Act 1: Love and Loss, Chapter 1: Life As It Always Is

The beginning of it all

I am not much of what you would consider to be a lovebird. 

My boyfriend- Phil or Philly Cheesesteak or even Cheese for short would probably agree. Ever since we met way back in the 5th grade he had a crush on me, and yes, although it took a while, I eventually got a slight crush on him which he leapt on almost immediately. From that day forward he was my lovey, dovey, and, yes, cheesy ride or die. Now Phil was very much into the idea of soul mates and I…was not. I strictly believe in the fact that although there are some people who seem made for each other no one really is. I mean how many times have you seen “soul mates” fall into a pit filled with despair and a disturbing amount of divorce…yeah far too often. So I decided to take him on board the ship of my life and attempt to ignore this belief in favor of mine aptly titled “Jocelyn's 3 step process to being happy in a situation where one of you is in love.” Creative, huh. It goes something like this: step 1 is “find things to do.” No one sided love life will ever make it off the ground if you sit and stare into each other's eyes all day. It is upheld by taking every moment to do something like go to the arcade or the carnival. Whatever it takes to keep yourself occupied and your lover happy. Step 2: “learn to cook.” There is an old saying that says the key to a man's heart is his stomach and I could not possibly agree more. Phil is no exception but rather a reinforcement of this stereotype. His favorite food? Ravioli. How many times could he eat it in a row until he got bored of it? Till the end of time. I will not lie when I say this has been one of the few things on this short list that I despise. Cooking has been the bane of my existence since when I was little and learning how to make a grilled cheese but in order to keep this wreck together this has worked thus far. That brings us to the 3rd and most important step: “complement often.” Your lover is kept that way by the fact that he or she feels like you make them a better person. To reinforce this you must say things like “Your hair is so soft”, “You are such a good writer”, or maybe even “You are so cute when you pound down 5 entire plates of ravioli in one sitting.” Yes I actually did say that last one which made him giggle in his ravioli fueled stupor. Although you may dish out all these compliments never, ever, ask for him to compliment you back. If you do he might get annoyed so just let him do it on his own, if he ever will. With these 3 steps and an insane amount of luck you too can be just like me, kach…sorry horrible reference, Cars is like my favorite movie of all time. Anyways, as I was saying, if you follow these steps without fail or deviation you can get any guy to fall in love and stay in love with you even if you want them to or not, employ and enjoy at your very own discretion and for all legal purposes you didn’t get this from me.

“Honey! Where is the cat?” “Did Emily get into the cupboard again?” She thought back to when that happened a couple weeks ago and they had to take their beloved orange tabby to the vet. “Nope,” Phil came into their room hauling the overweight tabby in his arms causing her to rapidly shut the notebook with the words ‘Jo Thatcher- Accounting Mon/Wed/Fri’ which was filled for the most part with endless scrawls of things like ‘balance sheets’ and ‘depreciation’. She wasn’t usually one for diaries so she settled for the nearest notebook. “Where was she?” Phil set her on the bed “In the closet nesting in my socks.” Their college apartment was small with only 4 small rooms: the bedrooms, one of which was converted to a closet of sorts, a kitchen, and the hallway if you could count that. ‘The socks’ which Phil referred to was a pile of mismatched and misstored socks sitting in the corner of the closet. “You still need to clean that.” Jo teased knowing her food vacuum of a boy friend wasn’t about to even touch the increasing stack. He laughed, a hearty laugh befitting of someone nicknamed Philly Cheesesteak. A moment after plopping on the bed feet still on the floor he spoke mostly to the ceiling although it was intended for her “Hey, Jo you wanna get some coffee? I have been dying to check out that new cafe down on Klines.” Klines was the sort of official name of the main street of the college town, legend has it that Klines was the name of some ancient monarch but given that they were in the middle of West Virginia it wasn’t likely. “Of course, Cheese,” she glanced at the clock, it read 6:30 pm, “I just have a bit more work to do on some Accounting work, you know how it is. Once I’m done we can go, alright?” He sat up “sure, I suppose I should probably do some work too.” He gave her a small peck on her cheek before leaving her alone with the notebook once again. Instead of opening it she just stared at the composite notebook texture allowing her eyes to glaze over. You cannot keep this up Jocelyn. It will catch up to you someday.

“Strange place.” “My thoughts exactly.” They whispered over the post modern style table inside a brutalist coffee shop that resided in a very rustic town. To say it stood out like a sore thumb would be an insult to all thumbs in the world. This stood out like a parakeet residing as the CEO of a crypto currency company. It sat on the more industrial end of Klines, fitting given how much concrete it had taken to build it. In front of Jo sat a mocha, if you could call it that, it was more like if you took coffee from a young age and told it tales of chocolate and expected it to become cacao beans. This almost atomic hint of chocolate was rather metaphysical rather than actual and instead all she tasted was bitter roast. In front of Phil sat a surprisingly normal muffin beside a tall plastic cup filled with something about the color of gasoline. At one point it may have been tea but after years and years of war with whoever made it it became more like a strange fusion betwixt a cold glass of paint thinner and a whole container of cinnamon. Phil took a slow methodical sip “This sucks.” Jo sniffed “Can we leave now, we’ve stayed more than 15 minutes?” He nodded and together they stood and, not even bothering to spare it a second glance, walked out the door. He held his hand out to his side whilst hers were jammed into her too small pockets, each one breathing in the night air. As they walked home neither said a word, almost as if the bad coffee had stamped their words right out of their mouth. Jo looked to the moon then over at her boyfriend who’s eyes resided on the sidewalk. He almost looks sad Jo looked to the moon once more after a place like that who wouldn’t. As they reached the door of their modest apartment she couldn’t help but be thankful tomorrow was saturday. “Hey babe, how would you like to go to the carnaval tomorrow?” Phil’s sullen face shifted slightly towards the positive “I think…I would like that Jo.”

