The Good Ones Go

Chelsea holds her breath as the seamstresses works on her frantically. She is at her last dress fitting, and the wedding is in a month, which means that she has to stay exactly this size for the next 30 days if she wants to fit her luxurious gown. She glances at her Bulova watch on her wrist and dials her office number. When she hears Federico, her fellow co-worker, answer instead of her boss, Goltsiker, she lets a wide smile grow on her face.

"Rico! Hey!" Chelsea says very relieved.

"Hey, Chels, what's up?" he asks pulling his pen out of his breast pocket and clicking it absentmindedly.

"I need you to do the paperwork for my 1 o' clock, I'm not gonna have time," she tells him crossing her fingers in hope that he would say yes.

"Chelsea, it's 9:30, where the hell are you gonna be for the next 3 hours?" he asks rolling his eyes and glancing at his own stack of papers that he was just about to tackle.

"I'm at my dress fitting, Rico! Pretty please, I'll owe you if you do this for me," she begs wanting to confirm and finalize all her orders today instead of heading straight to John Hopkins.

"Alright, Chels, but I get an invite to the bachelorette party," he says with a grin on his face.

"Fine, you're such a dog. Just have the papers on my desk by noon, please," she agrees, laughing lightly at his response.

"Yes, m'am."

"Bye Rico," Chelsea says before hanging up. She lets out a sigh and looks over to the seamstresses who have walked away and left her there all alone.

All alone.

She's getting married in a month, yet she feels so alone.

Chelsea shakes off the loneliness and takes a moment to admire herself in the mirror; as soon as she feels the tears welling up in her eyes she yells, "can I take this off now!?" She doesn't want to break down in public. The ladies that worked on her rush over to help her, and within 15 minutes she's all composed, dressed, and out of the boutique, ready to get some final wedding planning done.

She only takes a couple of steps away from the dress shop before her phone rings. She forgot to put it on silent so that familiar T-Mobile jingle makes her think of Jessica and images of her past come rushing back before she pushes them away. Chelsea fishes for the cell in her purse and rolls her eyes when she sees who's calling, but she picks up anyway.

"What?" she asks. Her one word response is laced with annoyance.

Travis lets out a sigh on the other end and ignores Chelsea's new attitude. "What time are we checking out the cake today?" he asks her knowing she still needs his help even if she's letting her anger and her hormones get the best of her.

"We're not, Adam is gonna go with me," she tells him on her way to the local bakery around the corner for a nice cup of coffee to alleviate her headache. Chelsea is still mad at him for chasing Cole away months ago at her engagement party, and she doesn't want him helping her anymore because what he thinks is help these days is actually destructive. She has broken to pieces in mere months, and in the back of her mind she thinks it's because she's pushed Travis away.

"Chels, stop being so fucking stubborn," he yells into the phone, and she rolls her eyes at him again like he could see her do it. Just as she's about to tell him to fuck off her heart flutters, and she can't seem to find the words as she spots Colson walking in her direction.

Chelsea stops in her tracks and stares wondering if he sees her too.

"Chelsea? Chelsea!" she hears Travis calling her from the other line, but she's not registering anything anymore.

"I gotta go, Trav," she tells him hanging up and letting her arm go limp before forcing her legs to keep walking toward Cole. As she gets closer to him she sees his glance flutter her way, and it makes her breath catch in her throat.

When she catches his eye Colson lets a smile grow on his face and sees her blush in response to it. He stops right in front of her, and she stares up at him quietly biting down on her lip.

"Hey, Chels," he says. His hands are placed awkwardly in his pockets, as usual.

"Hey, how've you been?" she asks so close that if she were to reach out with her arm she could wrap it around him for a hug.

"Good, good. I was actually just about to get some food," he says rubbing his stomach.

She nods, "yea, well, it was good to see you." So many thoughts are swimming through her mind that she doesn't know how she'll make it through the rest of the day.

"Yea, hey, you got some time to come with? My treat?" he asks secretly crossing his fingers behind his back.

She knows it's probably not a good idea to spend any time with Colson, but she can't help herself - she's drawn to him. Chelsea gives him a slight nod and he smiles at her, proud that he could convince her with little effort. He throws his arm around her waist, and they head to the cozy diner across the street.

Once they're seated and have made their order, they focus their attention on each other wishing they had something else to divert it to. Chelsea is sitting up straight - tense as can be - slowly sipping the ice cold water out of her straw while Colson is leaning back with hands in his lap watching her intently. Getting uncomfortable under his gaze Chelsea clears her throat and strikes up a conversation.

"So how have you been since I've last seen you? Been up to anything new?" she asks. Her hands are seriously clammy for the first time in her life, and she feels as if she might pass out any moment.

