Army Of Me
Thorn In My Side
CHARLIE - Tony and I work in silence, most days. We don’t really know each other that much; when I first started he tried to talk to me, tried to make conversation but I was too shy. I still am. He’s stopped now, anyway. We don’t say anything to each other. It’s okay when someone else is here. Like Bruce, or Clint; at least some conversation happens.
But Clint follows Rain out of the room and the metal door bangs shut behind them. The room is immediately plunged into a well known silence. I keep my head down and continue writing out a formula. Tony coughs, I don’t look up.
“Why don’t we ever talk?” He suddenly asks. I jump slightly, but keep my head down.
“I, uh, like to work.” I say, in a quiet voice. Moving my eyes to the top of the page, I can see him look at me out of the corner of my eye. I feel my face going red. Please don’t look at me.
“We’ve been working together for 18 months. We should talk!” He tries again. I know how long we’ve been working together; I’ve been counting. I have nothing to say to this, so I keep my head down.
“You’re shy.” He tells me. I know I am. “Why?” I look up at him at this. I didn’t mean to, but it’s just such a strange question. Why is someone shy? Isn’t that obvious? He catches my eye. His are dark brown. I think this is the first time I’ve actually looked in his eyes. I look down again.
“Shyness is a social psychology term used to describe the feeling of apprehension, lack of comfort or awkwardness, experienced when a person is in proximity to, approaching or being approached by other people, especially in new situations or with-“ I say. He cuts me off.
“Yeah, I know what it is, but why are you shy around me?” I look at the pencil in my hand.
“Hey, c’mon Charlie, you don’t need to be shy!” I look at him again, surprised. He actually knows my name?
“You know my name?” I ask him. He frowns.
“Why wouldn’t I?”I shrug. I don’t really want to explain why I thought he wouldn’t.
“We have to talk, Charlie.”
“No we don’t.” He goes quiet. I feel bad saying this. It’s not that I don’t want to talk to him, I’m just too shy. I have nothing to say. Nothing of importance.
“Tony. I’m sorry. That was rude of me, wasn’t it? I didn’t mean it like that. I just...” I put the pencil down and look at him.
“That’s the longest sentence I’ve ever heard you say.” He says, and laughs a bit. I think this is the first time I’ve seen him laugh with me. Well, laugh because of me... or laugh at a comment he made about me. I’m not exactly laughing. I smile, mentally admitting that it’s true, and then look back at the desk.
“You should talk to me more, yeah?” He asks. I look at him and nod. He beams. He’s got a nice smile. I start working again. So does he; he seems happier about it now, though, but neither of us say anything else, until I tell him I’m going to bed. He wishes me a good sleep, then, after a second, thanks me for talking to him. I thank him for making me talk.
But Clint follows Rain out of the room and the metal door bangs shut behind them. The room is immediately plunged into a well known silence. I keep my head down and continue writing out a formula. Tony coughs, I don’t look up.
“Why don’t we ever talk?” He suddenly asks. I jump slightly, but keep my head down.
“I, uh, like to work.” I say, in a quiet voice. Moving my eyes to the top of the page, I can see him look at me out of the corner of my eye. I feel my face going red. Please don’t look at me.
“We’ve been working together for 18 months. We should talk!” He tries again. I know how long we’ve been working together; I’ve been counting. I have nothing to say to this, so I keep my head down.
“You’re shy.” He tells me. I know I am. “Why?” I look up at him at this. I didn’t mean to, but it’s just such a strange question. Why is someone shy? Isn’t that obvious? He catches my eye. His are dark brown. I think this is the first time I’ve actually looked in his eyes. I look down again.
“Shyness is a social psychology term used to describe the feeling of apprehension, lack of comfort or awkwardness, experienced when a person is in proximity to, approaching or being approached by other people, especially in new situations or with-“ I say. He cuts me off.
“Yeah, I know what it is, but why are you shy around me?” I look at the pencil in my hand.
“Hey, c’mon Charlie, you don’t need to be shy!” I look at him again, surprised. He actually knows my name?
“You know my name?” I ask him. He frowns.
“Why wouldn’t I?”I shrug. I don’t really want to explain why I thought he wouldn’t.
“We have to talk, Charlie.”
“No we don’t.” He goes quiet. I feel bad saying this. It’s not that I don’t want to talk to him, I’m just too shy. I have nothing to say. Nothing of importance.
“Tony. I’m sorry. That was rude of me, wasn’t it? I didn’t mean it like that. I just...” I put the pencil down and look at him.
“That’s the longest sentence I’ve ever heard you say.” He says, and laughs a bit. I think this is the first time I’ve seen him laugh with me. Well, laugh because of me... or laugh at a comment he made about me. I’m not exactly laughing. I smile, mentally admitting that it’s true, and then look back at the desk.
“You should talk to me more, yeah?” He asks. I look at him and nod. He beams. He’s got a nice smile. I start working again. So does he; he seems happier about it now, though, but neither of us say anything else, until I tell him I’m going to bed. He wishes me a good sleep, then, after a second, thanks me for talking to him. I thank him for making me talk.