InsaneJournal

Who: Marissa and Otto
What: Sigh
Where: Otto's apartment
When: Tonight



When her mother had insisted to her that she help out with the wedding even though she knew that she was about as feminine as a bag of rocks, Marissa had been hesitant to say yes -- but she’d pressed so readily that she hadn’t really been able to say no. Now that things were in full swing, she understood exactly why her mother had insisted -- she was so busy with things that she hadn’t even thought of when it came to the wedding that she could barely find a moment to take a breath and make sure she didn’t eat so many chicken wings that she had to expand the size of her dress magically again.

One of the things that had caught her most by surprise was receiving the last of the RSVP notes. Liz had spoken to her - hilariously awkwardly - about bringing Otto Bagman, of all the people on the planet, to her wedding. It had been admittedly strange on her end as well as Liz’s, but she’d decided a long time ago that she wasn’t going to hold her being a terrible person against Otto, and she certainly wasn’t going to hold it against Liz. Liz had been good to her, all things considered.

When she’d received Liz’s note with no ‘plus one’ scrawled across it in the blonde woman’s familiar writing, an unfamiliar surge of discomfort flowed through her. It was what had spurred her action tonight. It wasn’t incredibly late, but it was a tick or two past nine-thirty -- too late for anyone making a proper house call.

She lifted her hand and took a deep breath in. Merlin, why hadn’t she had the scotch that she’d be planning on before coming to this meeting?

Right, because she was showing up as a surprise at Otto bloody Bagman’s door, and she didn’t want him to think she was after some sort of disgusting drunken throwdown. She wouldn’t judge him if that was still his assumption, though, considering how they’d parted ways.

She knocked firmly, feet planted shoulder-width apart as if that would keep her from running away the moment the door didn’t immediately open.

He certainly had not been expecting company, especially so late, but if anyone were to show up at his door without any warning, it was usually his brother. His hair was still damp from the shower he had taken after getting home from Liz's place, and he had just been about to settle onto his couch when the sound of knocking got his attention. His brows knit together as he padded across his living room to see who it was, habitually looking through the peep hole in case it was some salesperson, or worse, someone trying to sell him religion.

The person he saw instead was honestly the last person he thought would be on the other side of his door.

Did she know this was his door? She had to. Marissa had never been dumb, not even remotely. He hesitated for a moment before he finally turned the knob, opening the door so that he was now face to face with his ex-girlfriend - the one who he hadn't actually been alone in a room with since finding out she was sleeping with his best friend while they were still dating. Their non existent relationship was...complicated, to say the very least - especially since Otto had been guilty of his own infidelities concerning Liz Fortescue; a dear, close friend of the redhead standing before him.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, hoping he came across more curious than wary. She looked determined, but then again, Marissa usually did.

It was only her mental insistence that Otto was probably just rummaging about behind the door that kept her from apparating out on the spot. She wasn’t doing this for herself - okay, she wasn’t completely doing this for herself</i> - so she needed to not be a coward. That was what had gotten her into trouble with Otto in the first place.

Seeing him still made her feel a little flushed and ill with shame - the reason, at least on her end, that they’d rarely been in a room alone. She straightened her shoulders and tried not to come off as more confident than she felt. She rummaged in her bag for a moment and returned from its insides triumphantly clutching an RSVP card from the pile at home.

“I’m here because of this,” she stated, half-awkwardly thrusting the invitation into Otto’s hands so that he could at least see that it had her name on it, as well as Iwan’s -- and Liz’s. She felt some of the frustration she’d been feeling with herself, with this entire situation, with everything that had happened, bubbling to the surface of her mind.

“I don’t care if you hate me,” she blurted, balling up a fist at her side, “And quite frankly, I don’t really blame you if you do. But Liz has had a lot of people jerk her around, and I --” what? She thought maybe Otto would be someone who wouldn’t do that to her, so she wanted to make sure Liz was pushed in the right direction? Something like that.

“And I don’t want something to get all bollocksed up for her because of something stupid that I did, all right?” She took in a shaky breath, fully aware that she was probably flushed and ridiculous looking.

Otto looked down at the piece of paper in his hand, reading over it before looking back up at her, still not completely understanding what this unannounced visit was about until she explained it to him. As though her presence alone wasn't enough of a shock to the system, she was talking about things between him and Liz getting all 'bollocked' because of--

He looked at the invitation again, taking in a breath which was released as a nasal sigh, lifting his eyes to look at her again. He couldn't decide what he felt when he looked at her. Marissa reminded him of so many things, good and bad; both difficult to ignore, even after all this time. Between his recent, uncomfortable reunion with Sturgis and now her showing up at his door like this, Otto was starting to wonder if 1986 was going to throw any more surprises at him.

"If we're going to talk about this, it's not going to be with you standing in the hall."

With that, he opened the door, stepping aside to give her more room to enter if she wanted, Liz's RSVP still in his hand. She couldn't just bring up his relationship with Liz and the 'something stupid' she did so long ago without expecting there to be a few words exchanged.

If she’d still been the same person she used to be, she reasoned, she would’ve just turned on her heel and left as soon as she’d shoved the invitation and rushed apology in his face. That wouldn’t solve anything, though, and she’d realized that through a lot of tough trial-and-error with her own life.

She tried hard not to completely deflate as Otto looked over to her, biting hard enough on the inside of her lip to taste blood. Once he stepped back, she moved inside hurriedly. There, she was inside the apartment and now it would be harder to leave … in theory.

