Yes, I'm that Jane Hayward. The one you haven't heard anything from since 2004. I'm trying to fix that. "Be nobody's darling; Be an outcast. Take the contradictions Of your life And wrap around You like a shawl, To parry stones To keep you warm." - Alice Walker
PICK ONE. QUESTION 1: WHO FAILED?
A) she loved you and you just ruined it.
B) you cannot divide by zero. there was never any way of saving it.
2. TOMORROW YOU WILL:
A) forget about it until you find yourself shaking in the cereal isle, unable to speak.
B) recognize her perfume somewhere on the wind and stand there as if you’ve been struck by lightning.
C) obsess. it feels like you’re drowning.
3. DO YOU TEXT HER?
A) yes, of course, she’ll never respond but she needs to know
B) no, leave her alone. but what if she’s waiting for you to come home?
C). you stare at your phone where saved messages you’ll never send are piling up like fall leaves, overlapping: when can i see you again. could we undo it. could we be better again.
4. WAS IT REAL?
A) god i hope not
B) if it was how am i supposed to get that back what if that was my only shot
5. WHY IS IT OVER?
A). i don’t know.
B). i don’t know.
Promoting this new album has proven to suck out more of my time than previously anticipated, but honestly, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Now, tell me, what’s the hot gossip I’ve missed while I’m too busy being successful to keep up with your lives?
Well, I hear Johnny Depp’s still out there being a piece of trash; it’s not too late to get some good sun; knowing Hollywood it’s only a matter of time before someone shows up with a DUI.
JANE: Seriously though Mase, is there like a dress code? Are jeans acceptable?
JANE: You've always known a lot more than me about just being a Hollywood person.
MASON: im just saying it'd make a statement and its not like you dont have a rocking body.
MASON: dont wear jeans its an interview not a rodeo. how would you want someone to dress if you were interviewing them
MASON: wear a skirt, nothing [mommish| DELETED] old lady and nothing sorority girl. and cute sandals or ankle boots
MASON: and a green shirt. something cute and casual but not casual casual
MASON: really tho teen vogue's all about the feminist hard hitting shit lately so dress however youre comfy (and cute) and tell them that and theyll eat it up
JANE: What do you wear for a Teen Vogue interview???
QUINN: Something on trend but that doesn't show too much skin. What is the interview about?
JANE: Trying to drum up press for the movie. It's going to be some general personal prying, I guess, to make me seem quirky and #relatable for the younger audiences.
Hollywood quiet? With this kinda heat? I refuse to believe that in the midst of the summer ending and pilot season ending that there is no drama or tea. Do I gotta self-leak my stuff or is everyone finally under the guise that they can live they in private? Since when does this place not make me want to eat my own words?
What: A conversation that neither of them will easily forget.
“You didn’t do the dishes,” Jane says, the second Mason walks through the door, because fuck it, now is as good a time as any, right? She’s been wanting to scream about something all day--wants to scream all the time, these days. Truth be told she hardly recognises herself anymore.
Mason reacts like she knew he would, drops his bag to the floor at his feet, tilts his head to the ceiling as if he’s calling on God himself to lodge his complaint. “J, I just got in.”
“You could’ve done them before you left,” she says. “When I get home from work in the evenings, the last thing I want to do is clean the house too, and it hurts to think that while you’ve been doing God knows what all day you couldn’t think of me for the twenty minutes it would’ve taken you to take care of the dishes.”
“I do think of you.”
“You don't act like it.”
Another few seconds of gesturing. Predictably. Both hands out towards her, he opens his mouth, he stops, raises one hand to his forehead.
“Do we have to do this right now?” he asks.
“Yes, we do, and I don’t give a fuck if it’s not convenient to you, because it’s not convenient for me biting my tongue until it bleeds.”
Mason’s eyes go a little wild sometimes, when they fight. She needs to see it, some days, needs to know that she's not the only one with a voice inside her head screaming, always screaming.
“We keep having this fight, J,” he says, and he's finally raising his voice a little, “What part of ‘I'll get to it’ don't you under--”
“What part of ‘I'll get to it’ helps me when I need a glass to drink out of?”
Something inside her rises up, something blind, wild, destructive. She pictures herself picking up a plate and hurling it across the room at Mason’s face, and that's when she understands.
There's nothing left to fight for here.
The best thing she can do, for either of them, is to let go.
She stops talking and looks him in the eyes for a good, long while--she needs him to know that she means this.
“Mason, I want a divorce.”
