyson. not to frankie, not to apollo, not to anyone. so don’t place the responsibility on others to put up with you or not put up with you, you are responsible for the hurt you cause. so deal with whatever it is you do care about.” georgia sighs, her hand moving to his cheek without permission, touching the spot right below his bruising skin. “and ice that eye.”
