#SELENE ORDER MORE ALCOHOL YOU SHOULD GET DRUNK AND CONFESS YOUR LOVE NOW !!!!!

[ortizselene]

Selene feels like she's suspended in air, watching Kieran, waiting for an answer, the memories of her and Kaia pressing at her mind incessantly, something warm and gauzy: threaded with that sweet, innocent camaraderie of girlhood.

'She’s doing really good.'

Her shoulders relax. Some pang strikes inside her, the beat of a hollow drum, thinking about how ... distant, it all felt. Kaia was doing really good. They'd cornered Kieran on the couch, shaped up his nail-bed and trimmed his cuticles while shrieking with laughter, they'd strolled Neiman Marcus together and Kaia was doing really good.

Why hadn't she ever texted Kaia. Texted either of them.

Why is Selene responsible for so much of her own misery.

'She’s an actress,'

'She was in this Off-Broadway show last year. She was an understudy, but she’s doing great. She’s in a lot of acting classes, and she auditions for stuff all the time.'

Nostalgia, longing, regret. It's a bitter cocktail Selene swallows, the ice water doing little to dilute this sense of fucking shame coating her mouth. Kaia had been in a show— and Selene had had no idea.

She'd lost so much of what had mattered in her life.

All she wants to do now is fold the younger girl into a hug.

"That's incredible." She smiles, despite the maelstrom inside her, but it's true. "Your sister always had star quality." A beat, in which Selene remembers the strength of Kaia's smile, that sunny aura that always used to radiate from her. "I'm sure I'll see her in something soon."

Selene would no doubt also run into her soon; as Kane's fiance. Nausea seeps back into her stomach like cold oil, and she no longer has much appetite for the bread.

There's alcohol soon, however, and Selene manages an earnest chuckle at Kieran's question, the inflection of his voice when he asks about Charlotte Tilbury.

Rizz. Another word that sounds foreign in his mouth, foreign to them both, makes her insides tense with laughter as they sat at this artfully arranged table, experts of the stock market and industry, puzzling over words that tasted like nothing in her mouth. Matty would probably know them.

'Charlotte Tillbury and rizz. I think this is elder abuse, you know. I could report you to HR.'

Selene takes a long drink from her cocktail. 'Hmphs', around the solid sphere of ice. She could taste the reposado, the tiny grains of salt clinging to her tongue.

She wonders if Kieran can see the spark of fondness that must be present in in her eyes.

"I think the ADEA only applies when you're older than forty." Another sip. God. It was fucking good. Who knew parental rebellion tasted so crisp; thank god Kieran had convinced her of this. "And it certainly holds less weight since we're the same age."

She smiles around the rim; thinks about how she might have reached forward to push at his shoulder, exclaim that they were both elderly, both woefully behind on the times.

If she hadn't failed her best friend; if she had texted him, even once, during that great absence between them, they wouldn't be here. Instead Selene would rest the point of her elbow on his shoulder. Lean down over him and shove her phone in her face, say 'Look at his. Look at what my cousin just sent me.'

Kieran would make a face. Demand that Selene never subject him to something so brainless again, and then she'd laugh and laugh and rest her cheekbone atop the crown of his head.

They used to touch each other like that every day. With breathtaking casualness.

What could she do now, as Kane's fiance? What could Selene do now that Kieran would even want; would he recoil from a hug? Would he find the press of her hand against his shoulder obnoxious, abrasive?

Maybe he thought it all childish now; the way she would practically hang off him in college. Maybe it was embarrassing now, to him.

What if he had a woman in his life?

What if Kieran had a woman in his life.

To prevent herself from gazing longingly at his shoulder, or perhaps having a panic attack while investigating that last train of thought, Selene props up her menu, makes a point to glance past the apertifs and onto the main courses; yellowfin tuna, with citrus fern, strip loin and sauce roquefort. No doubt fresh. No doubt a little heavy, when they had ... so much left to do at the office.

"God. I don't know. I might break work lunch etiquette and order pomme frites or something. Or maybe just a sandwich..."

When Selene asked if Kaia was doing good, there was a pang in Kieran’s chest that he couldn’t avoid. He felt his mouth dry out and suddenly struggled to swallow the bit of bread that he was eating. Kaia and Selene. The memories flooded back in an instant. A torrent of nostalgia pouring into his chest cavity, and there was nothing that Kieran could do to stop it.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Kieran missed his friend, Selene. He missed the ease of their conversation. Just as quickly as the emotion re-surfaced, Kieran buried it back down, the same way he had over the years. Anytime Kieran missed her, he ignored it, pretended that he didn’t – because it was easier than facing the reality that he’d lost her.

“She’s doing really good.”

Kieran was afraid of saying more. He was afraid that the words would fail him, and his throat would get all tight, and Selene would realize that he still missed that week in June when Kaia went to stay with him.

Another polite smile, even if Kieran was dying inside.

He took a sip of the cold water, looking for relief in the drink, the same way he had with the hot coffee.

“She’s an actress,” Kieran finally said. And Selene was just a co-worker. He could tell her about Kaia, pretending that the history between them was nonexistent. Selene was just a co-worker, he kept repeating. “She was in this Off-Broadway show last year. She was an understudy, but she’s doing great. She’s in a lot of acting classes, and she auditions for stuff all the time.”

And then – a pang of guilt, for all of the space between him and Kaia lately. Separated by an entire ocean, and Kieran hadn’t even texted her that he was back home.

Kieran could ignore all of this, though. He’d been an expert at it all of his life. Hiding the way his father made him feel, hiding the anxiety that came with the possibility of fucking up at work.

“Who is Charlotte Tillbury?”

There. That let Selene know everything that she needed to about his make up knowledge. The server arrived, placing their drinks at the table, letting them know that he’d return in just a few moments with their appetizers and to take their order.

“Rizz?”

Kieran reached for his margarita. He held the glass atop of the table, shifting it in the palm of his hand. Finally, he squeezed the lemon wedge onto his drink, and took a sip.

Alcohol. Alcohol always helped when Kieran was having a difficult time. It was refreshing and sweet.

“I’ve never heard anyone use that word in my life,” he admitted a little sheepishly. Was he getting old? Kieran. Almost thirty years old. When he was in college, Vine was still a thing. Six second videos. And now, this generation had … TikTok, and rizz?

"Charlotte Tillbury and rizz. I think this is elder abuse, you know. I could report you to HR."

Kieran was finding it difficult not to smile around Selene too much. He just had to keep it professional. A friendly lunch date. Um– a lunch meeting, between two colleagues.

"Have you decided what you want from the menu?"

Kieran hadn't. He hadn't even taken a look yet.