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Chapter Six


  "This is not fair. Please tell me, it's not true. I can't go on. You're killing me." David said it all in a monotone robotic voice.

  Cassandra looked at him with fury in her eyes. "Are you finished?" she demanded.

 "I am," he said with a smirk.
   
Kurt sighed. "David. Please. I know this sucks, but we need to do it. Please."
  
 None of this was Kurt's fault. David knew that. There was no need to make him suffer. He repeated the lines, this time with melodrama. He overacted, and burst into sobs at the end. He ad-libbed a little. "No! No! No!"
   
He looked up at Kurt who was trying very hard not to laugh. "David!"
   
So, they did it again.
   
And this time David did it right.
   
Later, he sat alone in the little lunch room eating catered falafel sandwiches.  Not bad tasting, but David had tasted better.

 No one else was there, but Lucy, the shy sweet make-up girl who never bothered him or anybody. She just quietly read her book.  David was grateful for that.

   
And then hell broke into the room. Not just Cassandra. That would be bad enough. But Cassandra was with his mother....visiting from New Jersey.
   
David's skin crawled as they requested that Lucy leave the room. "Can we have some privacy please," Cassandra said in her yes-I-am-a-diva-but-I-am-a-nice-Diva tone.  She motioned for the girl to exit. David would have protested and stood up Lucy if he hadn't been in such shock.

   
"I brought you lunch," his mom said. She handed him a sack lunch as if he were still in fifth grade. He peered inside. Some kind of sandwich.
   
"I actually just ate," he said, trying hard to sound apologetic and grateful at the same time. His thrice-nominated acting ability failed him at the moment.
   
"That Terrorist food?" his mom said with distaste.
   
"If you're referring to Middle Eastern," he said. "Yes. I had a falafel sandwich."
   
His mother clucked in disapproval.
   
"They're very good. You should try one sometime."
   
"No thank you," His mother said.
   
David ate the last bite of his falafel sandwich.
   
"You could at least try the sandwich I made for you. Billy loved when I made him lunches. Remember how he used to love peanut butter with marshmallow."
  
 "Yes," David said. Although it was actually he who used to love them. Billy actually always hated peanut butter. But it might be a slap in the face to his mother to remind her of that.
   
"Billy thought I was a wonderful cook."
  
 "You are a wonderful cook, Shelly" Cassandra cooed.

    "Oh you're so sweet!" The two women hugged. And David thought this was another reason why their relationship was doomed to failure. Women were supposed to hate their potential future mother-in-laws, not bond with them. They were definitely not supposed to be allies against him.
   
"I'm going to go for a walk," David left quickly before they could stop him. He did take the sandwich, but dumped it in a garbage a few blocks down. He ended up at Union Square Park and sat down on a bench.  He watched the crowd browsing the famous greenmarket.
   
He pinched himself. An impulse.
   
Yes, he definitely was real...well, not that he had any doubts or anything.
 
Of course, he was real.

 He was simply becoming a little more imaginative.
   
Not crazy.
 







  Rachel considered getting dressed. She considered putting on make-up and driving somewhere. She considered doing something amazing, or at least somewhat social.
  
But instead she just lay down on her bed.

She lifted her pillow, took out the Premiere Magazine cover, and stared at David.
   
And then she started to cry.

Why?

Because she knew she was a complete loser.   That's why.
   
 

 



























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