"Just Friends"
Jen had been at Alice’s house all night, having a sleepover up in her attic. The fairy lights glowed softly, and they’d set up the projector on the back wall, watching some shitty chic flick they were both thoroughly enjoying. The pair were in pajamas, cozied up on Alice's futon bed, snacking on bits and pieces they had found in the kitchen downstairs. They had a couple of drinks and ended up just a little tipsy. Alice's gaze kept flicking from the movie to Jen’s profile, admiring her soft jawline, long eyelashes, and the way the light from the screen perfectly illuminated her features. As the movie progressed, their hands brushed slightly—a touch so light it could have been accidental—but neither pulled away. Jen felt her heart rate quicken at the brush of Alice's hand against hers. She tried to focus on the movie, but her mind kept wandering back to that touch, her skin still tingling from the contact.
“You okay love?” Jen said softly, brushing her hand up Alice’s arm gently, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind.
“Mhmm,” Alice murmured, resting her head on Jen’s shoulder. Their eyes met, a silent understanding between the two as they moved closer, now far more engrossed in each other than the movie. Alice could hardly think, every fiber of her being just wanted to kiss her friend in that moment.
And she did.
Her lips brushed gently against Jen's—a soft and tentative touch.
Just friends.
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When Rio got to the office the next day, a steaming cup of take-out coffee was sat waiting on her desk, and her usual plastic desk chair had been replaced by one of the plush ones Agatha was always spinning around on. The stacks of files and to-do lists had vanished from her desk and in their place sat a sleek laptop and a collection of fancy pencils.
This was new.
"Ah, Vidal, finally gracing my kingdom with your very much unwanted presence” Agatha deadpanned as she strutted over to her enormous desk, which was cluttered with swatches and magazines. Her eyes narrowed slightly, “Don’t blame me if that tepid coffee is disgusting darling. Teen isn't as good as you at the drinks run.”
“Well, that’s a warm welcome, Ms Ha- Agatha.”
Agatha pointed a mocking finger at her, smirking. “Ahh, first name huh Vidal? Someone’s found their voice. Has all that power gone to your head darling?”
Reclined at her desk, Agatha was wearing a black strappy dress and a purple blazer, with a string of pearls adorning her neck. Rio opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted when a sparkly violet pen flew across the room and hit her in the head.
"Ow-"
Agatha snapped her fingers. “Get goin' babe. We don’t have all day and I’m paying you by the hour now. Collection is due in less than a month, and it has got to be good. I assume you’ve looked at the contact I emailed you?”
Rio blinked. She’d been busy remodeling her kitchen into the perfect habitat for her pet tarantula, and so checking her emails had totally slipped her mind. The former was onviously the most important thing to focus on.
“Uh, yep” she said quickly, taking her paint-covered sketchbook out of her backpack, as well as a pink iPad she’d downloaded some dodgy art app onto the night before.
“And you agree to the terms?” Agatha says, quirking her eyebrows.
“Why are you saying it like that?” Rio asked, a slight smile creeping up her face. The woman's overly posh accent never failed to amuse her.
“Like what?”
“Terms” Rio mimicked. “Should I be worried about what the hell you’ve put in there?”
“I thought you’d read it” Agatha smirked .
“I have, I just- don't retain information well. It seemed fine when I read it. Cause I did... totally read it. Yeah...” She mumbled.
“If you want to do well in this business you’re going to need to learn how to lie, darling.”
Rio shook her head, setting up her desk with a couple of extra pencils she’d managed to scrounge from her bedroom floor, her book and a few snacks Jen had gotten for her from the cafe the day before. Sure, they were a little stale, but it added to the flavor. Maybe once she finally got her new paycheck through she’d stop having to rely on freebies.
“So, uh, where do we start? I mean, do you even have any staff anymore? Other than Billy” Rio asked, swiveling in her chair to face Agatha. She took a sip from the takeout cup on her desk, which was surprisingly adequate, even by her picky tastes.
“We start with concepts, at least a hundred. Make sure we’re covering all bases.” Agatha gestured to a corkboard that took up most of the back wall. All of the awards and photoshoots and newspaper clippings had been taken down, leaving it bare.
“Then we pin everything up, get a couple opinions, shred anything awful that you come up with, narrow it down to the collection, and start production. Simple” Agatha said animatedly, gesturing grandly to the empty board. It was hard to imagine it full of functioning designs by next month, and Rio couldn’t help the barrage of questions that followed
“How big is the team?” She said, already beginning to sketch out some concepts; no time was to be wasted seeing as the deadline was so soon.
“Team?” Agatha’s permanent smile faded as she gave Rio a confused look, “What team?”
“The design team. For the collection...?” Rio said slowly. Agatha looked at her as though she’d grown two heads.
“Pfffft.” She flicked her wrist dismissively. “We are the team darling, many hands make painfully disjointed work. Anyway, who needs glorified art students to hot glue your collection together when you have me?”
