Chapter 2
For a while now, Shannon’s been cagey about letting anyone meet her new girlfriend. She said they could hang out after Thanksgiving, and then she said in the new year, and now it’s February and Eve still hasn’t met Petra.
“Petra and I are casual,” Shannon says. “How do you casually welcome a new girlfriend to the friend group when the others are the host of a dating show, a singer of love songs, and the cofounders of an app that promises to secure true love forevermore?”
“I see how that might not scream casual,” Eve admits.
But Shannon finally relents. Eve offers to host even though she hasn’t run it by Danny.
Ever since Christmas, she and Danny have hardly been in the same place.
He’s had meetings and conferences most weeks, and she’s had meetings and shows most weekends.
One of these nights, a Saturday when she’s out of town, he does not text her good night, I love you.
Which in the beginning, she might have found something of a relief, but is now so out of character it worries her.
She asks if he’s okay, and he says yep. It makes her feel crazy, then guilty for never previously appreciating a partner who always told her how he felt.
The night of the dinner, Eve puts on the new Stella Seaport album, which is excellent (unbiased), and starts pressing the water out of the blocks of tofu that will go into their curry.
Danny is cleaning the bathroom. He has been for some time.
Should she ask if he needs to talk? Loiter around him until he opens up?
Make a racket with the silverware until he notices her?
Eve is unsure how she could have made it nearly two years into their relationship without learning how to ask if he needs space.
He has never before seemed like he wanted it.
She places the cutting board on the counter and wipes the water into the sink.
Eve’s phone vibrates with a text. She thinks it’s Shannon, but actually, it’s a stranger who has somehow gotten ahold of her number and is now using it to suggest she die, bitch.
Eve flips her phone on the counter. For the past few weeks, there’s been an unusually vitriolic strain of hatred toward Eve.
It started with an interview Eve sat where audiences found her fake and grating.
(She mentioned her love for Danny being inspiration for the album, and this, apparently, was equal parts gloating, unbelievable, and annoying.) And then, a few days later, a rumor spread that she and Stella had a huge feud on tour, and when Stella posted on Instagram saying it wasn’t true, everyone assumed Stella was just doing Eve a favor.
Eve’s manager has assured her it will pass.
She has already changed her phone number twice.
The door buzzes, and Eve presses the button. A moment later, she’s welcoming in Gigi and Julian, both of whom are dressed in goose-down puffers and leather gloves. There is a still-sparking tension between them, like they have been interrupted mid-argument.
“Oh,” Julian says, “look, it’s Eve! Hi, Eve.” He hands her a bottle of wine and goes past her. “Danny?”
Gigi hands Eve another bottle. “We’ve brought along a third. Meet Palpable Tension. Is Shannon here yet?”
“En route. Hey, I was actually hoping I could talk to you about something.”
“What’s up?”
“Well, I have a bunch of Instagram followers now. But my label thinks I’d have more if I posted more than, you know, once a month, grudgingly.”
“Gee,” Gigi says. “Imagine that.”
“But I hate it.”
“Then tell your label you hate it. Have someone manage it for you.”
“But I don’t want anyone else doing it, either. I hate the thought of random people being forced to think about me every time they open their phones.” It makes her skin itch just thinking about it.
“But you want your music to do well,” Gigi says.
“Yeah, of course. I just wish I could keep everything else private. Like—I’m already writing songs about my feelings.
I’m already being vulnerable. And when I do try to talk about Danny, everyone’s like, ‘You’re just trying to advertise for his company, you’re so fake, blah blah. ’ There’s no winning.”
“This is complicated by the fact that Danny is weirdly catnippish for the thirsty Instagram set,” Gigi says.
This is true. Danny has gained thousands of Instagram followers in the past four months despite the fact that he does not post. All he does is get tagged in the Pattern office Reels looking cute.
Someone always comments, Omg who is the third guy?
?? And then the account replies, @dannyaagaard!
He’s beeping n booping that code so well :’).
And then a bunch of people go follow him. Danny seems bemused but unbothered by it. Eve, who gets a lot more comments saying things like, I want to eat your hair and why does she have asymmetrical boobs, cannot bring herself to be quite so unbothered.
“Anything I can do about it?”
“Not really,” Gigi says. “The perils of a cute boyfriend.”
“I guess I just hate the fact that I’m meant to be a limitless well of vulnerability to people who don’t have to put themselves on the line in return,” Eve says.
“I get that,” Gigi says. “More than I can possibly convey.”
“You’re giving me a very meaningful look right now,” Eve says. “But meaning what, I know not.”
“Let’s get the boys out here.”
Eve sets the wine on the counter and follows Gigi to the bathroom.
“Want to move to LA?” Julian is saying. “Have a kid? Get a PhD? Use our new feature, Choices—which measures how much you both actually care about this thing one way or another and how it will impact your relationship.”
Danny is sitting on the tile cleaning the base of the sink with a Clorox wipe.
“Move to LA?” Danny says.
“You know, insert random life decision of your choice.”
“Feels kind of specific.”
“Hello,” Gigi says. “What if we all had some wine. That could be an activity.”
“That sounds great,” Julian says. “That would be a really great activity.”
Danny and Eve glance at each other.
The door buzzes again.
“That’s Shannon and Petra,” Eve says. “Everyone be nice and not weird.”
“When have we ever been weird?” Julian says.
“Five seconds ago,” Danny says. “But also, ten seconds ago.”
Julian concedes that this is fair. They all gird themselves for unweirdness and go to the door to meet Shannon’s new girlfriend.