Hot & Hollow

Callie's beautiful. Can Marcus see through her pride and vanity before it is too late?

Marcus looked around the nightclub, feeling out of place. Jack and he were friends since school and played rugby together. They were very different people. The nightclub was where Jack hunted successfully for his one-night stands. Marcus did not share his enthusiasm for cheap conquest and didn’t like the women who came here. The ones he could hear over the noise seemed shallow. Anyway, the routine was established in their late teens and they were here each Saturday and then in church Sunday morning, even though Jack was an atheist. He went because he liked the women and made them laugh, though none considered him boyfriend material. Marcus was the man the church girls liked, but Jack was the bad boy who always got the girl in the nightclub. So Marcus sipped his orange juice slowly, secretly counting the minutes until Jack got his woman and he could leave.

Marcus worked for a bank, owned a Zone 2 London flat, and carried himself with the air of a man destined for something greater. Jack, meanwhile, lived in his parents’ basement, was a certified plumber, and had the kind of gaming setup only someone without a mortgage could afford. He earned good money, but a banker always sounded better than a plumber. So Jack usually pretended to be a banker, borrowing Marcus's profile in the nightclub.

That Saturday night, the bass thudded like a migraine. Jack surveyed the dance floor, teeth flashing, while Marcus felt bored.

Then she arrived. A vision in a skimpy silver dress. Legs flashing, hips swaying like she owned the place. She walked with the confidence of a woman who knew every male eye was on her and that she could pick and choose.

“Target acquired,” Jack muttered, nudging Marcus. “This woman is a total robobabe, and she's got you in her sights. Do us both a favor and don’t open with questions about her pension plan.”

The woman stopped at the bar beside Marcus, leaned just so, arching her back with the same lack of subtlety you'd find on the front page of one of Jack's Hot Bike Magazines. Marcus’s eyes involuntarily admired the curve of her bare back and the glimpse of breast at the side of her dress. He felt butterflies in his stomach. She turned her head in slow motion, purring. “Hi I'm Callie. What’s good here?” her blue eyes drilling into Marcus.

Marcus froze. He didn’t understand what she had done differently from all the other women he'd met here, but she was under his skin. Her eyes shined as she recognized the look he gave her, and he went red, embarrassed he was so transparent. His brain had the processing power of a toaster at that moment. “Ah… wow… you really asking me?”

She nodded giving him a warm smile.

Marcus beamed. "Hi," he said and that was all he could manage. She was through his defenses. Callie had a way about her. Her chatter was hypnotic, not for what she said but for how she seemed to read his emotions before he could even articulate them. She led him sweetly and gently into her heart and decorated his impressions of it in the best colors and light as they traveled together there.

"Normally I wouldn’t come on so strong," she commented later, "but I felt we had some kind of vibe, like we were meant to be. Does that sound silly to you?" Callie flicked her hair as she spoke and Marcus admired her smooth, slim neck.

"No, no, I know exactly what you mean," replied Marcus, thinking that he did and that there was some kind of destiny to this meeting.

That night he took her home and Callie and he slept together. This was all new to him and he hardly noticed as she took over his life, enforcing a suits-only dress code, replacing the meat in his freezer with vegetarian options. She bought lamps on his credit card, planting them everywhere. Furniture started arriving and leaving by appointment. Marcus was high on emotions he never knew existed before her, and he thought he was in love. He stopped going to church. Callie wasn’t interested and he didn’t want to face his female friends there. He knew what they would say, what they thought.

By the second month, there was a ring. Marcus didn’t remember buying it, but his credit card said differently. One day, they were out to dinner, the next she was slipping it on with a triumphant smile, while Marcus sat there in stunned silence, acquiescing to the inevitable march of history.

Jack clearly didn’t like Callie. “She’s not in love, mate,” he said one night, swirling his pint like a prophet in a pub. “She’s annexed you. Look at her, this isn’t affection, it’s empire-building. You’re not her fiancé, you’re her free ticket. She's a hairdresser for crying out loud. In the real world, she is not your equal, and in time that will be a problem for you.”

Marcus blinked happily. “You don’t know her like I do; she just never had the same chances I had.”

“No, I do,” Jack shot back. “I know the type. Arrogant about the way she looks and the power she has over men? But inside, a mess nobody’s allowed to touch. She's too wounded for true love, Marcus. She’s a gold-digger looking for a sponsor.”

Marcus noticed that Callie marked Jack as the enemy. Jack teased her mercilessly and was apparently invulnerable to her magic. Marcus could see how hurt she was at Jack's comments and felt protective. He started to question his friendship with Jack. Jack just didn’t get the commitment thing. Marcus was ready to marry Callie.

Callie's comments wore him down. "That friend of yours is toxic... always eying me up and down... I think he wants me for himself... he's so rude... Jack made me cry this morning..."

