Wannabe Breakfast Club

“Tell me.”

“No.”

“I’m figuring out as we speak. You might as well fill in the gaps.”

She glared at him. “Then figure it out.”

“No. Tell me. I would only get half the story and I don’t half ass anything, so tell me or I’ll coerce you.”

“What, you gonna torture me?” she challenged.

“No, don’t need to. Just going to bother you.”

She stared at the wall resolutely, and finally he sighed.

“Look, we’re in here. We have no other alternative to listening to each other talk other than watching the walls start to bleed. Talk, for fuck’s sake.”

She caught his eye, and for the first time didn’t look away. He stared back, eyes dark and wide and almost honest. She looked at her crunched-up legs, focusing on a scuffed sneaker.

“I was climbing the ladder, the career ladder. I was determined. Slept little, ate little, worked all the time, picked up extra shifts. I hadn’t found the line yet…”

“big surprise,” he muttered, forgetting they were in a six foot space. He immediately regretted it as her head whipped up, gaze hardened.

“You know what? Forget it.”

“Okay, okay, I’m –”

“No, you’re not,” she snapped. “You don’t care. Fuck this. What is this supposed to be? We get caught in the elevator, it breaks, and now we’re in some fucked-up version of The Breakfast Club with only Brian and the Basketcase because of – because of – budget cuts!”

He started laughing, which only pissed her off more.

“Fuck you.”

“Yes, fuck me, that’s funny!” he kept laughing. “Brian? Basketcase? Hey, wait…I’m the nerdy brain? Gee, thanks.”

“Get real. I’m the nerdy brain. You’re the basketcase.”

“Whaaat? I don’t –”

“Oh, I’m sorry, you’re not a compulsive liar with an obviously messed up parental relationship and a broody, outcast, caustic disposition? Please.”
“Ouch. I’m not a compulsive liar. I plan.”

“Oh, that’s so much better.”

“Wait, so what, you’re the nerd? The quiet one? The insecure one with great, magnificent insight and so much pressure from your parents?”

“Yep. I mean, everyone wants to be Bender or Claire, and I saw a bit of myself in all of the characters, even the janitor or the dick principal, but…I always was Brian, I know. Just that one line…” She paused, biting her lip.

He thought. “…‘I don’t know pressure. Fuck you’?”

Genuine surprise. “No…‘I see myself in the mirror, you know, and I…I don’t like what I see.’”

“Don’t be,” he said, shaking his head. She stared at him, head cocked to the side, and visibly thought about his words, wondering if she was foolish for misunderstanding…

“Don’t be what?”

“Don’t be…unhappy with yourself. You’ve got a lot less to be unhappy about than most people, than I do. You’re…you’re one of the best people I’ve met.”

“…Really?”

“Yeah. So, when you look in the mirror…like what you see. You’re one of the few people that should.”

(c) CJB June 7 2012

This is mine. Don't steal.