<(O)>

Angie’s hiding something.

Or, maybe that’s not quite right. Too definitive, it suggests she’s succeeding. And she isn’t - not in any way that matters. She keeps shifting her gaze, and her nails are drumming out the theme to Beverly Hills Cop on the table, and she’s already started speaking and cut herself off three times.

I doubt it's anything serious. Angie has a tendency to work herself up into a panic over any small thing, and then face any serious problem head on and stone faced. No one I’d rather have at my side in a crisis - she can be astonishingly calm, if the situation demands it. Claims she has a limited supply of composure, that she has to store it up, save it for when it's needed. 

So whatever has her so frantic isn’t likely to have any great effect on my life. Or her’s, at that. Still, it can’t do any harm to hear it, and if I know Angie, she’s about to break in three, two, 

“Ok, so I mean, this probably should be a secret, so you shouldn’t tell anyone and honestly neither should I, but I oversaw something - oversaw? Is that a word? It should be. Like, overhearing, you know - the other day and I really need your advice about what I do about it, because it’s not, like, technically my business and also maybe there’s nothing happening at all, so you know I’d have to do, like, actual detectiving to know if I’m right and then that’s even more invasive, whether or not I’m right....”

Good - it isn’t serious. The patented Angie Adams prioritisation system strikes again - the less important a matter is, the more panic you allocate.

“...but at the same time, I feel like I probably have some, I dunno, moral obligation to do something, either way. Do I have a moral obligation? Like, I think I’d wanna know. But obviously, if I’m wrong, then worst case scenario I could completely screw up our friends’ lives for no good reason. And then… well, I’m rambling, sorry. So?”

She looks at me, expectantly. I raise an eyebrow. “Ange.”

“Oh my god, I didn’t even tell you what it was.” She started waving her hands at some point, which is better than all the hand-wringing earlier, but not promising for the future of her coffee - I creep a hand across the table and tug her mug out of reach. Then onto my side of the table. Then pick it up and take a sip - its going cold, and besides, Angie doesn’t seem in need of any more caffeine. Also, she tends to splurge for the more expensive stuff, especially when she’s stressed, and it always tastes so good.

“Alright, so, you know Noel? Aki’s husband. Anyways, I was out last night, and I saw him with this other woman, which, you know, not inherently suspicious on it’s own, even if I was at Rosewood which, you know.” She tilts her head, and I nod. I do know.

“Right. But, whatever, ok, people can be friends, it doesn’t have to mean anything untoward - I mean, look at us, we’ve been to bars together - except that, well, they were very, lets say, tactile? I mean - nothing happened! Nothing conclusive, they didn’t kiss or anything, didn’t even go dance.”

I’ve drained her coffee.

Angie’s still muttering. I take a moment to appreciate that, despite the rather maniacal tone her voice has taken, she’s still together enough to regulate her volume - the last thing we need is to start going around making scenes in cafes.

“I’m not, I’m overreacting. It’s not illegal to go to a bar, there’s nothing wrong with that. It was nothing, it’s probably nothing. They probably weren’t even acting that weirdly, I was just projecting ‘cause, you know, I was there with someone so…”

That, catches my interest. I raise my eyebrows at her.

“3 out of 10, a total bore, I’ll fill you in later. It’s just that, well, he saw me, and…”

I tense. She notices.

“No, nothing happened, nothing like that.” She waves her hands again, dismissive. “No, it’s just, he saw me, and his face went really pale? I mean it’s hard to tell in the light you know - he runs kind of red anyway, and the lights at Rosewood are all hot pink, and also I’d had a few - but he definitely startled, slightly. And then he took his… friend’s? arm, and led her away. That’s suspicious right. Yeah, that’s definitely suspicious. God, I should have followed them, I knew it, I thought it even then but then I’d have had to explain everything and maybe even cut early, and she still seemed - well, I still had hopes for the night, that early on, so…” She flops her head onto her arms, resting on the tabletop. It rocks with the force. I move our mugs onto the empty table behind me.

Her voice is muffled now, spoken more to the cracked wood than to me. “And now, I don’t know what to do, because…”

“Because you think you may have some moral duty to say something, but you don’t know if your concerns are valid, yeah, I got that bit.”

“Yeah.” She looks up. Sighs. “So?”

“So?”

“What do you think?”

I consider for a moment. “I think calling them our friends is a bit of a stretch.”

She swats at my arm. “I’m being serious.”

“So am I. Neither of us really know Noel any better than awkward half nods when we pass on the street. And I can count on one hand the number of times Aki and I have spent more than ten minutes in so much as the same room without you. And one of those times was just us waiting for you. I’m not sure what you want from me here.”

