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"  &amp;quot;So what do you think?&amp;quot; I leaned in close to the mirror and examined my face. The make-up artist admired her work behind me. &amp;quot;Can I hire you for life in general?&amp;quot; I asked, turning my face from the left and to the right. She&amp;#039;d actually managed to give me cheekbones, which with my round face is no small feat.  I was taping my intro clip for Social Media (the &amp;quot;working name&amp;quot; of the show) that afternoon (William and Megan sanctioned half day at work, woo-hoo!). All I had to do was suck in my stomach, look into the camera, and state my name (Josie), age (25), what I did for a living (editorial assistant at a publishing house-slash-author of the new romantic book, Struck by Desire), where I lived in New York, (Upper East Side\u2014but not the Gossip Girl Upper East Side), and how I knew Kevin (my boss was editing a book by his boss). For this 15 second clip, I needed two and a half hours of hair, make-up, and wardrobe. The make-up artist assured me that even the goddess that is Blake Lively would need the same, but I think she was just trying to make me feel better.  Kevin had already taped his intro, and was meeting me back at my apartment after I was done so that we could talk. I could tell he was sweating bullets over what I&amp;#039;d witnessed in the bathroom at Brad&amp;#039;s apartment, and I couldn&amp;#039;t wait to assuage all of his fears and let him know that at this point in my life, I was down to play his beard.  After 20 million takes, I was relieved when they told me I could go home.  &amp;quot;Good energy today,&amp;quot; Martin, the producer, said to me. I wondered if that was true or if he said that to everyone. Probably the latter.  I fired off a quick email to William, letting him know that the afternoon had gone well, then hopped in the town car the studio had hired to take me home. A girl could get used to this.  Kevin was already pacing on the curb by the time we parked on my block, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. I thanked the driver and climbed out.  &amp;quot;Wow,&amp;quot; he said when he saw me. I was back in my street clothes (the wardrobe stylist had to pry the Helmut Lang dress and Brian Atwood heels from my cold, dead hands) but my hair was perfectly wavy and my wingtip liquid liner was tight.  &amp;quot;If you can appreciate it I must look really good.&amp;quot; I grinned. Kevin looked like he was going to cry. &amp;quot;Ohmigod!&amp;quot; I put my hand on his arm. &amp;quot;I&amp;#039;m sorry, I was just trying to lighten the mood.&amp;quot;  Kevin covered his face with his hand and shook his head. &amp;quot;Things are just so screwed up.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Okay, it&amp;#039;s okay,&amp;quot; I said in the comforting mom voice I use when one of my friends has beer tears. I guided Kevin with one arm and used my other to dig into my purse to find the key to my building. &amp;quot;Let&amp;#039;s just go upstairs and talk.&amp;quot;  We climbed the stairs to my apartment. In the heat of the hallway, with Kevin just a few steps behind me, I could smell that he had been drinking. Once we were inside I turned the AC on and got us both a glass of water.  &amp;quot;Do you have any scotch?&amp;quot; Kevin asked, forlornly.  &amp;quot;I&amp;#039;m a girl. I drink wine and vodka.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Can you pour me some vodka then?&amp;quot; Even though straight vodka was a little hardcore, he looked so sad I would have done anything to make him feel better.  &amp;quot;Sure.&amp;quot; I went into my kitchen and poured a thimble of vodka into a glass, added a lot of ice, and looking over my shoulder to make sure he wasn&amp;#039;t watching me, a little bit of water too.  &amp;quot;I hope you&amp;#039;re not this upset just because I walked in on you,&amp;quot; I said, handing him the glass. &amp;quot;I really don&amp;#039;t mind that you&amp;#039;re with Adam. If anything I&amp;#039;m sorry you felt like you had to hide it.&amp;quot;  The ice clinked in Kevin&amp;#039;s glass as he took a sip. &amp;quot;That was my agent&amp;#039;s idea.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;To hide it?&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Yeah.&amp;quot; He nodded. &amp;quot;Adam&amp;#039;s guy said the same thing. We&amp;#039;d be more &amp;#039;commercially viable&amp;#039; if we played straight.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;How long have you guys been together?&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;A year and a half.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Wow,&amp;quot; I said. &amp;quot;That&amp;#039;s a long time to pretend like you&amp;#039;re not with someone you&amp;#039;re actually with.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;I know,&amp;quot; Kevin agreed. &amp;quot;And Adam&amp;#039;s over it. As he put it, we&amp;#039;re both 28 and we&amp;#039;ve had minimal success. He wants to quit the industry and get a real job so he doesn&amp;#039;t have to pretend anymore.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Is that what you want?&amp;quot;  Kevin&amp;#039;s eyes welled up with tears again. &amp;quot;No. I&amp;#039;m not ready to stop trying.