Mason falls off, mid sentence. The sound he makes is framed as a laugh, but Jane is pretty sure it’s just the noise of all the air leaving his lungs at once.
“J, I’ll do the fucking dishes.” He draws in a breath, tries again for the laugh. It comes out much the same. “Hell, I'll buy us a dishwasher.”
“And then we'll fight about who loads it.”
“We can--I dunno, we can write up a chore chart, there's gotta be something--”
“Mason it's not about the--” All the words rise up into her mouth at once and choke each other out. She tries again. “The point is there's always going to be something. The point is I'm losing my fucking mind in this town, and so are you, and I can't just keep watching it happen.”
He's still reeling, letting his mouth gape open and shut like a fish while he reaches around for something to say that'll fix this.
He still doesn’t get it.
“There are counsellors we could go to,” he says, “We could move. There's nothing stopping us--”
“We already did the grief counselling, it didn't help. This is our lives, this is what it's going to be, I can't move on when I have to look at your face every day and think about what we almost…” She takes a breath, stills her trembling hands. She doesn't look at him.
“I need to leave, Mason. I need to get away from all this.” She sinks back down into a chair--she can hardly make her voice leave her throat. “I need to forget.”
Mason doesn't answer. He doesn't move, or breathe, or look at her. Jane sits there, across from him, and for a second she wants to take it back, would do anything to take that look off his face, but she can't. She takes a breath, digs her nails into her palms, and thinks about having to look herself in the eye, every day for the rest of her life.
She can't figure out which way will hurt more.
“I'm going up to bed,” she murmurs, and then she gets up and goes upstairs and leaves him there.
JANE: I didn't say you weren't. I just mean I was there when you had to pick up the pieces of yourself afterwards and I don't want to watch you go through that again.
JANE: If you were murdered I wouldn't be saying anything to you.
KURT: I don't know. If it goes wrong, I only have myself to blame. Nothing's even happening, anyway. But I can't pretend like I'm getting over him, you know?
KURT: Fair point.
JANE: It's not like I'm anywhere near over Mas [unsent]
JANE: You fake it till you make it, Kurt, that's how this works.
JANE: I mean. Whatever you think is best, I'm not going to second guess you. But I wouldn't be a good friend if I didn't warn you to be careful.
[...]
JANE: So can we talk about Brody knocking Mason off the top spot for Hollywood's Mopiest White Man?
JANE: Because mopier than Mason, that's saying something.
JANE: I didn't say you weren't. I just mean I was there when you had to pick up the pieces of yourself afterwards and I don't want to watch you go through that again.
JANE: If you were murdered I wouldn't be saying anything to you.
KURT: I don't know. If it goes wrong, I only have myself to blame. Nothing's even happening, anyway. But I can't pretend like I'm getting over him, you know?
KURT: Fair point.
JANE: It's not like I'm anywhere near over Mas [unsent]
JANE: You fake it till you make it, Kurt, that's how this works.
JANE: I mean. Whatever you think is best, I'm not going to second guess you. But I wouldn't be a good friend if I didn't warn you to be careful.
JANE: Madison! I'm glad you texted me; I changed phones a little while back and lost your number.
JANE: Saving your contact now. You know my photo for you is still the one at the water park from when we were 15. Maybe we could update it soon.
JANE: Thank you! Maybe we could catch up? If you have time, that is, we don't HAVE to do anything. Up to you.
MADISON: I'll admit I shook a couple of old friends down for your contact information. I just got excited when the news broke, you know?
MADISON: I'm kind of horrified you still have that picture. That should've been destroyed, like. As soon as it was taken. I'm going to need a new contact photo for you.
MADISON: Oh, well. No, we can totally catch up sometime. Maybe we can grab coffee? Things aren't too crazy yet.
JANE: Hey, you know you were totally feeling yourself when we took that pic at the water park.
JANE: The sooner the better for the coffee, then. God knows "not too crazy yet" is a rare commodity in Hollywood--I love it, but not so great when you're trying to catch up with old friends.
JANE: No point in dwelling on what might have been, now is there?
JANE: Is that, I mean, should you really
JANE: Kurt the last time you two were together he hurt you really badly.
KURT: You're only saying that because I wasn't murdered.
KURT: Technically I was the one who broke us up.
JANE: I didn't say you weren't. I just mean I was there when you had to pick up the pieces of yourself afterwards and I don't want to watch you go through that again.
JANE: If you were murdered I wouldn't be saying anything to you.
So, I guess this week filming for the show begins. Please wish me luck - cross your fingers - or send good vibes, since I don’t know if this will be a train wreck, or something sincerely special.