Chapter Fourteen Imagine Me & You, dir. by Ol Parker
Eli feels his heart thudding in his chest, bouncing around like a bongo drum, like it might burst out like he’s John Hurt
in Alien .
He stares at Michael as he reads the article. Not the fake-dating article.
The article.
Lavender Country.
He knew today had to be the day, that he couldn’t put this off any longer. He has to share what he’s been doing with Michael, come clean about this whole scheme of his, to show his work and plead with Michael
to believe in him.
Just this once.
Eli licks his lips, his throat impossibly dry, his tongue heavy.
“I know this isn’t—” he starts to say. But Michael just holds up a hand, silencing Eli. He rubs his sweaty palms on his knees,
watching as Michael’s eyes carefully dart across the page, reading the article line by line.
The seconds count down like hours, Eli wondering if he’ll make it out of the building alive. How could he think this would
go well? Of course Michael won’t go along with this plan, why would he?
For years, Michael has told him exactly what he’s looking for.
And for years, Eli has refused to give it to him.
And for what? All because his pride told him he was above writing the kinds of low-effort “articles” that Michael was looking for.
Because he never wanted to sink so low as to write listicles about some Marvel movie garbage or steal content from people online for their own benefit.
How could he possibly think that this would go well for him, how could he—
“I love it.”
Eli stares at Michael for a moment. “Huh?”
“I love it.” Michael scrolls back to the top of the article, rereading the first few lines. “This story of growing up so isolated
and alone, with no one to learn from...” Michael pauses. “It’s really good, Eli.”
He wants to laugh, but he stops himself, figuring it probably wouldn’t read as the best reaction.
“You’re not serious.”
Michael raises an eyebrow. “What? You think it’s not up to snuff?”
“No, no, it’s just, well...” Eli had expected anger. He expected Michael to laugh at him the moment Eli gave him the incorrect
article. He’d also expected it to be Michael’s final straw, for him to order Eli to pack his things and make his way out of
the Vent offices, never to be seen again.
Eli expected to spend his night job hunting.
“It’s not what you asked for.” Eli swallows.
“No... no, it’s not.” Michael’s voice is careful, calculated even. “And to be quite frank, I should fire you for wasting
my time. Going behind my back, writing something that I didn’t ask for. But I have to admire the balls it took to ignore me
and do what you thought was right.”
Then Michael pauses.
“That wasn’t offensive, right? To say you have balls? I can’t keep track of the language these days.”
Eli stops himself from rolling his eyes.
“It’s fine,” he lies. Now’s not the time to bring up Michael’s gross transphobia. “You mean that? Really?”
“I thought I was looking for something more exciting, scandalous. But I can see that you’ve taken the lessons I’ve been trying to teach you to heart. Just not in the way I expected.”
“I am sorry, Michael, I never—”
Another hand stops Eli. “You did the right thing. Well, not the right thing, but the interesting thing. And that’s what I’ve
been looking for from you.”
“So...” Eli doesn’t want to ask, but he’s realizing that he hasn’t actually gotten confirmation. “You’re going to publish it?”
“Yes, we’re going to publish your story,” Michael tells him with a satisfied smirk.
Eli has to stop himself from leaping into the air.
“That’s, ah, that’s amazing!” He’s at a total loss for words. His heart still pounds in his chest wildly, and his hands shake,
almost like there’s too much energy in his body that’s itching to escape. “Thank you so much, Michael.”
“We’ll have to discuss some things. Obviously, I want more eyes on this to see if there are any edits that need to be made.
I’ll read through it a few more times. And then there’s your pay. I think we’ll have to do a freelance rate on this since
you aren’t officially one of our staff writers.” Michael pauses, as if remembering something. “Which, speaking of.”
Eli feels relief that he isn’t the one who has to bring up the writing position.
“I promised you something,” Michael says. “And I’m not reneging on that—”
Oh no.
“But we do have to wait until we see the reaction to the article before I can offer you anything.”
Fair enough , Eli thinks to himself, though he’d love nothing more than to celebrate tonight with Patricia and Rose. “I understand.”
“But don’t feel down; I’ve got high hopes, Eli.”
“Thank you so much for trusting me, Michael. It means the world.”
“I know.” Michael beams. “Now get back out there. I’ve got an article to edit,” he says with a wink.
“Of course, yeah.” Eli stands, gathering his bag. He hadn’t even let the workday properly start before he’d marched into Michael’s
office to tell him the truth. “Thanks again.”
Michael nods, and effectively shuts Eli out until he’s made his quick exit from the office. Eli drops his bag at his desk
before he makes a beeline for the bathroom. Once the door shuts, he can’t stop himself.
“Fuck yes!” His words echo off the tiled walls, and his coworkers can probably—definitely—hear him, but he can’t bring himself
to care. He jumps, his hands balled into tight fists. “Yes, yes!” He feels...
He doesn’t know what he feels exactly.
So many emotions run through his head all at once that he isn’t sure what to face first. What he does know is that it’s happening.
Finally. After years of wanting this, of sitting in on meetings with Michael, being told his work is too highbrow or too tough to read,
of being afraid to go somewhere else.
It’s finally worth it.
Eli smiles at himself in the mirror, and he feels his chest rising with excitement.
“Finally,” he says to himself.
Then a toilet flushes.
Eli’s eyes shoot toward the pair of feet that he didn’t notice before under a stall door. The door opens, and who else would
step out besides Keith?
“You’re excited,” he says, eyeing Eli as he walks toward the sink.
“Yeah, I am.” Eli turns, his eyes darting from Keith to the floor, then back again.
“Any particular reason?”
“I’ve finally been offered a writing position,” Eli tells him. Not a total lie. Eli’s refusing to believe in a world where
the article flops and Michael withdraws the offer.
“That’s amazing, Eli. Congratulations.”
“Yeah, it is... amazing.”
Keith smiles at him. “I’m so proud of you.”
“I wasn’t really looking for your approval,” Eli tells him. “But thanks anyway.”
“Come on, Eli. Don’t be like that.”
“Like what?”
“If we’re going to work together again, we have to learn to respect one another.”
“Like how you respected me when you told me you didn’t love me out of the blue?”
Keith opens his mouth to say something, but the door to the bathroom opens again. This time it’s Greg, another of the staff
writers. And by the look on his face, it’s obvious he knows he walked in on something. “Uh... sorry, Keith. Michael wanted
to see you really quick.”
“Did he say why?” Keith asks.
Greg shakes his head.
“Okay, thanks.”
Greg nods and exits the bathroom as quickly as he arrived.
“You know, I am proud of you,” Keith says. “I wasn’t lying.” He stares at Eli, that gaze familiar and comforting at one point in their relationship.
But now Eli can see the frustration behind it. Keith heads out, and Eli watches as the door closes behind him.
Eli stands there for a moment longer, double-checking under each of the stall doors quickly before he goes back to his celebration.
Because he refuses to let Keith bring his mood down.
This has been five years in the making, and he won’t let this slip away.
His phone vibrates in his pocket, and he fishes it out quickly to see a text from Peter.
Peter: Are you still interested in my work Halloween party?
Eli smiles at his phone.
The article is done. At least, the writing of it is.
That means that his obligation to Peter is done, which means that they can be friends now. Not that they weren’t friends before,
but now, there’s nothing to stop them, nothing to make Eli second-guess every single one of their interactions.
Eli: of course
Eli: we’ve got something else to celebrate too!
Peter: Oh?
Eli: i’ll tell you later
Peter: Can’t wait.
Peter: Meet at my place?
Eli stares at the messages, gnawing at his bottom lip as his heart continues to thud in his chest.
Eli: do i need a costume?