"Never anything new, same old shit as always, Chels, you know my life," he says sticking a toothpick between his teeth. He doesn't know how to act around her or how to feel.

Chelsea takes a moment to enjoy they way her name rolls off his tongue. She nods gently before saying, "what about Casie?"

"What about her?" Colson doesn't know if he wants to continue down the road this conversation is heading. He didn't really know what to expect when he invited her, but suddenly he regrets it because he doesn't want to fight.

Chelsea hesitates before saying, "how did that happen?" Did she really want to know?

He shrugs, "fucked one of Slim's old girls. Not gonna lie, he almost killed me when he found out." He speaks about it so casually, as if he's indifferent about having children with other women. His flippant attitude hits a chord within Chelsea, but she ignores it for the sake of their meal.

"Well, she's beautiful," Chelsea admits. She toys with the hashbrowns on her plate because she doesn't know what to say. This is getting awkward fast.

"Thanks," he says taking the first bite out of his everything omelet covered in hot sauce.

Chelsea nibbles on a piece of her buttered wheat toast. As she watches Cole eat the butterflies go wild in her stomach.

"So, what about you? How's everything going, Ms. Doctor? Not married yet?" he asks trying to hide the fact that his stomach is doing flips.

"Nope, that's next month," she says not letting off any emotion. This wedding feels like more of a hassle than anything else.

"How do you feel about it?" Cole is trying to pry because he thinks that deep down she doesn't want this.

She shrugs, "how am I supposed to feel? I'm good." That's politically correct answer: vague and pretty.

It's silent between the pair as they eat their meals. They revel in their hunger because it lets them take the attention off one another and direct it onto their food. Eventually Colson opens his mouth again, unable to stay quiet for long.

"Yea, well if you ask me, he's not really your type," Colson states finishing his last bite. He wishes he had said this right away because now she would know that he had been thinking about it the whole time.

Chelsea roles her eyes suddenly annoyed with him. "Yea, and you know my type so well," she says. He's not being fair.

"I do. I've known you since you could do The Hokey Pokey, Chels. I know your type," he tells her grabbing the last piece of toast left on Chelsea's plate. She wanted to smile at that, but she the words that are coming out of his mouth are stopping her.

"Yea? What is my type then? Someone that’s walks all over me?" she asks still slightly bitter about the way he treated her.

He shakes his head at her in disbelief. "Don't marry him, Chelsea," he almost begs, but to Chelsea it sounds more like a demand.

"Yea, and who the fuck are you to tell me what to do, Colson?!" she shouts loud enough that some heads turn their way.

"You know who I am better than anyone else in this piece of shit world, and I'm fucking trying," he tells her with the most serious look she'd ever seen on his face. He has been so depressed since she left, and even these awkward, angry moments are a kind of salvation to him.

For a moment she had been tempted to walk over to his side of the table and wrap him up in a warm embrace, but she won’t. "Fuck you, Colson, I don't owe you shit," she says, getting up, throwing her napkin on the table, and walking out so easily.

He gets up to run after her, throwing a few bills on their table. When he walks out, she's no where to be seen. He wants nothing more than to chase her right now, to run after her and show her that he loves her, but he has no idea which way she went. That was his second chance to go get her, and he blew it.

He grunts and squeezes his hand into a fist, angry that she just got up and left again, angry that she wouldn’t give him another chance. Couldn't she tell that her leaving changed him? He wants her back, he wants to talk things out and work on their problems, but most of all he wants her to tell that poor fool she's playing doctor with the truth: that her heart belongs with him and only him, and that would never change, married or not.

"Fuck!" he yells kicking the wall of the diner. He sighs and turns around deciding to just head back home. Maybe Chelsea would come to her senses and call him - he misses her, he misses her so much.



Travis sighs as he waits for the elevator doors to open. Chelsea isn't talking to him so he's going to hang out with Adam. Adam doesn't know anything unusual is going on between the pair, but that's because he'd probably (and rightfully) flip if he knew that Chelsea was mad that Travis chased her ex-boyfriend away. Travis intends to keep it that way - Adam doesn't need to know - but he still needs some company.

When the doors of the elevator finally opened he steps out quietly, listening to the light voices down the hall. Travis makes his way toward Adam's apartment peeking behind a corner to see that the noise is coming from his doorway. Surprisingly, Adam is standing in his boxers and before him is the wedding planner batting her eyelashes and laughing.

Travis watches with squinted eyes as she leans over to give him a hug and a kiss on the cheek, leaving a mark of her brilliantly red lipstick on his face. She says goodbye and turns to walk back toward the elevator. How long had she been there? What had they done? His eyes squeeze shut as he leans his back against the wall. He hears Adam's door close and composes himself pretending as if he was walking the way she's coming from.

