When my alarm clock went off early in the morning, I was still wide awake. I didn't know how I should react if I saw him today, and the thought of just seeing him once more made me anxious in a special sort of way, if that even makes any sense. I lingered in the kitchen for half an hour, struggling to decide whether or not to call in sick and just skip work for two days, until I mustered the courage to confront him.
"Stop it, River. You have never been a coward, and you were usually the one who intimidated others. So what if he saw you crying? It's not the end of the world. You are a human, not a machine. People cry when they are sad. It's perfectly normal. Grow up, for God's sake, and quit being such a drama queen."
With my newfound confidence, I threw on a baggy sweatshirt and mom jeans before tying my hair into a sloppy bun. My pulse rate was still irregular, and I had to double-check myself before locking the door. I detested myself for acting so bizarrely, but I couldn't control it. I will be thirty in three years, yet I am still acting like a horrible teenager. I don't recall feeling similar sentiments as a teen or with my past lovers. So, what makes this stranger different?
"Get a grip, stupid."
I was trudging along the uneven road, babbling to myself, when I suddenly remembered something. I pulled out my mobile and opened the calendar, and I literally shrieked in delight. If there had been a couch, I would have plopped down and fanned myself. It was that time of the month again. That's why I was behaving so absurdly. I knew I wasn't in love one fine evening or that Cupid had shot an arrow at me. I was never friends with PMS, and this time it was no different.
"Did you win a lottery?"
Carla's voice made me raise my head and turn to face her, a goofy grin still on my lips. It explains why I overreacted. Although it was still humiliating to think that I broke down crying right in front of him and allowed him to embrace me, I can now be certain that there was nothing wrong with me like I feared. It was all because of my hormones.
Even if he spreads stories about me being a crying baby, I will just shrug it off. After all, this isn't the first time rumors about me have circulated. And if he begins getting cozy around me because of our little interaction, I will just sack him. For God's sake, I had the power here.
"Better. I just discovered a solution to my dilemma."
Carla shook her head in mirth as I responded, still beaming.
"You truly perplex me, River. You behave like a bitch at times and a crazy maniac at others."
I softly smacked Carla in the arms, and we both proceeded to walk to the location.
Despite my pep talks, I found myself looking forward to meeting him. And, yet again, I am going to blame it on my estrogen. Once I arrived on set, I surveyed everyone, and none of them seemed to be looking at me unusually. If someone's gaze stayed on me for longer than necessary, I leapt to unwanted conclusions.
"This is insane."
I muttered under my breath as I started scribbling on the printed script. I couldn't focus no matter how hard I tried, and I was having trouble coordinating. Carla assumed I was being inattentive because of Brave's death, and she told Kim so when he questioned why I was acting strangely. I didn't correct her, since she wasn't completely incorrect. I was still in grief over his death, and when I informed Lorraine about it, she broke into tears. She promised to return soon, saying she just needed some time until Matt's cast was removed. I told her to take her time and that I could manage everything on my own.
"Ma'am, you need to sign this."
When I heard that voice, the pen in my hand fell to the ground, and I almost sprained my neck as I quickly raised my head to look at him.
"Huh?"
My words came out as a squeak, and for a split second, I forgot I was surrounded by people. He extended the clipboard and glanced at me with semi-wide eyes, taken aback by my reaction.
"These are the items required for the upcoming week. I need your signature."
Right. He was on the production crew, and I have to sign this bloody thing. So, all this while I was interacting with him, he never once mentioned the hospital incident?
"Ma'am."
I was still staring at him, and I blinked a few times like a fool before nodding and almost snatching the notepad from his grasp. I didn't even check the items properly, as I used the time to collect my thoughts.
He had known me all along but had never approached me. He must have taken me for an ungrateful bitch. But wouldn't it be awkward if I confessed that I didn't remember him? And why does he act as though nothing happened yesterday? Why am I the only one who was anxious? Maybe I am making up scenarios. I am simply overthinking it. Again!
I expected him to at least ask if I was okay as I signed the page and handed him the paperwork back. But all he said was "thank you." which left me dumbfounded. He behaved as if he had never met me. What in the world?!
........
I was angry.
I was irritated.
I was relieved.
Above all, my ego was bruised.
