Eileen spent the day writing. The wounds Aaronâs words left still stung raw. She wanted to do something productive with the pain and heartache. She sat starring at her screenplay for hours, constantly referencing back to the original play and the research sheâs done. Though, not matter how hard she tweaked her words, nothing seemed to feel real enough. Genuine.
Her agentâs phone call interrupted Eileen before she could pull her hair out in frustration. He had good news, new auditions, call backs and scripts on the way from producers. More busy work until she got another job. If Eileen didnât get paid, her agent wasnât getting paid. He wanted her to sign a contract, fast.Â
She put her agent on speaker as he droned on about a potential brand deal and opened up her fridge to grab a beer. Eileen hopped up on her counter, took a hit off her vape. She listened to the offer, not really interested, but said sheâd read over the contract to appease him. During that time, she got a message from her doorman, letting her know Max was on his way up.
She wasnât expecting him, but it wasnât strange that he was stopping by unannounced. As far as Eileen was concerned, her place was his place. Max could come over anytime. She opened the door, confused at the sight before her.
Max covered his face with his arm and his voice was strained as he spoke. Eileen looked at him with concern and gently lowered his arm. âOh, my godâŠâ His face was a mess, like something out of a Picasso sketchbook. âWhat the fuck happened, Max?â she asked as she pulled him inside. Though, Eileen had her theories and none of them were good.
Eileen shut the door and immediately went to the kitchen. âSit down,â she instructed, grabbing ice and another beer before she made her way back to her wounded friend.
He bit back a groan, not wanting to make things any worse. Based on how concerned both the Lyft driver and the doorman had been, he knew Eileen was going to be ten times worse. But then, heâd come here for her attention, come here to have someone tell him things would be okay. A doctor wouldnât do that, his damn mother wouldnât do that. Eileen was the only person heâd want to see, and as he expected, she slowly started to lower his arm, and he knew his face must look even worse than he thought based on her reaction.Â
She pulled him inside, and he winced at the sharp movement, hoping she didnât notice. She instructed him to sit, and Max didnât need to be told twice, collapsing on his back onto the couch. âIâm a dumb fuck, thatâs what happened,â he groaned, adjusting his position on the couch, eyeing the beer she was grabbing. Yeah, he wanted that.Â
He had no plans whatsoever to defend Aaron; the guy was a piece of shit for breaking up with Eileen in the first place. Yeah, maybe Max had been a complete dick to him, but the ass beating had been a little much. So, no, he wouldnât lie to Eileen and say he was mugged or something. Sheâd know exactly whoâd done this, but Max would also take responsibility for his own part in it. He wanted Eileen to be happy, didnât want to make this thing with Aaron worse. But she deserved the truth, didnât she?Â