The final straw came when Callie confronted Jack in front of Marcus. “I hate you, creep. You’re pathetic, and Marcus doesn’t need you poisoning his happiness. You're just jealous he has a woman you stand no chance with. Stay out of our lives.”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “Or what? You’ll drown me in hairspray fumes?” He laughed down at her. “I don’t want you, Callie. I’ve had dozens of you, different names, same performance. Marcus deserves better than you and I will ever know; we are unclean. We are both whores! I can live with that, but it seems you can't. Your act doesn’t fool me. You’re terrified he’ll see what’s behind the gloss: shallow, broken, arrogant.”

Marcus was confused. Is that what Jack really thought about Callie? How could he think these things?... Callie a whore!?

Callie's face flickered with rage, shame, and for a moment she mumbled incoherently as if in shock. "You're the kind that strips a woman bare and then leaves her crying the next day. You're the whore here, not me!!!"

Jack smiled. "That's it! Isn't it? I remind you of a guy who dumped you after you slept with him on the first date. You thought you were in charge, but you were fooled by a routine practiced on a hundred women before you. It felt real, but then he broke your heart. Now you’re not just a predator playing the field, you’re also a gold-digger and a control freak."

Marcus saw Callie's jaw drop a moment and saw how hurt she looked. That made him feel protective. He ignored the rest of what Jack said; it was too much. He put his arm around Callie and she collapsed into tears, sobbing into his chest.

She whispered, “He wants to ruin everything. He's jealous of what we have together.”

And Marcus, torn between a lifetime of loyalty and a woman he thought was his future, made his choice. “Jack… maybe you should go.”

So Jack walked away into the drizzle, shaking his head in the glow of a flickering streetlight. Callie pressed herself against Marcus, trembling in his arms.

Marcus regretted that decision later, as Jack had been the only one keeping him sane under the pressure from his new fiancée. The cracks began to show. Marcus realized dinners were now less about romance and more about impressing Callie’s friends. Affection became a loyalty points system: reward for good behavior, punishment for not doing what he was told. He felt more and more controlled.

The great unraveling came soon after, over the wedding guest list. Marcus, weary, asked the fatal question: “Why does everything have to be your way?”

Callie blinked like he’d just asked her to wear trainers to a ball. “Because I know best when it comes to these kinds of decisions.”

“Our relationship shouldn’t be about you always getting what you want,” Marcus said. “I just want to be trusted.”

Callie laughed a little too loudly, her face ugly with a bitterness Marcus had not seen before. “Trusted? Darling, no man can be trusted, which is why you have to be kept on a tight leash.”

Marcus stared. This was her heart for him, on display like there was nothing he could do about it. It was arrogance on her part that she thought she could be so blatant about this desire to dominate. Beneath her pride he saw something raw, like a beast that guarded a bleeding heart she’d never let anyone touch. She was never truly going to let him in, never going to give herself unconditionally to his love for her. He felt suffocated as he realized the extent to which she'd been controlling him, using sex to blind him to the actual lack of intimacy in their relationship.

He sighed. “Callie… this isn’t love. This is...” he gestured vaguely around her dramatic presence “...prison... he glanced at the ceiling and all the lamps Callie had bought. With too much lighting.”

Callie yelled at him, “You know what you are? Weak. Too weak for me. I deserve better.”

Marcus shook his head, "I will pray for you."

She looked a brief moment, like her soul was torn between anger and tears, and then she flung her coat over her shoulder like she was storming off a movie set, and slammed the door hard.

Silence. Marcus sat alone. She’d left her glittering engagement ring on the counter when moisturizing her hands. He wondered if, at least, he could get that money back. The faint smell of expensive perfume seemed sickly now, and he opened a window. Relief surged inside him as he breathed in the fresh air. He thought about calling Jack but decided not to; it was time for a change. His heart moved rapidly now it was freed from its chains. He contemplated church on Sunday. He remembered the face of one of the church girls he liked, yes Martha, she has a nice smile, was fun to be around and she's always so wise and giving.

Callie had changed him, she'd opened his eyes to women in a way he could never undo. She'd taught him how to love even as she'd carved a hollow space in his heart for her throne. He remembered her smell and the smoothness of her skin and felt a pang of regret. She'd just taken a piece of his soul through that doorway, something he could never get back. Was his love just desire and never truly real because of that? Now her beauty's spell was broken he felt sorry for her and offered up a silent prayer.

She'd never really let him in, never been vulnerable with him about her past hurts, so maybe he had never truly loved her as she was. But now he understood for the first time that Callie was looking for proof. Proof that she was enough. And no man alive could ever give that to her.

W/C & Notes ▼

W/C: 1979
CONTEST:

SURVEY

What a Character! : Official WDC Contest  (E) Create a memorable character using the given prompt for huge prizes! #1679316 by Writing.Com Support

PROMPT: Write a story about a character who falls victim to one of the seven deadly sins
(i.e., envy, gluttony, greed, lust, pride, sloth, or wrath)
Notes: I chose pride with a toxic dose of vanity thrown in. Though I guess this also an exploration of how male lust can make a man a pawn of female pride. We always get the toxic male stories in the media today, so one with a toxic female character seemed overdue.