CHAPTER 6: EGGS

I didn’t know when it would be appropriate to tell Jade about the trip, or how I’d even approach it when the time came, but since it was a month away, I figured I could sit on it for at least a few weeks.

During that time, Jade moved the rest of her stuff in, and decorated most of the brownstone in her image.

She added a ton of greenery to the living room area, changed the kitchen to a more rustic design, and converted our bedroom into a gothic paradise; painting the walls a deep red, and covering them in black and gold picture frames. She changed the bedspread to black satin, added a black velvet headboard, and bought a medieval chandelier to hang over it all.

Personally, it felt like sleeping in a haunted house, but it made her feel comfortable, as the night terrors stopped shortly after her renovations, so that’s all that mattered to me. It also helped that the name “Madison” wasn’t brought up a single time during the entire decorating process.

We texted each other here and there, but of course Jade wasn’t aware of that. Part of me felt like I was cheating, but at the same time, I knew I’d bring her up eventually once it came time to discuss the trip, so in that sense, I wasn’t reallyhiding anything. Or so I told myself.

With Madison temporarily out of the picture, and Jade’s sleep pattern back to normal, I tried once again to work on my book.

The deadline was fast approaching, and thanks to a resurgence in sales after the success of Ava Kills, Emma landed me a book signing event at Strand, which was a pretty big deal. There was gonna be a Q&A portion as well, and I knew I’d probably get asked about my next project. I wanted to come up with something tangible before the event, so I could have more to talk about. The timing couldn’t have been worse, though, because the signing was slated for the same day I was set to return from Paris.

The trip was less than two weeks away, and I knew I wouldn’t write a single word while I was there, so spent the bulk of my alone time laying on the couch in my office and staring at the ceiling as I had done so many times before, trying to awaken the creative part of my brain that had been dormant for months - since I met Jade.

I didn’t wanna be one of those artists that thrived on pain and suffering, but the evidence was indisputable.

I wrote Sanguinary Lust when I was at my lowest. No woman, no money, no stability, no direction, no place of my own. A tortured, lost soul, sharing a shitty apartment, and turning to the only thing he was good at, as a means to temporarily escape the depressing reality of his life.

In other words, I had all the necessary ingredients for a creative burst. Angst, frustration, an abundance of free time thanks to a nonexistent sex and social life - it was the perfect storm. Never underestimate the hunger of a starving artist. They’re responsible for some of the greatest works in human history.

Unfortunately for the creative in me, I wasn’t hungry anymore.

I was living in a Greenwich Village brownstone, financially secure, having sex daily with the woman of my dreams, and prepping for a trip to Paris with the world’s most famous supermodel. I wasn’t exactly suffering, but that didn’t stop the insecure and self-destructive train wreck in me from trying to believe otherwise.

I thought about Jade’s night terrors. How scary they were to watch, and how helpless I felt as I watched. I thought about the alleged cause of them. And that alleged cause’s birthday bash. And the mystery man Jade spoke to at that bash. And how I never got an answer for that. And how the day I told Jade I loved her, she didn’t say it back. And still hadn’t said it to me.

I thought about the negative reviews for Sanguinary Lust I read on social media, including one where someone with an anime character as their profile picture said the movie was better, and that my book “made no sense.” I remembered losing my shit, because you almost never hear someone say a film was better than the book it came from.

I made a burner account and angrily replied to the person, only to get ratio’d by more anime characters. The fringes of the internet had spoken, and Ava Kills was the clear favorite.

I tried. I tried very hard to make myself angry. To go back in time to my darkest, most pathetic moments, dwell in my deepest insecurities, and resurrect the guy who got me here. It didn’t take.

In an hour, Jade would come home from work, we’d have a gourmet dinner, she would sit on my face for dessert, and we’d fall asleep together in a fancy apartment in an upscale neighborhood that most people would commit heinous acts to live in. That was my reality. I had everything anyone could ever want, and I would have to create something inspired under those conditions.

As I continued unsuccessfully to dig deep within myself and find a new creative power source, the doorbell rang. I made my way downstairs, looked through the peephole, and nearly fainted.

It was Madison. Wearing a tight black dress and holding a cake box.

I opened the door slowly, my body suddenly numb.

“Hey!”

“Uh…hi.”

“I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d surprise you with these! Some macaroons I made!”

“Oh…wow…thanks…that’s uhh…yeah…thanks…”

“I’m sorry, is this a bad time?”

“What? No, no. I just…I mean you could’ve texted, haha.”

“Then it wouldn’t have been a surprise…”

With her heels on, she was now over a foot taller than me. She looked right over my head and stared inside the apartment.

“Gonna invite me in?,” she continued.

