[-28-]

                                    

                                          

Julian finished the interview at Gramercy Diner—he even apologized to Neil Strauss for his behavior the night before, blaming it all on the alcohol. He didn't keep his word to Joy, but he at least waited until arriving at the diner to start drinking. 
                          
Joy paced, frantically cleaning the apartment as she waited for Julian to return. She called Ryan to let him know what had happened last night and made sure he made it to Gramercy's—on time and relatively sober; just hungover. 
                          
When she heard the door open, she stopped wiping the counters. She raced toward the foyer to greet Julian, stopping dead in her tracks—her eyes widening at the sight of him. Julian stood before her sopping wet; he had walked home in the pouring rain. 
                          
"Why- why didn't you take a cab?" Joy stared at him in disbelief, watching as he raised his arms, assessing his drenched clothes. 
                          
"What are you still doing here?" 
                          
"I thought you wanted me here." 
                          
"What made you think that?" Julian mumbled, making his way around her toward the kitchen. Her eyes narrowed questioningly as she followed him to the fridge, watching him get a beer. 
                          
"Do you want me to leave?" Joy asked, keeping her eyes on Julian's back, waiting for him to face her. 
                          
When he turned around, her heart sank. He seemed indifferent—irritated by the fact she even had to ask him that; it should've been obvious. "I don't care what you do."
                          
Joy nodded, trying her best to seem unfazed by his coldness. She made her way to the living room, throwing her purse strap over her shoulder. She marched toward the door, only to stop when hearing the sound of something crash in the kitchen. She rolled her eyes—crossed her eyes at his childish behavior. 
                          
You're better than this, Joy... you're enabling this—you're feeding into his stupidity. 
                          
Joy peeked her head in through the archway of the kitchen, watching Julian chug his beer—still standing there in his sopping wet clothes. 
                          
"Something you wanna say to me, hm?" Joy cleared her throat, realizing how small she sounded. "Jules, if you've got something on your mind, feel free to say it. Don't hold it in and let it fester. Just get it out now so it doesn't turn into resentment." 
                          
Julian rubbed his face fiercely, sleeking his soaking wet tresses back out of his eyes. "I don't wanna talk to you. I- I can't even look at you right now. I'm just mad... but I'll get over it."
                          
Her brows furrowed, putting her weight to one foot, jutting out her hip. "Mad?... like, mad at me?" 
                          
"No, Joy... the dog. I'm mad at the dog. The cat... yes, I'm fucking mad at you." He shook his head, setting his beer on the counter before unbuttoning his drenched shirt. "I'm mad at the situation."
                          
"Why; what did I do?" 
                          
"Forget it. Jus- just fucking leave, alright. I already told you, I'll get over it. But I can't get over it with you standing there like that." 
                          
"Like what?" Joy couldn't help but to laugh; her words coming out in a scoff. 
                          
"Like... that! Fucking perfect and shit. Get out." Julian spoke with a chuckle he was trying to keep at bay. Joy had always had this power over him—to make him calm down—to make him listen. 
                          
"You know what, I don't think you  want me to leave. I think you're just being a drama-king." Joy narrowed her eyes at him playfully, knowing that if she teased him just a little longer, she could get to the source of his anger. 
                          
"A drama-king... God, you're such a bitch. Really, I mean that." 
                          
"Well, you're an asshole." Joy shrugged. 
                          
"Asshole and stop are the only words you know. You should really expand your vocabulary." Julian winked, taking another drink of beer. He had only managed to unbutton his shirt by four buttons. 
                          
"Don't forget drama-king." Joy mumbled. 
                          
"Please... please, go. I'm- I'm really not in the mood to do this with you right now." 
                          
Joy loosened her grip on the strap of her purse, taking a step toward him. "What exactly are you in the mood to do with me right now?" She bit her bottom lip seductively, trying to make him laugh. 
                          
"Joy... I'm begging you... please leave." 
                          
Her face fell—Julian was more than angry, he was hurt. 
                          
But what did I do? 
                          
"This is not how you treat someone you love, I hope you know that. But, I'm sure it was a lie, right? You don't love me... you just said that so I'd stay- you didn't wanna be alone; I get it." Joy turned, making her way out of the apartment. She couldn't do it anymore—if she stood there long enough, she was bound to say something she couldn't take back. 
                          
Joy stormed ahead—she wasn't about to turn back now. She calmly closed the door behind her, making it a point not to slam it. She didn't want Julian to know that he had hurt her—he didn't deserve to know just how badly he had gotten to her.