Round and round it goes. Her eyes traced the rotation of the cheerily lit ferris wheel in the distance. It was common past time to spend a sunny Saturday at the carnival. In terms of “the perfect day.” this was as close to it as you were going to get. Although the unrelenting sun pounded down on the flattened ground it was balanced like a well made top with just the sweetest dash of wind. The second that her foot touched the dirt the memory of the horrendous coffee torture house slipped away on the breeze along with the vibrant scent of cotton candy and deep fried you name it. “2 adults? That’ll be 20 bucks. Cash or card?” Phil handed over a Jackson and claimed the unnaturally yellow tickets “At Pallies everyday is a good day.” the cashier groaned the infamous slogan as they began walking towards the best part of the carnival: funnel cakes. They stood together watching the heavenly dough sizzle and turn into the signature golden swoops and swirls associated with better days. Phil ordered first and so it was customary that he should receive it first. Despite this norm Jocelyn who ordered something arguably simpler got hers well in advance. Sugar and cinnamon. Simple, yes, elegant, you know it, and in the hands of a hungry woman it was also perfect. Phils arrived not a moment after. His usual titled ‘Dream Ultimate CheeseCake Surprise’ the surprise was the sheer amount of calories that resided in such a small (five inch across) vessel. The benches were not comfortable but they seldom were. As they sat taking in the funnel cake, splinters and the midday heat. Jocelyn's eyes were drawn yet again to the multicolored ferris wheel. Determined to board it she sped up her consumption of the deep fried dough. “I’m getting on it.” Phil didn’t need to ask what ‘it’ was, she rode ‘it’ every time they came and every time he gave the exact same response: “Have fun, honey”. Cheese steak was notorious for his motion sickness. If it was a crime to throw up on a car ride he wouldn’t just have a large bounty but the title ‘public enemy number one’ would be firmly shoved up his butt. Even glancing at the slowly rotating wheel made his head dizzy and so without looking up from the food he spoke “Have fun, Honey.” and with these three words of confirmation she swallowed the last sugary bite and was briskly marching towards the waiting line. In the grand scheme of the universe half an hour is but a speck on the miles wide lapel of the suit coat of eternity. But to Jocelyn this speck was approximately the size of an iceberg and, just as it sunk the Titanic, it too is sinking her patience. But, within the hour the line had melted to her point on the iceberg. “Next up.” Without a second thought and without a hint of hesitation she stepped onto the seat. It was only when she was locked in that the nature of said seat was made known to be…less than safe yet she sat anyway confident that the universe would not allow her to die today. With this existential thought in her mind the wheel began to turn. After the first couple jitters and bumps Jocelyn became accommodated to the wackiness of the ride and instead of holding on for dear life she instead looked down upon the people below. She could see Philly: the miniature cheesesteak sitting on the bench next to the funnel cakes from her perch. He didn't even bother looking at me. She tried waving but he didn’t notice that either. Well, his eyes were never really the best. 180 degrees later and the bottom approached yet again. Currently she was sitting alone but as the wheel came to a jittery halt the operator opened her seat latch and in stepped a man. When it came to men she was heavily aware what it was that constituted a man. Tall, blonde, strong, sexy…my god…this wasn’t just a man this was a MAN. And not a bad one at that. Instinctually she shifted to the outer edge of the seat which was still only a couple inches away from his khaki shorts. He sat nonchalantly with that woman trap of a smile. The man saw her move and laughed, “I don't bite.” She felt her cheeks start to turn a light crimson “I um I never thought you did…” she laughed nervously and turned away embarrassed. He laughed again and went quiet again. It was half a rotation before he spoke again “Clint.” she finally decided to face him in his stupidly perfect jawline. “I’m Jocelyn, but you can call me Jo.” Cheeks still rosy, she sat as upright as she could and hid under a shroud of false confidence. He flashed the smile again, perfect teeth reflecting the glint of the day “Pleasure to meet you Jo.” he held out his hand to shake hers. Timidly, she took it. His grip was firm yet strangely soft. Although the whole encounter with pretty boy Clint only lasted maybe 15 minutes the exchange of numbers made absolutely certain, in Jo’s mind, that they would in fact see each other again. The only question that seemed to burrow its way into her skull is ‘When?’

She set her hands flanking the laptop. Manuscript creation had always been hard on her mind and storyline even more so. She wanted to introduce the new love interest further, there must be drama. Afterall she was a drama writer and where there is love there drama follows shortly behind. She took a large sip of the tall coffee that stood beside the computer, black like midnight. Through the sourness of the nearly tar-like roast she gained an idea. After a second of mind mapping he began typing once more at an immense pace determined to finish at least another chapter before going home.