“Just, you know.” She twirls her hand vaguely. “Tell me what to do. Help me steal his phone to check my theory, or convince me to throw caution to the wind and just go ahead and wreck my friend’s marriage, or, hell, drop an anvil on my head so I get a concussion and forget the past week and also maybe my whole life.”

“Is that last one actually an option?”

She swats my arm again, harder, this time.

“Alright, alright.” My hands are up in surrender. She laughs a little. I take the moment to really look at her.

It’s been bothering her, that much I can tell. Probably more because she doesn’t know where to go from here than any real personal investment in Aki’s happiness or future, but still. Her date last night may not have even been that bad, if she’s been this distracted for that long - I almost feel bad for the poor woman.

Angie’s always worked better under pressure. Much as I like making fun of her consistently completely inappropriate intensities reactions to various events - and I do - we both know the real reason she can keep calm in a crisis: she has this habit of overthinking herself into oblivion, and more pressing issues tend not to give you as much time to indulge in that.

I feel bad for her. Angie’s a good person, barring whatever character defects allow her to actually like being friends with me. And if the barrage of texts I woke up to this morning are anything to go by, this, both the matter at hand and her indecision over it, is a genuine dilemma for her, and one she doesn’t know how to deal with. Or, want to have to, ideally.

“You want to be sure before you make any rash decisions, right?”

“Preferably. Also, I don’t know that they’d be rash if I had proof.”

“Whatever. I’d argue that the very act of attempting to find proof would be rash. And you don’t want to risk destroying your friendships.”

“Or my friend’s marriage, which some people might think is more important. Noble, or whatever.”

“Yeah, well I’m not most people. And neither are you. You sure you want to keep Aki in your life?”

She glares.

“Fine. So let me handle it. Stop stressing.”

She looks confused.

“You know, evidence gathering, potential news breaking. All of it. It’s stressing you out, and chances are you’d have needed my help down the line anyway. Besides, you asked me here for a reason, right?”

She doesn’t look convinced, but I’ve known Angie for years, I know her tells. She always tilts her head to one side when she’s considering something, and right now she’s just looking at me head on. She’s already made her decision, she's just waiting for a little more reassurance, to allay her guilt, stop her from feeling like she’s giving up, or pushing me into something against my will.

So, I give it to her. “Hey. I’ll take care of everything, ok. Trust me.”

* * * * * * * *

So Noel’s definitely having an affair.

Maybe more than one, actually, Christ.

He’s not hiding them particularly well, either. Bonus points for using a secondary email I guess, but ‘Password7-11’ negates those almost at once. I suppose the date’s a nice touch, but using your wife’s birthday as a password for an account used solely for spam and infidelity, well… It’s something all right. Bold. Unexpected, and I suppose slightly tougher to break because of it. Though he might just be the type of person to use that one same password for everything. Maybe once I’m done I’ll try breaking into his other accounts, just to see if that’s any harder.

Once I’m done… well, I guess I am, aren’t I. In just, eight tabs and two apps. Conclusive evidence: pictures, conversations, details of various rendezvous. Some images I could have very easily lived a long and happy life having never seen. Three women, I make it, over the past fourteen months. I could, take some screenshots, put it all in a nice powerpoint, and send it all on. Gone, out of my hands, sorted. Taken care of.

I told Angie I’d take care of everything, because I knew sitting with it would make her sad, and if there’s one thing in this world I cannot stand, it’s Angie being sad. She might be the closest thing I have to a Kryptonite. 

But ‘take care of’ is such a vague phrase. I’m not sure we ever quite established what I was agreeing to do. Angie wants Aki’s husband to not be cheating on her - she’s good like that, wants everyone happy - but what really panicked her was bearing the burden of responsibility for the situation, feeling culpable for whatever followed, whether that be stalking a potentially innocent man, or idly sitting by, complicit in Noel’s deception. All I really want, is for Angie to not have to deal with that. I wasn’t being facetious in the cafe, Aki and I really aren’t friends. She doesn’t actually factor into my feelings on the matter.

As it stands, Angie’s now off the hook - she’s trusted me to solve this, so she’s no longer responsible for the matter, whatever its conclusion. And because she knows that this is now officially Somebody Else’s Problem, she no longer has to worry about it. And that means no more sad Angie, so my problem’s solved too. As far as I’m concerned, everything has now been taken care of.

It’s done. I have delivered, and my hands are clean.

Which means…

Well, it’d be a shame to let all those ‘custom animation’ ideas go to waste.

I open up PowerPoint.