Rio stared at the woman in disbelief. It was just going to be the two of them? That would be impossible; they were already starting way later than usual.
Still, it would make the process a lot more personal, a little more intimate. Maybe it wouldn’t be so awful. Agatha turned back to her desk, burying her face in her phone.
“Right, yeah. That’ll be fine” Rio muttered. She wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince. “What’s the budget?”
“God Vidal, you’re boring my ass off and you’ve only been here ten minutes. So logistical and question-y. I didn’t pin you as the type to be so focused on useless details.” Agatha scoffed, tossing her hair. "Just make me something good and I'll tell you if it's possible."
“Well, I just need to have a sort of idea on how big I can go, especially considering the uhm, current issues," Rio said bluntly
Agatha flushed slightly, not looking up from her phone. The decline of the business was so secret, despite Agatha's complete ignorance of the fact.
“Restraint, Vidal. We’re doing better now I’ve gotten rid of all the dead-weight staff, but sales are still a little dry. Not that I’m struggling or anything. We’re fine. I just don’t want to ah, blow all my riches on a collection that might be awful. I’m really going out on a limb with you here hon. Don’t fuck it up.”
Rio nodded. She was hit with a wave of nerves. She’d mostly gotten over the social anxiety and stress that plagued her younger years, but the realization that she was finally working her dream job, albeit not quite in the circumstances she imagined, was enough to make her feel slightly sick.
“Vidal. You good darling? You scared?” Agatha said, smiling cruelly.
Rio jumped, jolted out of her spiral by the older woman’s voice. “Huh? I’m fine. I’m just thinking about all these ideas I’ve got”
"You're nervous," Agatha stated bluntly, arching an eyebrow. She crossed her legs and fixed Rio with an unwavering gaze. "Don't let it get to you, darling; worrying won’t take you far. Embrace the chaos. You know, I didn't climb to this point in my career by playing it safe or succumbing to anxiety.” She smiled, waving her hand dismissively.
"Now, let’s get started, shall we? Picture this as the foundation." She beckoned Rio to come closer. Arranged on her desk were swatches of deep emerald greens, luscious burgundies, and glimmering gold accents. “What do you think of this color palette? We’re going for a moody, luxurious vibe this season. Think enchanted forest meets opulent ballroom." Agatha announced dramatically, waving her hands.
Rio’s brown eyes scanned the palette, picturing the collection. She poured over the fabric. Her short nails tracing over the velvet as her mind was swarmed by new concepts.
“You don’t like it,” Agatha observed.
“What?”
“You’re making that unimpressed face you always make when I give you extra paperwork.”
“This is just my resting face!” Rio insisted, flapping her arms.
Agatha shook her head. “Your resting face is softer. You usually smile more.”
God, that probably sounded creepy. She scoffed. “Just tell me what you think.”
“It’s nice, but... y'know, it’s a bit ah, similar to all your other collections.”
Agatha groaned. "That’s called branding, darling. It’s what my customers expect from me. and what they like to buy,”
“Well, it’s clearly not working anymore, is it?” Rio said pointedly. “We can still work with your vibe, but we have to add something else too. Something different.” Rio paused, tapping her nails against Agatha’s desk. “I love the witchy vibe of this,” she said, gesturing to the green velvet swatch. “I could work with the deeper colors, but I don’t think the traditional, classy approach is going to cut it anymore. Let me sketch some ideas and add a couple more experimental elements.”
Agatha relented with a sigh. Of course, she wasn't oblivious to the fact her current work wasn't good enough; she'd read the reviews so many times she could probably recite each one word for word.
'Another stale, unimaginative release from House of Harkness....'
She couldn't let that happen again.
“I’ll do my thing, and you do yours. Nothing too crazy Vidal.”
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The silence lingered for the rest of the working day, only broken by Agatha’s long acrylics tapping against her phone screen, and the occasional scrape of Rio’s against her paper. She’d hardly finished her first design when Agatha abruptly flounced out of the room, declaring that she had a meeting of some sort, though Rio noted that there was nothing on the older woman’s calendar.
Left to her own devices, Rio turned the volume up on her phone, blasting Lady Gaga through her shitty headphones. Rio had gotten through a couple of concept sketches, but she spent most of her time in the fabric cupboards. She lost herself in a world of swatches, experimenting with different combinations and colors, hardly noticing that Agatha hadn't yet returned from her meeting.
It was half seven when her Lady Gaga discography run-through was finally interrupted by her ringtone. She scrambled out of the fabric closet and grabbed her phone, noticing how dark it had gotten outside.
~
“Hey Ri, how was your day?” Alice said brightly down the phone. Rio could hear the strumming of guitars in the background.
“Hey Alice,” Rio said, half-distracted by her ideas. “It’s going well, I think. I mean, Agatha sort of vanished but I’ve done quite a bit of brainstorming”
“What? Are you still there?”
Rio blinked, confused. “What? Yeah...?””
“Hon, it’s nearly eight, don’t you finish at five?”
“No it’s not-” Her gaze flicked to the little golden clock on Agatha’s desk. Shit.
