Page 111 of How To Plot a Payback

“You know, it’s just, now that I’m thinking about it, it strikes me that wouldn’t it just be so grand and unexpected if Lance went to space after all?”

It’s late Wednesday afternoon and there’s a script in my hands. The writers room is stiflingly hot. I’m convinced the HVAC is broken despite the fact I’ve checked on the thermostat three times.

My eyes ache from kneading them.

My foot has somehow found its way to the seat of my chair, where it’s perched as though I’m captain of a ship setting sail for America.

I tore my glasses off an hour ago, and now they rest flopped down beside my laptop and a stack of papers I’ve been throwing around for the past hour. The sleeves of my button-up are rolled up to my forearms in the most ridiculously stereotypical working-man-trying-to-emphasize-he’s-a-working-man-by-slapping-the-sheets-in-his-hand-while-rolling-up-his-sleeves way, but here we are.

“But Ashley and Lance have just gotten together, again—” says Erik.

“Oh, and what’s new?” I say, waving him off. “What’s bloody new? No, what we need, I think”—I snap the script against the table—“is something actually new. And I’m thinking . . . space.”

Now that’s an idea.

Separate scenes.

Separate sets for separate scenes.

Separate times for rehearsing separate scenes for separate sets.

Separate dates for separate times for rehearsing separate scenes for separate sets.

Him in a makeshift aircraft. Her somewhere off in the apartment, sitting by her phone. Zero faces or arms or hairs within reach.

“We already thought about space. You said it was absurd.”

“Ah”—I put up a finger—“yes. But that was before we considered including . . . a sloth.”

Erik frowns. “A sloth?”

“A friendly space sloth,” I say gleefully. “Everyone loves sloths. It’s a trending animal. People adore them.”

Kye, for the record, hates sloths.

He made it absolutely clear that he “had a bad experience” once during a Los Angeles Zoo publicity event for season 4. And yes, perhaps I’m “backpedaling” in my growth. Perhaps I haven’t entirely learned my lesson after all that’s happened with plotting against Lavender. But this is a two-steps-forward-and-one-step-back kind of thing. And plotting against Kye to decidedly ruin his life will just be my one step back.

Paula’s eyes are shooting at me as if to say, Hey, sweetie, we’re nodding but you sound a bit manic.

This isn’t because of jealousy, for the record.

It’s not because I want Lavender to myself, no.

To prove it, I should let you know I even had a plan in case she asked, “So remember this weekend when we kissed in front of all your neighbors?”

I would smile serenely and tell her never to challenge an actor.

That I was competitive. I wouldn’t be proved wrong.

And yes, perhaps the whole thing was a stretch, but at the end of the day she would believe me, because time and resolve would be on my side. With time, she would grasp that we were simply acquaintances. Work friends. Dog park friends.

Perhaps, one day, even close friends.

As with Delilah, I would end up dating someone, and Lavender would end up accidentally meddling in our relationship and ultimately destroying it. I had accepted this fate. I planned to live my life happily-ever-after in it.

She would carry on dating quite literally anyone in the world she pleased.

Even Kye, with his frequent, not-so-subtle hints.