“Oh, yeah, of course, come in, come in,” I assured her nervously, as I checked behind her to make sure no paps - or Jade - had followed her here before slamming the door in a panic.

She walked into the kitchen and put the cake box down on the island.

“Wow, this place looks amazing! Let me guess - the missus?”

“Yeah, haha. Pretty much all her.”

“I knew it. Usually how it goes. Well, she’s got good taste, clearly.”

“Ha. I’d like to think so. So, what are you do—

“Are you gonna give me the grand tour?”

“Oh. Yeah. Well, there’s this…”

“Can we go upstairs?”

I took a second to bask in the moment.

It wasn’t every day that a supermodel showed up to my house late at night in a little black dress and asked to go upstairs. I knew she was quite literally just asking to check out the upstairs, but it didn’t matter. Hot is hot.

“Absolutely.”

She led the way like she owned the place, and I followed her long legs up the stairs to my office.

“Wow! So there it is,” she exclaimed, looking at the poster of Sanguinary Lust.

“Yep. That’s my baby. It’s why I’m here.”

“Amazing. Ever think of where you’d be without it?”

“All the time. Nowhere good, that’s for sure, haha. I was in a bad way when I wrote it. You ever think of what your life would be like if you weren’t a model?”

“And still living in Nebraska? Ugh. I mean I love it, don’t get me wrong, but…yeah…”

She walked out of my office and made her way to the bedroom.

“Haha, oh my god! This is like, Dracula’s bedroom or something!”

“Ha. Yeah…it’s pretty freaky.”

She threw herself on the bed.

“How freaky?,” she asked playfully, as she dangled her head off the edge and kicked her long legs in the air.

“Just kidding, haha.”

Once again, I needed a moment.

It wouldn’t last very long, because the second Madison got up to check out the bathroom, I heard the front door open and a familiar voice call out.

“Babe, did you buy a Bentley today? Cuz there’s one parked right in front of the house.”

I rushed down to meet Jade and explain myself as best I could given the circumstances, and startled her with the speed at which I flew down the stairs.

“Whoa, is the house on fire? What’s going on?”

“No, look, listen…Madison came over, and she—

“What.”

“She’s upstairs and she—

“How does she know where we live?”

“Okay, so—

“Hey hey!,” came Madison’s bubbly voice from the top of the stairs. The same fake, overly-excited voice she used when we first met.

“What are you doing here?”

“Oh! Well I was just in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by and surprise you guys with some treats.”

“Just in the neighborhood and dressed to go clubbing?”

“Ha. Well I’m meeting up with some friends later.”

“Please get out. Get out of our house.”

“Jade, come on, she wasn’t—

“No it’s cool, I get it. I’m sorry. I should’ve called ahead. It’s just, Diego said you were cool with me so I didn’t think it was a big deal, but—

“He said what?”

“Yeah. When we met up for coffee a few weeks ago.”

“When you did what?”

“Hey, yeah, so, I do think you should probably go now. I’m sorry.”

“No, no, don’t apologize. It’s cool. It’s my fault. I’m sorry. I hope we’re still on for Paris. And please, tell me what you think of the macaroons. Especially you, Jade. You have great taste. I love how you decorated the—

“Out.”

“Right. Sorry again you guys. Take care.”

Madison scurried out of the house like Jade had caught us fucking, and Jade gave me a death stare that convinced me she actually did.

I closed the door slowly, hoping to delay my murder for as long as possible.

“What. The. Fuck.”

“Look, it’s a long story, but—

“Our house? Our fucking house, dude?”

“I know. She just showed up! That wasn’t me. I—

“That wasn’t you? How the fuck does she know where we live? She come here often? She come here when I’m working?”

“No, I swear to god, this is the first time. Please, you have to believe me.”

“Why the fuck should I believe you?”

“I know. I know. I fucked up. But—

“And what the fuck is this about Paris?!”

“She invited us to Paris on the 25th”

Jade laughed maniacally.

“Hahaha! Us? She invited us? Hahaha. Oh my fucking god.”

“She did. Both of us. And…I kinda wanna go.”

“Are you high? Are you fucking…did she drug you? Are you on drugs right now?”

“No, I’m not. Why? You have any drugs on you? Maybe you got some from that guy in the Hamptons.”

I don’t know what compelled me to make matters worse. I guess because it felt like I was being accused of cheating, or at the very least, hiding something - which, I was - but she was hiding something too, and I figured if I was ever gonna get past that, we had to address it.

“What the fuck? What guy in the Hamptons?”

“The guy you were talking to when I went to the bathroom.”

“Oh so now you’re spying on me? Did you really go to the bathroom, or did you hide behind one of those tacky topiary shrubs?”