“I was half expecting you to just slam the door in my face,” she reasoned half-heartedly, shoving her hands into the pockets of the casual slacks she’d put on. She willed away the flush of scarlet on her chest and tried to keep from getting too worked up. Her fingers twitched in one pocket, hopeful for a smoke that she’d also told herself she wasn’t going to get until she dealt with this mess a little more completely.

“...I’m glad you didn’t. I mean it, you know. I don’t care if you hate me.” She paused. “I -- hated me for a long time, so. There’s that.”

If he were the same person he used to be, the door very well may have slammed in her face had she confronted him like this. She was there, literally shoving the invitation to her wedding into his hands while talking about how much she hated herself, and how she didn't care if he hated her. Even if he still did, knowing she didn't care would have just added more fuel to the fire.

"I don't hate you," he said after moment, looking up at her, his finger playing with the corner of the invitation. "I did," he continued, "for a really long time. But I'm trying not to. Consider it a late new year's resolution, if you will." He said, looking down at the paper he was still toying with. He chewed thoughtfully at the inside of his cheek before he looked up at her, offering it back to her.

"I told Liz I didn't think it would be a good idea for me to be at your wedding," he explained. "Can you honestly tell me that it wouldn't have been strange, for me to hug you in your wedding dress when we haven't even had a conversation in almost 8 years?" He asked, a brow lifting slightly as he wondered if he was crazy to think that may have been awkward. "I still don't know how to just...be around you. The entire time I've known you I've been either in love with you, or I've hated you. I'm still working on finding a middle ground."

She’d known it was going to be awkward, but at least it would’ve been awkward on her terms. She supposed that it still was on her terms, really -- and that it hadn’t been entirely fair of her to come over here like this. She took the invitation and folded out one of the creases he’d fiddled into it, sighing. She thought of Sturgis telling her how he’d helped out Otto’s brother, how Otto had cornered him at the bar to -- and she was assuming here, since Sturgis had been pretty vague -- try and say thank you.

“The thing is, I don’t want it to be strange. I like Liz, and she’s been through a lot -- and maybe she finally deserves someone like you.” She tried for a half-smile that she was sure came off as awkward. “It’s not just going to go away, this --” she waved a hand between them, “Whatever this is. And I don’t want her to be uncomfortable on my account. I’m trying not to be as selfish. Consider it a late New Years resolution.” She raked a hand through her hair, giving a tug for good measure.

What she wanted to do was explain and excuse away her behaviour, but that didn’t seem fair to Otto. And it wasn’t an excuse, her being screwed up. That had been on her, not on him.

“So I just thought I’d come by to say that -- it’ll be weird, but … I’d really like you to be there. I was too chicken to send you an invitation of your own.” She’d spent so much time growing up with Otto and with Sturgis, this whole situation between them had been an uncomfortable void for too long.

Otto's jaw tightened in reaction her words. On the one hand, she was telling him that she was coming to him in an attempt to look after Liz, who she thought 'deserves someone like him'. What kind of someone was he? He hadn't been enough for Marissa, even though he had tried, but she seemed to think he was the kind of man one of her best friends deserved? As unselfish as she was trying to be, he still felt like if he agreed to her terms, she would be getting exactly what she wanted.

He may not have hated her, but there was something about Marissa coming out on top that rubbed Otto the wrong way. She was making it sound like his relationship with Liz was doomed to fail if they didn't fix things between them, and that wasn't fair. If Liz was uncomfortable with the fact that he had issues with Marissa, and it came down to picking sides, would she choose her friend? Would someone else choose another person over him? He knew she had a point, that this tension between them wouldn't just go away, but he had been bottling up his feelings for almost a decade.

"Why should I care what you'd like...?"

She’d been so very angry for so long, it would be so easy to slip back into it and just lose control of her life again.

She couldn’t do that now, though. She had Iwan, and he put up with so much from her -- she couldn’t ruin something like that. Not again. She dropped the RSVP note despite herself, her hand shaking with the sort of uncontrolled emotion that she hated admitting still lived in her.

“You shouldn’t, I guess. I just wanted it said.” She wouldn’t tell him that she’d invited Sturgis as well, more or less attempted to strong-arm him into going. There didn’t seem to be a point to that. “I’ll -- uh, leave you to it.” She swallowed thickly, turning on her heel to head out toward the door.

Coming here had been a bloody exercise in why she hated facing her mistakes, but at least she’d done it.

Otto watched the paper as it fell from her hand to the floor, looking back up at her as she answered his question, which had been only somewhat rhetorical. He looked away from her again, only lifting his gaze as she was reaching for the doorknob. The door opened and closed, Marissa now standing on the other side, leaving Otto alone to try and process everything. He let out a groan, reaching his hand up to run back and forth through his hair, fingers tugging at it near the back of his neck as he lowered himself down to pick the paper up off the floor.

Marissa MacFusty and Iwan Quigley

He let out a sigh, his focus now on his girlfriend's handwriting. The thought of things ending between them over an unresolved vendetta he had with Marissa was weighing on his mind. Her coming to see him hadn't given him any closure, but that wasn't why she came. She wanted to make sure that their ancient history wasn't going to get in the way of what he had going with Liz. He always knew it was something they couldn't ignore forever, but he hadn't been prepared to deal with it just yet. He didn't think he'd ever be truly prepared, though.

Maybe, despite all the reasons he had to not go to Marissa's wedding, it was time to end the cycle of pettiness. Maybe she was right, though he truly wished the first gathering he was taken to by Liz could have been anything but her wedding.