#heath huzzar

[antique-teacups]

Look beyond the lens

     There is a learning curve that comes with moving to LA. Between the culture shock and constant sun, you were still working on adjusting.  There were places that offered you an oasis among the hustle and bustle. The tiny coffee shop on your block, Sip and Stir, could transport you back home with one cup. It also served as your pseudo home office. Working at Unnamed Press was a dream come true. A passion for English coming to full flourish in your year there. There was hope for many more years, teetering on the cusp of a promotion.

     There were other things in LA that offered solace and happiness. You first met Matt, bumping into one another at Sip and Stir.  You had sat and chatted about all thing literary, Matt quite the bookworm himself. It was refreshing and light so when he asked to have your number there was no hesitation. The two of you talked for a while before he introduced to the entire group, who he referred to as the “vlog squad”. They embraced you with open arms, each gregarious and extroverted. The dynamic of the group surprised you. All supportive of each’s personal endeavors, willing to help out at every turn if they could, yet they were an united front.

     When you first started hanging out with everyone, there was a barrage of questions about your job. All of these people had backgrounds in some domestic job, instead turning to social media to make a living. Your face slowly became more of staple in their vlogs and pictures, especially those of Matt’s. At first, it wasn’t that concerning. You flew under the radar for the most part at work.

     Matt and you were growing closer, until it did turn into something. All your spare time was spent with him and the squad. They filled that hole that remained from leaving home. Most of the time, you sat out of certain bits. Although you knew most of it was harmless, you couldn’t risk losing your job. Zane was the first one to ask you if you considered every joining them on the wave that is living on social media.

     “Honestly, no. I mean, you all have the personality for it, but I don’t think I could survive those shark infested waters. It’s hard enough to get my writing rejected, but that’s survivable. But to have my entire life out there and letting people make their own judgement on that, I don’t think I could survive that. Plus, you’ve seen just how active I am on social media, do you think I could do it?”

     “I guess I see it. You would have to post more than once every couple of months. I think you’re one of the few remaining twenty year old’s who doesn’t share everything on Instagram.” Zane joked, turning to Matt with raised brows. “Someone else also needs to get social media more popping.”

     Matt retorts, “I survive off you, David, and y/n. I do not need to share everything.” Crossing his arms, he turns to share a knowing look with me.

      “Zane, I am happy that you find purpose in sharing from screen to screen, but that’s why I write. I guess I worry sometimes that places won’t work with me or even think about publishing me if they see me plastered on the internet. And that would crush me.” You explain.

      “Share some of your wisdom with me before you let me get a stupid tattoo and drunk on David’s vlog next time.” Zane kids.

      As the weeks turned to months, things at work got crazier. More responsibilities and less time off, often times working right through the weekend. You mulled Zane’s question around in your mind. Never once did you fully consider it but you had to admit you thought about it. The promotion was right around the corner. You hoped they saw just how hard you were working for, just how dedicated you were. The director told you take the weekend off, deliberation was Monday, so that must mean something good, right?

      You were floating on clouds, even surrounded by plastered squad members at David’s that night. Matt and you were off to the side, chatting and sharing a drink. You weren’t intent on getting drunk, not even buzzed. The two of you content to remain in just one another’s company.

              It all happened in quick succession, over in a blink of an eye. Neither you or Matt could quite figure out what happened. Punches were thrown, cuss words spat, and light fixture broken. Heath stomps to the front door, swaying and slurring. Zane sat on the couch, split eyebrow and screaming. The situation needed to be diffused quickly.

              Rushing over, you grab Heath by the arm, hoping to stop him from leaving.

              “God, y/n would you stop acting like the mother? Get off me.” Heath spits out, lightly shoving you away.

              “Heath, you’re way to drunk to drive, let alone leave by yourself. Come sit with Matt and I.” Attempting to coax him back inside.

              “Why would I want to sit with you? You act like your better than us all because “you write for living”.” He says with air quotes. That one stung.

              “Matt, a little help here.” Turning to catch Matt’s eye, you practically beg. Then you see David with his camera trained on you two. “Can you not do that right now?” That was the first and the last time you every asked him to not record something.

              “Oh come on y/n, you know he’s saying that just because he’s drunk.” David replied, rolling his eyes, but not turning the camera away.

              “Matt, please. David, I won’t ask again.” I cautioned. Heath pushes fully away from me, making a break for the door. Anger boils in you for the whole situation. David not respecting your one request, Heath’s drunken confession, the unfairness of dealing with this situation.

              “Heath, I swear to God, you had better get in here and sit down. I am not fucking around anymore. This is no longer funny. You have ruined tonight. You two Zane. Now, Dave, put down the camera and help me.” You sneer.