“Oh, sorry Ali, time sort of got away with me" Rio laughed awkwardly. "I’ve got so many ideas and I was waiting for Agatha to get back so I could show her it all~” Rio rambled. Alice smiled to hear her friend back in a positive mood about work; she’d been subject to far too many hour-long Facetime rants about how annoying her employer was.
“Agatha? I see you’re on first-name basis now hmm?"
Rio scoffed, “Has Jen been filling your head with shit about us again? I swear that woman has been obsessed with shipping us.”
“Hey! It’s not my fault you’re totally in love” Another voice called from Alice’s end.
“Hey! Why is Jen with you? I see I’ve been replaced already” Rio laughed, “Hey Jenny. You kissed each other yet?”
“Oh girl-” Jen began brightly before Alice quickly cut her off.
“Rio, stop it, don’t be weird, we’re just hanging out. Jen was just passing by, dropping off some cakes left over from the cafe”
“Oh, totally,” Rio smirked
“Shut up!” Alice laughed, though she was internally mortified that Rio would embarrass her in front of Jen like that. She was still confused about her feelings towards the girl, and was desperate to impress her. Of course Rio would throw her under the bus like that. Again.
“I gotta go. Just get yourself out of work before midnight, kay hon?” Alice muttered hanging up.
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Jen had gone back over to Alice’s after her shift at Calderu’s, and the pair were sitting up in the attic, surrounded by beanbags and pillows, strumming the instruments scattered throughout the cozy space. She was still reeling from the night before- now they had kissed properly, Alice would surely acknowledge their relationship.
~
Alice had just hung up on Rio, tossing her phone across the cushions. Jen scoffed as she watched Alice bury her head in the pillows.
“Sorry about that…” Alice mumbled, silently thanking the dim fairy lights for hiding the blush rising to her cheeks.
“Alice?” Jen said, her voice a tad sharper than usual. She had put down the bass guitar she was strumming and propped herself up to see Alice properly.
“Hm?”
“Are you okay? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable; it’s just that I’m kind of getting mixed messages.”
“What do you mean?” Alice asked, her voice shaking slightly.
“I mean, you invited me over to hang out, and after these last few weeks, you’ve kind of given me the impression that we have something going on.”
“We do—” Alice began.
“Then why did you tell Rio that I was just 'passing by'? Dropping off fucking stale pastries? If you’re embarrassed to hang out with me, just say it. I mean, you clearly don’t want her finding out, and she’s meant to be your best friend.”
“What? No, I’m not embarrassed! It’s just that Rio will take the piss and I can’t deal with that right now~”
“Oh, so you don’t want her to think we’re dating?”
“We aren’t dating!” Alice retorted before she could stop herself.
“Oh, so was that kiss last night just a friendly thing? What about the other stuff we did?” Jen was standing now, her voice slightly raised. “Was that just for fun? God forbid anyone thinks you actually like me.”
“Jen—” Oh god. Alice despised conflict, especially with those she was close to. "I'm sorry-"
“No, Alice, seriously. Why are you so embarrassed? You told that guy at the bus stop we were sisters when he saw us holding hands the other day. Sisters! Have you seen us?!” Jen laughed incredulously, her anger building. She had been strung along enough times to recognize the signs.
“We can just be friends if you like Al, but you need to tell me how you really feel because I’m all over the place trying to figure out what the hell you want!”
“I don’t know what I want.” Alice croaked back weakly. Her throat already felt tight and her eyes stung with tears.
Jen sighed. “Just- just let me know when you do.” She said gently, turning towards the door.
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Alice listened to Jen’s footsteps as she left, an ache settling in her chest. The attic felt suffocatingly small, the air thick with unspoken feelings and unresolved tension. She sank back into her pile of pillows, staring up at the twinkling fairy lights. It was her fault. She’d always lied to Rio and her bandmates and her mother about what she and Jen were doing together. She couldn’t even walk down the street with Jen without feeling observed and judged by everyone who walked past. She’d totally brushed off their relationship in public, and even in private she insisted they were just friends.
Just friends.
For years she’d convinced herself that her fleeting crushes on girls were just that; little phases and whims that would quickly pass. And then she’d feel normal again. But with Jen, it felt different, it felt right. Each stupid joke, each laugh, each shared moment over the past few weeks just felt right. And then last night... the way their lips had brushed, the way Jen held her and touched her and loved her. Not that it would ever happen again, seeing as Alice had seemingly fucked up whatever they had going. She needed to fix this and fats; she just didn't know how.
She picked up her phone, typing out messages to Jen:
“We could just be friends...” delete.
“Last night was amazing...” delete.
“I think this was a mistake...” delete.
“I love you...” delete.
“I’ve never been with a woman before...” delete.
“I need more time to think...” delete.
Alice sighed, still tapping away at the keys, trying to articulate the confusion and love and self-loathing that plagued her.
“I’m sorry” was the message she’d finally settled on, turning off her phone.
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