Merrymaker (Name in Lights #4)

Chapter 2 - Cleo

CLEO

TO: ihopeurhappydummy@

FROM: themerrymaker@

SUBJECT: So nice not seeing you anywhere ever!

Well. So far, so good. I’ve been in LA for an entire month now, and I haven’t run into you.

I’m glad.

I mean, I’m sad for you, because I am objectively awesome and anyone would be lucky to run into me.

I’m a fucking delight! That probably reads as sarcasm to you, because you’re a sarcastic asshole.

A sarcasthole, if you will. Or at least you used to be a sarcasthole.

I wouldn’t know what kind of personality you’re rocking now.

But I am still an actual genuine fucking delight.

I just realized what today is. I mean, I woke up knowing that today is today, as I do every single day of my amazing life. On top of being a fucking delight I am really well organized.

But I had forgotten what Los Angeles is like in the winter.

I went to a holiday party at the beach in Santa Monica last weekend.

On the beach! In the middle of December!

This time last year I was in New York and I had tiny icicles on my eyelashes because I teared up watching that movie you hate through a store window.

That’s what people with beating hearts do when they watch that movie, Dummy. They cry.

Anyway, I just realized it’s December 19, which is why I’m writing this.

It has been exactly eight years since I last saw you.

Or it will be later tonight. So much has happened for you since then.

A lot has happened for me too, of course, just not in any ways that get reported on in the trades.

Not that I read the trades. And I certainly don’t Google you.

But one hears things. One cannot but help it.

I don’t know if anyone has ever truly meant this in an email before, but I really do hope you’re well.

I can’t say that I hope this email finds you well, because I don’t know that this email will ever find you at all.

But I hope someone finds you well. I just hope that someone isn’t me.

Because I really don’t want to find you. Not out there in the world anyway.

In my mind, you’ve been happily living your life.

You’ve totally forgotten about me. Well, not totally.

That would be impossible, given how memorable I am (please refer to genuine fucking delightfulness reminder above).

But in my mind, you’ve forgotten about our last encounter and the silly rivalries of our past. So, so silly.

Ahhhh youth! I bless those younger versions of ourselves.

And I bless the current version of you that I envision.

Which is why I really don’t want to run into you IRL and discover that you’re still a soulless, judgmental, grumpy-ass mofo with mostly terrible taste in films and a sociopathic level of disrespect for live theatre and anyone who chooses a career in it.

Happy holidays, Dummy.

PS: I feel bad for calling you all of those things given that I know you do possess a soul, but the wanton disrespect for live theatre bit still stands.