              Turning around, the entire squad is silent, watching you with surprise. Heath slinks past you, plopping himself down on the couch. Scotty walks over to Zane and Heath, handling the situation on his own. Both anger and hurt were billowing inside you. If Heath made that admission drunk, did he believe that sober? Suddenly you felt like an outcast.

              Turning, you look at David standing there, camera still rolling. “None of this can go in the vlog.” You put simply.

              “I don’t think you get to make that call.” He rebuked.

              Pinching the bridge of your nose, you take a deep breath. “David, this is my first request. I let all that other stuff slip through the cracks. This though,” you wave your hands around,” is a reflection of my personal life. My bosses can see this. This might not seem like a big deal to you. A drunken blow up, but it paints me as irresponsible and unprofessional. So, no this won’t go in the vlog.” You threatened, assuming the argument had been dropped.

              You knew it wasn’t when you got called into the director’s office at work Monday. The director sat with disdain in her eyes and an unsettling cold demeanor.

              “Here at Unnamed Press, we strive for professionalism and integrity. We push all of our employees to explore their creative and continue to strive for their personal goals and endeavors. However, you have chosen some outside of our preferred set.” She declared.

              Your heart was in your throat, blood draining from your face, disbelief settling in your bones. He wouldn’t, he couldn’t. But he did. She turned her laptop to face you and plastered on the screen was David’s vlog, paused but with me in full frame.

              “I can explain, really. You have to understand that it was a misunderstanding. I’ll have him take this down right away. I am devoted to this job, please.” You pleaded, knowing right where she was going with this.

              “I am sorry, but it has already caused quite the influx of people bashing the business. I let a lot of the other stuff go because it was mostly harmless, but this, is focused on you. I really wish things were different.” She relented.

              “I’ll pull back, I’ll remove my face from everything associated with them. Please, I need this job. I love this job.”

              “We can’t have people who are associated with something like this representing us. The backlash is simply to great. You of all people should know this kind of attention isn’t going to die down anytime soon.”

              The tears were pricking your eyes. You knew there was no arguing it. “I am sorry.” You whispered before slipping out. Walking right past your desk and out the door, anger was overtaking the hurt. Striding to your car, climbing in, and closing the door. You screamed, hands bashing against the steering wheel. One request, that wasn’t too much to ask. You contemplated calling Matt, but he was already at David’s. You would set this straight.

              A million things crossed your mind on the way to David’s. Some malicious, some trying to see his side, some an acceptance of what happened. Mostly, you felt betrayed. You lost your dream job, a dent in your career. A blow that would last forever. You couldn’t talk your way out of it. You were a joke to the director now, all because you were in some video on the internet. You know that they say the thing so the internet will haunt you forever.

              Pulling in his drive, there were a couple of cars here. Matt’s, Heath’s, and Zane’s. I guess they all played a bit of roll.

              You walked to the front door, not even bothering to knock. Walking past the entry way, they all sat on the couches. Matt was the first one to notice you. “Y/n, what are you doing here? Short day at work?” he asked, smiling. David looked up at the mention of your name, guilt already on his face.

              “Why don’t we ask David? Wait, that does nothing. He’ll ignore it anyway.” You spit.

              “Y/n, let me explain.” He pleaded.

              “No David, let me explain. I lost my job because of you. Did you ever think of that consequence? I asked you not to include it for that exact reason. But you did it anyway.” You hissed.

              “It was a 30 second clip, I cut out the worst parts.” David insisted.

              “Are you even listening to yourself? Dave, I asked, I begged you. I lost my job. Did you even hear that? It doesn’t matter that you cut out the worst parts! They still deemed me unprofessional. The director even brought up all the other shit you’ve posted. Not all of us live on social media David. At least not like you do.” You huffed, chest heaving.

              “You can get another job. It’s not like you can’t go write anywhere. Plus, you could have removed yourself from the situation.” David cheeked, rolling his eyes.

              “Could you for once look beyond that fucking camera lens. You cost me my job. You put a stain on my career. I tried to explain to her it was a joke, but I was the joke. She had mind made up before I even walked in there. Do you not understand that? You aren’t even listening to me.” Heath and Zane both stood, clearly ready to try and make amends. “You two had better sit back down. You are just at fault. I think I am so high and mighty, right? You ruined that for me. You took that away in some drunken night that I didn’t even want to be a part of. Dave, I wish I never met you. It was one request. And now I’ve lost everything. Why are you acting like this isn’t a big deal? Does this mean nothing to you?”

              “Honestly, no. I have to make a living just like you. I am sorry that you lost your job, sure. But that wasn’t my fault. Excuse yourself. You knew what you were getting into.”

              The tears rain down your cheeks at his admission. “OK. This is me removing myself from the situation.” You mumbled before walking out his house.

[dxlanwrites]

Zane and Heath vs. Ethan and Grayson