I continued stealing glances at him throughout the day, and my gaze followed him whenever he was in my vicinity. He didn't give me a second look, though. Even when I went to the production team to ask a pointless inquiry, he showed no interest. Was I invisible? How is it possible for him to act so nonchalantly?
Based on the information I received from my un-suspicious sources, his name was Eugene, and he worked as the production designer's assistant. He was half Thai and partly British, which explains his proficiency in the native language. He was what one would call approachable, helping everyone while cracking jokes. The female population often ogled at him in awe and reached out to him with even the smallest doubts. He was undoubtedly popular with the ladies.
I realized at the end of the day that he was helpful to everyone, not just me. I should have been relieved, but instead I found myself sulking at the very thought of it. The cause was beyond my comprehension, and even if I did know the reason, I doubt I would accept it.
While the others left, I noticed him hanging back and assisting the light and sound members in organizing everything. I gave Eugene one last frustrated glare before heading to my house.
I threw my phone on the couch and peered at the empty basket that had previously occupied Brave. I should get rid of it. I kept myself distracted for the next hour by cleaning the living area and cooking some supper for myself. I was preparing coffee when I felt a severe ache in my lower abdomen and gripped the countertop for support.
I figured I was on my period without even checking. I went to the bathroom to fetch a pad, which I preferred over a tampon, but cursed aloud when there were only two of them left. Lorraine used mine since she forgot hers, and I never refilled them. It was unusual for me to have my periods on time, so I expected it to take longer.
I finished my dinner and went to Carla's place, hoping she had some pads that would last me through the night. Because of my PCOS, I regularly had terrible menstrual pain, and I seldom used prescriptions as they had their own side effects. And today was no exception. I don't think I could go to the store without passing out.
I opened the small gate to Carla's house, but I was stopped in my tracks when I spotted Eugene on the patio, animatedly conversing with the actress. They both appeared to be old acquaintances, which irritated me for some reason. Period hormones!
"Hola, mi amor."
Carla called out when she saw me, drawing Eugene's eyes to me. He was holding a sheet of paper and smiling at me. I wasn't in the mood to return his gesture, so I just nodded. At least he acknowledged my presence. I was no longer invisible to him.
"Can I talk to you for a second?"
Carla instantly excused herself from Eugene and rushed to me with concern in her features when she heard my weary voice.
"What is it?"
I cast a peek at Eugene, who had his phone out, and, after confirming that he wasn't listening, I closed the space between Carla and me. Now, don't get me wrong; I didn't mind discussing menstruation or sanitary napkins in public. It was simply the idea of doing it in front of him that made me feel weird.
"Do you have any additional pads?"
Carla flashed me a look that suggested, 'You still use those?' But I was grateful she didn't say those words aloud.
"I use a menstrual cup, and Brenda prefers tampons. If you wish, I can get those from her."
I shook my head.
"No. I am a heavy bleeder."
And I am not used to using them. However, she doesn't have to know that.
Carla smacked her lips, contemplating, and then her eyes brightened up.
"Oh, Eugene was heading to the town, and I just gave him a list of goodies to buy. He can get the napkins for you."
I almost turned down her offer, but then changed my mind. I was giving him too much significance than necessary; hence, in order to erase him from my thoughts, I should interact with him casually.
We both walked up to the tall guy, who slipped his phone into his back pocket before turning to face us.
"Eugene, can you get something for River here while you are at it?"
Eugene looked briefly at me before responding with an affirmative nod to Carla's question.
I gestured for him to hand me the pen and paper and jotted down the type and brand that I was most comfortable with. It was very personal information, and the thought of sharing it with him made my skin crawl.
"Thank you. I'll give you the money once you return."
"It's on me, woman."
Carla stated before Eugene could respond, so he just closed his semi open lips.
After that, he left, and I turned back to Carla to ask her a question that had been bugging me for a while.
"How do you know him? I had no idea he worked with us."
Carla's eyes widened, as if I were an idiot for not knowing him.
"Eugene is famous. Everyone is familiar with him. He's really nice, and if I wasn't already dating, I swear I would have asked him out. He's such a darling."
I didn't ask any further questions and just thanked her before leaving.
Darling, ha? Sure, he is.
...........