A Hue of Blu

Year Two/York University – Two Years Ago

I don’t know when I started being good with girls.

A piece of me was still living inside that shy, scared, fickle boy who knew nothing about anything and watched Netflix with his mom on weekends.

Honestly, after I got with Riley things changed. She was the confidence boost I needed to feel like I’d won, like I deserved a trophy after I got off Accutane and sorted out my appearance.

When we got back together, it felt like another reward. I’d saluted a fat ‘fuck you’ to the guy who took her from me and relished in the moments I had with her.

But as time went on, I realized I was waiting for something that would never come. I had the girl, but not really. She was there, but never present. She listened, but never cared. It was something to pass the time, I was something to pass the time.

I’d gone out with Bryce one night after Riley said she was feeling under the weather and couldn’t go to Brixton with me. Bryce, being as introverted as he was, said no at first until I pushed his polo-wearing ass out of the dorm and into a corner booth.

“Two Belgian Moons, please,” I told the waitress, a pretty blonde with a tiny waist.

Her eyes trailed down to my arms, stopping at my tattoos, circling through to my white tee, my silver bracelet, my rings – fucking all of me. All of me.

“What’s the occasion?” Bryce asked, stretching out his arms.

We’d been going to the gym together since first year and he’d become more of a friend to me than Morris, Connor, Danny, hell even my own brothers.

“You hate Riley,” I stated, leaning back against the hardwood. “Tell me why.”

He laughed. “I don’t hate her, man.”

“You’re never around when she’s there.”

“That doesn’t mean I hate her. She’s just not…” Bryce always chose his words carefully. I admired that about him. “She’s not my type of person, that’s all.”

“Okay, but why?” I pried. I needed to know. I needed to hear that she wasn’t good for me anymore. I couldn’t make that decision myself.

He let out a sigh. “Because you’re my type of person, Jace. And I care about what happens to you.”

“So this is about me?”

“Yeah, obviously.”

The drinks arrived on a black tray. The waitress slid both over to me, completely ignoring Bryce’s presence.

“How the hell d’you do it, man?” he gawked, taking one of the beers from my end. “They just flock to you and stare. It’s nuts.”

Never in my life did I picture someone saying that to me. Seeing someone envious of my ability to pull girls without even trying, by just existing, by breathing. It was everything I thought I wanted.

When I was nothing, a shell of someone, a small spec of dust in comparison to all my friends, no one paid a morsel of attention to me. I envisioned this for so long, and now that it was happening, the feeling was surreal.

And yet, I felt an overwhelming urge to grab Bryce and shake him, to tell him he’s as good as they come. That he was smart and helped me through so much shit. He didn’t need the looks to get a wife, he should just be happy with who he was.

But if I wasn’t going to practice what I was preaching, then there was no sense in saying it aloud.

I sipped my beer. “She’s not going to change, is she?”

It was the realization I came to when Riley came back for the second time. When she was lying on my chest, her best friend slumped on the beanbag chair next to us, her fling on the phone begging for her. She loved an audience, she loved being wanted, being watched. I was just a part of her show, a cinematic masterpiece she tried to craft within herself.

I was an actor. A marionette on a string. She controlled me. I never wanted to be controlled again.

“You let her back in.” Bryce took a swig of Belgian, cracking his neck. “She’s probably thinking that no matter what she does next, you’d take her back.”

I shook my head. “I don’t want that.”

“Then don’t have that, dude. Just break up with her.”

“Like, now?”

His eyes trailed one of the bartenders collecting empty cups. My eyes followed. For a second, I wanted to steal her attention, then thought better of it. There were plenty of fish in the sea. People like Bryce deserved them all.

“Jace, she basically dumped you over fucking Snapchat. A call is generous, a text is kindness.”

As much as it pained me to do so, I crafted the message two and a half beers later, read thoroughly by Bryce, and hit send.

10:02pm – Jace: Listen Riley, I can’t do this anymore. I feel like ever since EDC, I’ve been fighting for your attention and it’s not fair to me. I love you, but I’m not waiting around anymore. I hope you feel better.

I blocked her number right after that and accepted the round of tequila Bryce bought me in celebration. It was a weird thing to celebrate, breaking up with someone, closing a chapter that needed to be closed.

There was almost a bittersweet taste to an unhappy ending. Everyone knew it was coming, but was still unprepared. I thought I’d feel great, but I felt worse.

That was the moment that I found out how to be good with girls. When I pushed aside the inebriation with three cups of water and a plate of fries, marching up to the blonde waitress and asking for her number.

Of course she gave it to me, with ease too. Of course she was back in my room every single day for the next week.

Of course it didn’t last, because nothing ever did for me.

But over time, I learned to be everything that everyone wanted. I learned to match the energy of others, to morph into whatever they liked and remained that way until I didn’t need to anymore.

That was the moment I realized how to win people over.

That was also the moment I realized how little of myself I had left, when I was trying to please everyone else.