We got drama up in here, Andy is FEISTY

The street was disturbingly quiet the next day, and Andy realised it was because the two houses he interacted with the most were dead silent. He didn't catch a sigh of Remington, David, or Frankie for the whole day. 

His phone rang in the early evening, as he was making dinner, and he assumed it would be someone from his new record label, but the number came up as unknown. After a moment's hesitation, he answered, and immediately, the voice coming through the speaker was one he had tried tirelessly to rid from his mind. 

"This is your big plan, is it Andrew?" They were saying accusingly. "Fuck up our lives and run away to England? Oh, what a big man you are. I bet you feel really proud of yourself right now. Well fucking done!" 

"I blocked your number," Andy said, and though it wasn't a question, it was meant as one. 

"You don't think I know people who were your friends? I'm not a hermit crab, for god's sake. Now skip the I'm so sorry bullshit and tell me what the hell gives you the fucking right to do this." 

"Go away, Chris. I'll just block this number, too." 

"That's right. Coward. Talk!" 

"What the fuck do you want me to say that I haven't already? Sorry your husband preferred sex with me that you? Sorry he actually got hard when I was touching him?" The truth was, Andy was sorry, and he hated what he had done, but saying that to the husband of the man he'd had an affair with was so far out of the question that it was almost funny. Besides, it wasn't his fault entirely that they'd ended up getting a divorce. Affair or not, anyone could have predicted it a mile off. He merely sped up the process. 

Chris audibly scoffed down the phone. "You have some nerve, Andrew! After everything you've done, I at least expect you to feel fucking bad about it! We got a divorce!" 

"Oh, boo hoo, poor Chris, now you have to watch Star Wars by your self. That reminds me, did you know Rio doesn't even like Star Wars?" 

"How the fuck would you-" 

Andy laughed, his phone on the counter while he pushed two fillets of salmon around a frying pan. "Jealousy is not good on you, Christopher." The calmness to his voice was a front, and one he had perfected since fleeing the scene of his crime. He had decided, as he waited in the airport for the flight to England, that he'd become a man who was proud of his actions rather than a man who was ashamed. It was easy to get what you wanted out of people who were ashamed, and he refused to give Chris what he wanted, which was an explanation as to why he did it. He'd carry his shame to his grave.

Mostly because he didn't have a reason as to why he did it, he just got bored of his boyfriend and decided married men were more fun. 

"You've had plenty of fucking time to come up with an excuse while you've been fucking about in England, so come on. Give me the fucking excuse, Andrew!" 

"It's not like you can teleport through the phone and threaten me with a knife, is it?" Andy laughed, flipping the salmon over. In a mocking tone, he added, "Oooh, I'm so scared, Christopher the marriage counsellor is getting angry. Oooohhhhhh." Another laugh. "You know, I always found such wonderful irony in that. You're literally a pissing marriage counsellor, and you couldn't save your own sad husband from me. What a pathetic little life you live, my friend." 

"I am not your friend." 

"If you were, things would have gone a lot better for you. Just sayin'. I'm gonna hang up now, I have better things to do than hashing up the past with old friends." 

"You have nothing better to do, Andrew. You have nothing. You destroyed every single friendship and relationship you had here. We both know that's why you got on a plane, don't we? Not because you like England, or because it can offer things America can't. It's because you're a coward who turns everyone you touch against you. Fucking disgusting." 

"I moved here, Christopher, because I got a record label offer. Get off your high fucking horse before you give yourself an erection riding on it." Laughing at his own joke was perhaps the lowest form of self-indulgence, but he did it anyway, and continued. "You called me, so don't act like you don't wanna talk to me. Clearly, you do. I wonder why that is? You know, your husband - sorry, ex husband - always said I have a very attractive voice. I mean, I wouldn't blame you for calling to just hear it one last time. You can stroke one off while I ramble if you want, I won't hold it against you. It's about the only thing you have left, isn't it? Your floppy little cock." 

"You listen here-" 

"I'm not gonna be scared of you just because you happen to be ten years older than me. You're a marriage counsellor, not a fucking Jedi. Calm down." 

"Don't tell me to calm down!" 

"Aren't counsellors supposed to be calm? Isn't that, like, your whole thing? Or do you yell at your patients too. They're all, my wife cheated on me with her younger and much hotter best friend, and now I'm all alone. And you go, SHUT THE FUCK UP, NO ONE CARES, COWARD. Ha." 

"Stop playing around, Andrew-" 

"Whatever you wanna call it, Chris-" 

"Christopher." 

"Fine. Whatever you wanna call, Your Highness, I'm the one living in a gorgeous English Victorian mansion in the countryside with waterfalls for a backyard, not you. Last I checked, you're living next door to a dumpster, so go figure, you fucking cunt." 

"Did you just-" 

"Call you a cunt? Yeah. Actually, it's, like, a really popular insult over here. It actually means a woman's fanny, I don't know if you knew that, since apparently, you know very little. You know, since you're a marriage counsellor who just got divorced. God, that'll never not make me laugh. Fucking stupid little cunt. Anyway, I'm going now. Thanks for the chat, I really enjoyed it. Tell your ex hello from me. Actually, don't bother. Maybe I'll call him and tell him myself." A smug smile plastered his words with unpleasant satisfaction. 

Chris growled, "Don't you dare." 

"Have a fantastic day, sweetie. It's been great. I really missed your lovely voice." Then, hanging up, Andy turned off the stove and served himself the food, realising quickly that pissing off the man who drove him away in the first place was perhaps not the smartest way to go about it. 

Still, it was done now, and whatever happened, he wasn't the one with a divorce hanging over his head. 

Only, he completely was. He had Christopher and Rio's divorce hanging over his head. Forever.