This shouldn’t be a lot to ask.
It doesn’tsoundlike a lot to ask.
“It’s not a video of us if that’s what worries you. It can just be you. Or you and someone else you pick, I don’t—”
She holds up her hand, palm out, stop. “Please hear what I’m saying to you. I don’t do recordings. I’m really not sure how else to explain it.”
“I’ll pay you—”
“I. Don’t. Do. Recordings.”
“—your tuition. For the rest of the year.”
She tilts her head, and I plough forward, taking it as a sign of interest, as a chink in her thick armour.
“Whatever you need for school. The cost of your rent here. Textbooks. Groceries. Electricity. Send me a bill for all of it, and I’ll pay. I just… Ineedthis.”
Rosa shifts her weight, her gaze somewhere on the floor. She stands, walking past me to the doorway and stopping there, cupping her elbows, nervous.
There’s a vulnerability to her that wasn’t in evidence before, and it breaks me to see it because I’m the one who put it there.
“I want you to leave.”
I get to my feet. The weight of the rejection is so heavy I’m surprised I can stand. “Why? Why won’t you help me?”
“I don’t—”
“Do recordings,” I finish for her, my voice thick with disappointment.
“Because I need to have an end date.” Rosa shifts her weight again, frowning, the cupping elbows turning to a self-hug. “That’s why.” She drags her eyes up to meet mine, the effort visible. “I don’t plan on doing this forever and I need to know that once I stop, it actually stops. It’s nothing to do with you. It’s me. A recording is forever.”
“I’d never—”
She cuts her gaze away, and it’s like my words break at the same time. Of course, I’d never, but that means nothing. Pam and Tommy never and I could still buy a copy today and that was before the internet really got going. Before people mastered all those new rabbit holes. Before the dark web.
Her explanation makes sense, but I still reject it. The frantic pulse in my brain insists it must be Rosa. No one else will do.
Lily was good. Lily was beautiful. But Lily never made my heart hum with satisfaction the way it does when I look at Rosa’s snippet. To feast on the same sight but with my twisted version of a happy ending has become my obsession. The only bright spot in what has been a very fucking awful month.
No. A very fucking awfulyear.
Deep inside me, something connects with her image. Her diminutive size, her wide-set eyes, her expressive face. The waving hands that do far more talking than her mouth.
Ithasto be her.
Seeing her in person again, memorising the ways her physical reality is different than—betterthan—my grainy footage reignites that obsession until it burns deeper into my brain.
I think of Zach’s arrangement with Lily. One last try.
“I’ll pay your full tuition, until you’ve got your degree, even your masters or PhD. Any expenses. You can—” My throat clicks, and I have to clear it before I can finish. “You can do whatever you need to during that time, and I’ll pay. Five videos and I’ll fund whatever you need. You can stop doing everything else you’re doing right now.”
She tucks her hair behind her right ear, tugging at the lobe. “Whatever you saw on the night of the party must’ve looked a lot better on camera than it was in real life.”
“You looked fucking incredible.” I try to hold her gaze but her eyes drift to the side, escaping me when I most need her to stay focused. When I need her to get in sync with me so I can get what I want.
“Why do you need a recording?”
The question puts me on the back foot. I’m the one paying. Why does it matter?