Look, cards on the table, I don’t really like Aki that much. I don’t know why Angie does. It’s not anything she’s done, per se, she’s just always rubbed me the wrong way. Angie’d say I think that about a lot of people, and she’s not wrong. But there’s something off, about her. A little too fond of gossip, and a little too honey-sweet when she speaks to the people involved - it’s hard to get a good read on her. Two-tongued. She and Angie aren’t close, anyhow - Angie just has a lot of friends.

That’s not to say she deserves to be cheated on, or anything. No one deserves to be cheated on. It’s just, that I don’t particularly care if she is.

And this also isn’t to say that I like Noel. I don’t. I never knew him enough to form even a vague opinion, and now that I know, frankly, a little more about him than I’ve ever wanted to know about any person, I can confirm that I have upgraded to disliking him.

However, there are some aspects of his, lifestyle, that I do appreciate. The fancy car, the fancy restaurants and outings, the fancy job with I imagine a fancy as hell salary.

And really, everyone was happy two days ago. The best way of keeping everyone happy would be to maintain the state we were all in back then, not upset the apple cart, as the saying goes. Telling Aki would likely do exactly that.

How would I even tell her? We don’t have any sort of relationship - I’d have to initiate a serious conversation levelling some serious accusations, with little to no personal history as a buffer. Noel’s conversations are technically accessible - obviously - but not easily or in most cases legitimately; I’d have to explain why I was even looking. And that would probably drag Angie back into this, more involved than she’d be if Aki came across this information of her own accord. And everything would become long and drawn out, and no one would be that happy by the end of it.

Isn’t that the goal - universal happiness. Contentment, failing that. Ignorance is bliss, and objectively, everyone would be a lot happier if Noel continues to keep his affairs to himself.

Angie and I understand each other. She isn’t going to ask me about this again - she knows I don’t care enough to spend time discussing it, and I know that if she wanted to keep bringing it up, she’d have met with someone else instead. She’s trusting me to take care of this however I see fit, and I know ideally she’d also want reassurance that Aki isn’t being cheated on, but that ship has clearly already sailed. 

Three options, then. I keep this slideshow to myself, for my own amusement, to privately showcase what little photo editing and animation skills I have. I send this to Aki, triggering a chain of events that will be fun for no one, and that I won’t be able to take back. Or, I send it to Noel. 

Just to see how he reacts, you understand. A warning of sorts - nothing wrong with a friendly heads up among the casualest of acquaintances. 

And of course, if he decides to buy my silence, well. Who am I to stifle a young, entrepreneuring spirit.

Hey, what’s the worst that can happen? My life isn’t going to change.

Just need to think of a subject line. Oh, and decide what email address to send it from. And unlike some people, my email passwords actually work. 

I think I’m feeling some sort of all-seeing eye. Punctuation based, of course. 

<(O)>. That’ll do, I guess. Not as obvious as I’d like, but it serves its purpose.

I’ll have to figure out a method of money transfer too, at some point. I should have something still set up from the last time I ran this type of scheme, but it's been a few months since, I’ll need to double check.

Think I’ll let him initiate any talk of monetary matters. Just the eye and the presentation for now.

Click send.

And now we wait for a response.

* * * * * * * *

It took him long enough.

Long enough that I actually figured out who specifically he was with last night. I don’t think she knows she’s the fabled other woman. Even sent her a follow request - not with any real account, but, I figure it can’t hurt to have another pressure point, if dear Noel needs any more convincing. I made sure to get some mutual followers, it shouldn’t be suspicious.

His response is fairly concise. To the point. Who am I, what is this, how dare I, all reasonable questions a person might have. He asks what I want, and whether I’ll keep quiet, and also what I want to keep quiet - not completely witless, then.

Good. 

I drafted my reply whilst I was waiting. Just needs a couple of tweaks; I can leave my demands - ‘wants’, or ‘small favours he may find himself wishing to do for me’ - as is, but I still need to write my sign off. I’d like it to be a little personal, tailored to the message he sent me. It may be a little over the top, but I have always had a bit of a love for the dramatic.

I should wait a few minutes before sending it, though. I haven’t quite decided if I want to create a persona that is ‘always seeing’ as well as ‘all seeing’ - thirteen minutes feels like a comfortable middle ground, for now.

I shoot Angie a quick thumbs up. Just in case she is still stressing, though it’s unlikely.

* * * * * * * *

[email, cont.]

As to what I ultimately want, well. Does any man truly know what that is? To that, you can relate, I’m sure.

It is not in my nature, to keep quiet, you understand. But I’m sure an intelligent man such as yourself could find some way of convincing me. I have provided some suggestions above, should you be in need of ideas.

As for who I am, well. Do any of us know who we truly are? I am just, as always

Your well meaning friend,

<(O)>