“What? No! Come on, Margo. You just appeared in a viral video. People love you. They’re quoting you all over the place. You’re funny. They see that. What’s the problem?”
“The problem,” I say, “is that I’m a writer. I might work at TrendBlend, but I’m trying to create work with integrity, with depth. I want to be taken seriously—not quoted like a fucking sitcom character!”
“Don’t be so negative. You’re so much more than a five minute cat video, anyone can see that. And since when did you start apologizing for who you are? That’s not the Margo I know.”
I point at the screen again. “This is not who I am, Owen. This drunk, sorry mess is not at all who I am. ‘The Margo you know’ has her shit together now. And she would like to gain respect in the future—not lose it. How can anyone take me seriously when I’m in a viral video drunk as hell and cooing over cats? This is all your fault!”
Owen shakes his head, refusing to see it from my perspective.
“I get why you’re upset, I do, but the truth is, you come across great in that video. Like the funny, chill, and awesome girl you are. Nothing to be embarrassed about. Only a real asshole would see that video and laugh at you rather than with you. Like Brad, for instance.”
I’m about to give it to Owen loud and clear before catching sight of a couple of coworkers passing close by. I sit up and flash the kind of ‘nothing wrong here’ smile I haven’t had to use since high school, then lean back in toward Owen, directing my words at him low and hard like a silenced gun.
“I got a text this morning from my teenage cousin saying that she loved my latest piece and that it finally made her realize what she wanted to do when she left high school. I thought she meant the air quality control board study I reported on, and that she wanted to be a journalist—so I told her to go for it and not let anyone hold her back.” I gesture at my screen again. “Now I realize she meant she wanted to make an idiot of herself online to get attention!”
Owen shrugs and smiles, unfazed by the boiling anger I’m only suppressing because we’re at work. “Follow your dreams, that’s what I always say.”
“Argh!” I growl in his direction. “I can’t believe I let this happen! And you. How could you take advantage of me like that?”
Finally, Owen’s brow furrows. “What are you talking about?”
“There I was, vulnerable and not thinking straight, and you get me hammered then stick me on a public video!”
“I didn’t know they were making a video! I thought we’d just have a few drinks downstairs and you could vent— let your hair down a little and forget about things.”
“I forgot about everything! That’s the problem. And now I can’t do anything about this,” I say, throwing a helpless hand in the direction of the screen. “It’s done…”
I hear Owen clear his throat beside me, then feel his hand press gently on my arm.
“When I found out what they were filming yesterday,” he says, the tone of his voice gone low and soothing, “I honestly thought it would just be a funny little video. Something a few people would see online; that you’d watch later and have a laugh at, and that would be all. If I knew it was going to be this big I wouldn’t have let you do it. I’m many kinds of asshole, but I’m not the kind who ruins careers for fun. And I truly don’t believe your career is in jeopardy. Can you forgive me?”
I sigh a little, brush my hair behind my ear, and nod.
“But in a way…” Owen says, “it’s kinda your fault, for being so damned charismatic and cute.”
“Fuck you,” I smile, punching him softly in the arm.
Owen laughs as he checks his watch and then stands up from his seat.
“Look,” he says, “since I seem to have undone all the ‘good friend’ stuff I attempted to do for you yesterday, why don’t you let me try again. Drinks after work? I’ll listen to you vent about anything and everything Carl-or career-or kitten-related, and promise you no cameras—unless you count selfies. We haven’t been out in a while so we’re overdue anyway.”
I pretend to think about it. “You’re paying?”
“If you’re drinking.”
I grin. “Ok, fine.”
“Great. Anyway, I have to run for my meeting with Melissa.” He makes a faux-terrified ‘kid who just got sent to the principal’s office’ face.
“Melissa?” I say, raising an interested eyebrow. “Is someone in trouble?”
“Oh yeah.” Owen nods with heavy seriousness. “I’m pitching the dating vlog again.”
“Oh? You think she’ll take it this time?”
Owen breathes deep, his chest puffing up.
“All I know is that there’s so much more I could do if I could just make videos instead of writing articles. Or I could even do both. Either way, I’m reading to branch out.” He looks at me, and there’s a slight nervousness behind his ever-cool eyes. “Don’t you think so?”
“Absolutely,” I say without hesitation. “And you’re awesome at video. Melissa’s an idiot if she doesn’t take you up on it.”
The nervousness disappears and Owen squeezes my shoulder as he steps past.
“Thanks, buddy. I’ll catch you later.”
“Good luck,” I say, enjoying the good vibe Owen always leaves me with.
Then I remember asking him to show me his abs after he brought me home yesterday and immediately slam my face into my palms. Only lifting it back up to Google if anyone has ever really died of embarrassment.
I don’t see Owen for the rest of the day, but I remember what he tells me about not apologizing for who I am, and how only an asshole would laugh at me instead of with me. Somehow it makes the day a little easier, lets me share in the comments from coworkers rather than take them to heart. Owen’s always had a knack for making me feel better about the kinds of things that feel like world-enders to me, for spinning my anxieties around so I can see the humor in them, or at least see past them long enough to take a deep breath. When we first met, his ridiculously beautiful face made it difficult to appreciate just how decent a guy he really was—but now his ridiculously great friendship makes me almost forget how hot he is. Almost.
I’ve never let myself think of Owen as more than just a friend, though. (Ok, maybe sometimes. In the bath. And even then it’s not his personality I’m thinking about—so it doesn’t count.) In college I liked him too much as a friend to want to use him and lose him like my other one-night stands, and I also knew he’d never be into anything more serious than that. And now, years later, I’ve been burned too many times by poor decisions to pretend that I don’t realize that dating Owen would be so obviously one of the worst decisions I could make.