“Madison posted a video from the party and you were in the background, talking to some dude. Who was he?”

“Some guy came up to me when you left and tried to talk to me and I wasn’t having it. Why, what did the video show? Did it catch him sneaking into this house while you were gone?”

“Look, I fucked up, okay. I’m sorry. But I’m doing this for us.”

More maniacal laughter.

“Hahaha Jesus Christ you really are high.”

“Madison is fucking huge, okay? She is. You can hate her or whatever, but that’s a fact. You know what I could do for us if I play this right?”

“What is it you want?”

“I could change the world.”

“Change the world? Do you hear yourself?”

“She’s speaking at the UN in September. She has connections I wouldn’t make in ten lifetimes. I’m a writer who - at the moment - can’t fucking write. But I can pivot. I can use her connections to do more with my life than what I’m doing right now.”

“When is it enough, dude? Seriously?”

“What do you mean?”

“What is it you don’t have? Aside from Madison.”

“Aside from Madi—are you serious?”

“I come home, I find you and her alone. You’re telling me you wanna ‘change the world’. You’re hoping to find the meaning of life in her pussy?”

“I’m not talking about this anymore. I’m sorry for not telling you about her earlier. I didn’t wanna fuck you up with the night terrors and shit. She wanted to meet up for coffee, I didn’t know how to tell you. She invited us to Paris, I didn’t know how to tell you. She came over unannounced, for the first time ever today, there was no way I could’ve told you. I didn’t fuck her. I would never fuck her. I know this looks bad. I know I look like a liar. I know you have no reason to believe me. But you have to fucking believe me. I swear to god, nothing is going on between us.”

“I need time to think about this.”

My heart sank in my chest.

“Think about what? About us?”

“I just need to think.”

“Fine. Think.”

I left her with her thoughts and went back upstairs to take a shower. I kept the lights off and meditated as the warm water rolled down my body in the darkness.

I wondered if this was it. If this was how it all ended. With my girlfriend catching me at home with my plutonic supermodel friend, assumed I cheated, and moved out of my house just as quickly as she moved in. It would be a really lame ending. If only I had actually done what she believed I did, then at least I’d have some sort of parting gift.

After the shower, I went back downstairs to find Jade surprisingly munching on the macaroons Madison left.

“Goddamn they’re good,” she admitted, defeated.

“Really?”

“Unfortunately. Little Miss Perfect is good at this, too, I guess. Not enough she’s famous and beautiful.”

I picked up a pink one from the assorted colors in the box and bit into it. Goddamn. They were good.

“I mean, I’ll tell you they suck, if you want me to.”

Jade let out a small chuckle.

“Fuck you.”

“I don’t know if she’s so perfect…”

“And why is that?”

“Well, she walked around her birthday party with your pussy juice on her hands, and you just threw her out of our house. If she’s perfect, what does that make you?”

“Ha. Great point. I guess I’m two-and-oh against her. So far.”

“You match up well against her. She doesn’t stand a chance.”

She smiled momentarily, then went back to eating with a melancholic expression. We looked at each other without saying a word. Eating one macaroon after another, never breaking eye contact.

“What are we gonna do?,” I asked, breaking the awkward silence.

“Tonight? Go to sleep. Tomorrow? I don’t know.”

“Deal.”

We made our way upstairs, holding hands the entire trip, and got ready for bed.

I went to bathroom, and noticed something in the hamper that I didn’t see before when the lights were off: a pair of panties that definitely didn’t belong to Jade.

They were smaller than hers, purple lace, and they weren’t there this morning. I picked them up immediately and frantically hid them in the cabinet underneath the sink like I was hiding evidence from a murder scene - but not before giving them a quick whiff.

Toasted marshmallows. Definitely not Jade’s.

I crawled into bed, stunned, trying to wear my best poker face.

Jade sighed.

“Look. If you wanna go to Paris…we can go to Paris.”

“Really? Why? What changed your mind?”

“I don’t know. But don’t question it, or maybe I’ll change it again.”

“Wow. Okay. Awesome. I mean…if you really want to. We don’t have to—

“Sweet Boy. Shut up. Get some sleep.”

“Copy.”

She rolled to her side, and I sent a text to Madison.

“Looks like we’re still on for Paris! And the macaroons were awesome. Jade liked them too.”

“Aww yeah! We’re gonna crush it in Paris! And I’m so happy you liked the macs! Speaking of treats…I left you another one upstairs…”

I didn’t really have time to process the fact that I now knew what the pussy of the most famous pretty face in the world smelled like, or that she was lightly sexting with me after the fact - I was anxiously awaiting to see if Jade would have another night terror, especially given the level of drama we just experienced.

Nothing ever came.