&amp;quot; He wiped his eyes and took a shaky breath. &amp;quot;So he left me.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Oh, Kevin.&amp;quot; I half-stood so I could reach across the coffee table and squeeze his knee. &amp;quot;I&amp;#039;m sorry. Is there anything I can do?&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;I&amp;#039;m sorry,&amp;quot; he said. &amp;quot;To lay this on you. I just don&amp;#039;t have anyone in my life who knows.&amp;quot; Before I could respond, there was knocking at my door. Shit. I thought I&amp;#039;d heard my phone vibrating in my purse a few minutes earlier. Before I opened the door I quick-checked it. Yup, two texts from Justin, saying he was coming over.  I opened the door just a crack. &amp;quot;Hey,&amp;quot; I said.  Justin raised his eyebrows at me. &amp;quot;Wanna play?&amp;quot;  I would have wanted to play if my other quasi boyfriend wasn&amp;#039;t sitting in my living room having a total meltdown. &amp;quot;Can you come back later?&amp;quot; I asked in a low voice.  Justin peered over my head. &amp;quot;Who&amp;#039;s in there?&amp;quot; he asked.  &amp;quot;My friend,&amp;quot; I said.  &amp;quot;The guy?&amp;quot; Justin pushed.  &amp;quot;Yes, the guy,&amp;quot; I said, impatiently. &amp;quot;So can you please come back later?&amp;quot;  Instead of leaving, Justin asked, &amp;quot;Why do you have so much make-up on?&amp;quot;  Ugh, Justin! Before I could tell him to leave again, I heard Kevin behind me. &amp;quot;Josie, I don&amp;#039;t want to get in your way. I&amp;#039;m going to leave.&amp;quot;  I put my hand on his arm. &amp;quot;No, don&amp;#039;t.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;It&amp;#039;s fine.&amp;quot; He leaned down and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I couldn&amp;#039;t help but be happy Justin saw that. I swung the door wider so that Kevin could leave.  &amp;quot;Hey,&amp;quot; Kevin said to Justin.  &amp;quot;Hey, guy,&amp;quot; Justin said so coldly I wanted to slap him.  Kevin squeezed out of the doorway and jogged down the steps. Justin flicked him off behind his back.  &amp;quot;You&amp;#039;re such an asshole,&amp;quot; I said to Justin.  &amp;quot;You love it.&amp;quot; Justin strolled into the living room and plopped on the couch. &amp;quot;That guy looked like such a putz. Did he have a chain around his neck?&amp;#039;  Yeah, Kevin dressed a little cheesy, especially compared to Justin, but Justin sounded like such a snob I was sorry I&amp;#039;d let him in. &amp;quot;What are you doing here?&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;You know what I&amp;#039;m doing here.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;No.&amp;quot; I folded my arms across my chest. &amp;quot;I don&amp;#039;t.&amp;quot;  Justin stood and walked over to me. I backed away from him until I felt the wall behind me. &amp;quot;I think you should go.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Oh come on,&amp;quot; Justin groaned. &amp;quot;I&amp;#039;m sorry I insulted your boyfriend.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;He&amp;#039;s not my boyfriend,&amp;quot; I said, quietly.  &amp;quot;The guy you&amp;#039;re seeing, whatever.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;I&amp;#039;m not even seeing him. He&amp;#039;s gay.&amp;quot;  Justin laughed. &amp;quot;How many more guys are going to get you with that line?&amp;quot; I opened my mouth to explain that Richard never told me he was gay, it was just an assumption I&amp;#039;d made. But he hooked his finger in the belt loop of my shorts, pulling me towards him, lowering his head so it was just inches from mine. His body felt warm in the icy room, and as much as I willed myself not to want him, I couldn&amp;#039;t help it.  &amp;quot;I&amp;#039;m not seeing him. I&amp;#039;m not seeing anyone.&amp;quot; I looked up at him. &amp;quot;Still want me now?&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Yes,&amp;quot; Justin dipped his head and kissed me. I felt tingly all over, and out of breath with desire for him, but in that moment I just couldn&amp;#039;t let this go any further and feel okay with myself. The way he had treated Kevin just reminded me of some of the shitty things he had said to me when we were together. I put my hand on his chest and pushed him away.  &amp;quot;I really want you to go.&amp;quot; I said.  I felt Justin&amp;#039;s hand between my legs, slipping into my shorts and pushing my underwear aside. He curled his fingers, stroking me softly. &amp;quot;No, you don&amp;#039;t.&amp;quot;  I sucked in a deep breath, leaning my head against his chest for a few moments. Then I dug really deep, and pushed him away hard. &amp;quot;Please. Leave.&amp;quot;  Justin held up his hands, like I was a cop pointing a gun at him. &amp;quot;Alright, alright.&amp;quot; Before slamming the door\u2014hard\u2014behind him, he said, &amp;quot;You need to decide what you fucking want.&amp;quot; Well, that was just hysterical, coming from him.  I locked the door behind him, listening to his footsteps recede on the stairs. I had decided what I wanted. And it wasn&amp;#039;t this. Want more from Josie? Follow her on Twitter @BedroomBlog "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
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