When she passe him he could smell the strong floral perfume she's wearing. Surely she recognizes him from all the times he came in with Chelsea. If she did, she doesn't say anything, she simply gives him a wide smile and a wink as she continues down the hall. Travis stands there for a few moments wondering what to do about what he had just witnessed. He listens to the elevator door open and close and lets out a sigh. Walking back to the elevator himself, he pushes the button with the downward arrow: he knows what he has to do.



Knock, knock: his knuckles gently thump on the wooden oak door. "Chelsea! Come get the door!" he yells letting his hand tumble back down to his side. Travis waits for her. He knows she's home because he hears her scrambling around inside, but the door is still closed, and he's still on the wrong side of it.

"Chelsea!" his fists pound on it again wishing she would suck it up and just let him in. "Please, Chels -" he begins another round of pounding, but it's cut short when the door goes flying open.

"Smell this," she commands holding up a black dress shirt looking like a wreck.

Travis obeys and leans in letting his nose lightly touch the collar of the shirt and getting a good whiff of the expensive smelling perfume; didn’t he just smell that somewhere?

"Smells good," he says casually walking in and closing the door behind him.

"What it smells like is Clive Christian No. 1. FOR WOMEN," she says clutching the shirt like it's her baby.

"So what?" Travis looks at her as lost as a puppy.

"This is Adam's shirt, and that's not my perfume," she says.

"Are you sure? Women have so many of those that you lose track of which one you use sometimes," he says flippantly. He had come here to tell Chelsea exactly what she was thinking, but now that he sees how easily it can break her, he has second thoughts.

"Yes, I'm sure! I don’t have $900 to blow on perfume, Travis," Chelsea shouts before letting her body drop down on the couch. "Do you think he's cheating on me?" Chelsea asks with a long drawn out sigh.

Travis wants to say no but his mind fills with flashbacks of moments earlier when he was at Adam's apartment. That woman, and that perfume she was wearing. That was it, the perfume on that shirt! It was her's!

"I knew it," Chelsea sighs when Travis says nothing back. "I didn't know that we paid wedding planners to fuck up our weddings too," she says balling up the shirt and throwing it on the ground.

"Chelsea, you don’t know that," he tells her pulling his sweater off and sitting down next to her.

"You just admitted it!" She shouts back.

"No, I didn’t! I didn't say anything because I don’t know," he says pulling her closer and rubbing her shoulders. He misses this - the closeness.

"What am I doing, Travis?" she sighs and throws her head back.

"What do you mean?" he asks furrowing his brows in confusion.

"I've been trying so hard to let go of everything and enjoy being with Adam, but now it's like my life is going back in time," she says on the verge of tears.

"Adam's not cheating, Chels, have some faith," Travis tells her. He's sure that what he saw was nothing more than friendly. People that see the two of them could easily get the wrong idea too.

"I hope so," she almost prays closing her eyes. She wants to tell him she saw Colson today, but she decides it's a bad idea.

'Me too,' Travis thinks to himself. God, Chelsea's a fucking wreck, and she refuses to let him back in. When is she going to realize that she can't keep doing this by herself? There's no way he could tell her what he saw now, she would blow it out of proportion.

Chelsea untangles herself from his grasp and walks into her bathroom. He listens to the water running in the sink for a while before he goes after her. She's staring at herself in the mirror with those sad, sad eyes. Travis sighs and pulls a little joint out of his pocket. He lights it and takes another hit before passing it to Chelsea. By then she's laying in the empty bathtub. She reaches up for the weed and puts it to her lips, closing her eyes as she inhales. When she's had enough she looks up at Travis and hands it to him, watching as he takes the last few hits before flushing the roach down the toilet.

They listen to Chelsea's phone ring in the living room, but neither bothers to move, wanting to get away from the world for this one night.

Travis throws a towel on the ground and sits down on it leaning his back on the tub. The bathroom is silent aside from the occasional 'meows' that come through the vents from her upstairs neighbor. The ticking of the grandfather clock from the other room takes away some pain every second and lulls them to sleep. They might wake up sore tomorrow morning, but now they were comfortable. They are happy - something they had been missing for a while - and that's worth a few sore muscles.

Maybe that's why things burned. Because we sacrifice soreness for a little happiness. Because we cheat, and we get high to chase away the pain. Because we try to forget what can't be forgotten. Because we love those that shouldn't be loved.

No matter what Chelsea does, her life seems to go up in flames. She doesn't care now, but she would care in the morning. The morning is a long way from now though, and now is a moment too good to pass up. She run her hand through Travis' hair and let it fall back into her lap. He turns his head to give her a smile, and she smiles back listening to the ticking of the clock. She should get some sleep, it's only a matter of time before things burst into flames again.