future/au jane/bryce (depending on what happens)
Jane downed the rest of the glass, and called up a taxi. The world was swimming slightly, but she put her key in the door (hashtag winning, she thought, he hasn't changed the locks since he told me he needs time to think) and came in. She stumbled slightly over the threshold and frowned, wondering what her appearance here was meant to denote. Was she trying to make up with him? Seduce him? Who knew? Maybe less wine would've been a better decision.
"Bryce!!?" she called out.
He appeared from the kitchen, puzzled, "You're wasted." The words weren't judgmental in nature, but he wasn't being nice. He wasn't entertained. It was just a statement of facts. A pretty accurate one, to be honest.
"Yip," she replied, and stumbled again.
He stepped forward and steadied her, face softening slightly, "So your idea of us taking time apart is showing up to my house drunk?"
A sigh. "I wasn't planning to get drunk. It just happened."
"I needed to find out why." Jane announced, "And before you start saying something, I want you to know that I don't give a shit about the credit. Whatever. Take it all. I don't even need to appear in the thanks. I just want to be friends with you, okay? That's all I fucking want. I want your friendship, Bryce, I don't think that's-"
"I don't want to be your friend," he muttered, taking a step away from her. "I'll make you some coffee and then we can-"
"You don't want to be my friend!?" she yells, suddenly irate, "That's what happens after a goddamn decade? You decide that we're not friends anymore?"
This time, it's Bryce who sighs, "We were never really friends. You just... Jane, you get everyone to do whatever the fuck you want them to. And you don't care about anyone else. And you don't think about what I'll feel when you tell Annie Bahl about your new awesome project without mentioning my name, or how I'll feel when my date fucks my brother!"
"I don't see what... Wait. No. I was never your date, Bryce. We were friends. And I went to one family lunch, and-"
"We were never friends, Jane." A pause. "Maybe let's skip coffee. I'll call you a cab."
"So what do you want me to do?" Jane demands, as he heads towards the landline, "What do you want me to say? Sorry that I haven't been nice enough in the past? Sorry for some hypothetical incident over ten years ago? Goddamnit, Bryce!"
"I want to know what you want!" Jane yells out, anger mixing with drunkedness into a heady mixture.
"It doesn't matter what I want."
Suddenly, Jane laughs. "And that's why you'll never get it. Because all you do is want, Bryce. But you never do anything. You know why I fucked Alfred and not you? Because he just did it. He grabbed me and pulled me into a room and fucked me. And you've just spent your life fucking wanting and I can't deal with that anymore, Bryce. Whatever. Want away. Fucking pine away. I don't give a shit."
